Connecting

On one of my many walks with a friend last year, I was taken aback when he stopped, took a deep breath, and said, “Bob, don’t take this the wrong way” – which usually means that’s exactly the way I’m going to take it – “but… you are on a mission.”

“You mean I’m whining?”

“No.”

“Boring”?

“Never.”

“Pissed off?”

“Sure. But I still like you.”

“I’m relieved.”

We continued to walk the mile circumference around our compound in beautiful Riyadh–dust in the air, blaring prayer calls from dueling minarets. Everything seemed the same, but in the next hours, days, weeks, and even now, things are not the same. Like the heavy watering of the lawns and shrubbery in our little oasis, my friend had splashed a cold dose of reality on me.

At least in the compound, guarded by six machine gun emplacements and a barb wired perimeter, I felt safely tucked in from danger. When my friend shared his observation of me being on a mission, I felt a different kind of danger–undefined and maybe something I didn’t want to face.

My friend is a sweet guy. He likes me. Sometimes he reminds me of Fred Rogers. Kids love him. He’s not too bad with adults. As a kindly, somewhat curmudgeonly, grey haired confidant, I had always found him an astute observer of human beings. After miles and miles of walks together, sharing all of life’s dings, he would not say something that was not well thought out or unkind.

“You are on a mission.”

“Awwww right already, what mission?”

He had noted on too many occasions, that I was upset about many aspects of my job, not to mention my profession. He stopped to further think things through, seeing that I was more than a bit baffled.

“You want everyone to see things your way.”

“No I don’t. Do I?”

“You do.”

“Okay, maybe sometimes.” He paused.

Both of us have moved from school to school to school on the international circuit for many years – he at nine schools, me at seven. No one better I figured to see how continuing job frustrations would compel a person to globe trot when the challenges became too daunting.

“But, is that a bad thing?” I asked. He explained. In his explanation he reminded me of the guy, me, who had reinvented, revitalized, or designed from the start, every library program he had touched – and then moved on. And to think, I thought he was half asleep during many of our walks.

“You are now an old dog.”

“And you are an old fart?”

“I’ll accept that,” he said, with a twinkle. “But at least I’m not on a mission.”

“Should I retire? Should I not be on a mission?”

“No, and no, yes, and maybe. But you should think about it.” We talked for hours. I went to

bed thinking about being on a mission. I told my wife about being on a mission.

Without hesitation, without a moment of contemplation, she said, “Honey, you are on a mission.”

“Not you too. What does that mean? What am I supposed to do?  And don’t tell me to write

a blog.”

“Why not?”

“No, no, never, never. What would I say?”

“And that’s been a problem since…?”

“But I don’t have the discipline to do it every day. I need to keep writing books. And I still

love my job – the kids, the literature, the research. And don’t you dare tell me I’m an old dog.” She went into the bathroom and brought back a mirror.

 

“And don’t you dare remind me about the hairs growing out the top of my nose or inside my ears.”

She smiled. “No dear, at least you can trim those. But the things you have bottled up are not

so easy. You have less and less patience and years of strong feelings about a job you love.”

At last, things were beginning to make sense — old dog, experience, retirement… and now, every book I help a kid find, always seems to be on the bottom shelf.

“Can I get pissed off?”

“Get pissed off all you want. It’s your space. But remember, you want people to read it.”

Maybe people will read it. Maybe they won’t. But it costs a lot less than therapy, and maybe along the way, my voice will ring out with something of value in behalf of kids, especially boys. So here “my best beloved,” as Rudyard Kipling once said…

 

The Top 7 Reasons Why I Can and Should Write This Blog about Inspiring Kids to Read and Love the Library

I would have gone for 10, but like George Carlin observed in his shtick about Ten Commandments, that number was more of a marketing thing, and I don’t want this ever to seem like a canned, preplanned diatribe. So for now, unless I can think of more…

1. Seventeen years as a school librarian at seven schools on four continents2. Male librarian in a unique position to get guys hooked3. Unique library perspective — many awards including Library Media Specialist of the Year in the State of Oregon, 1996; numerous grants and articles related to library programs, travel and adventure; presenter at many reading, storytelling, and library conferences and workshops.4. Folders filled with letters from parents telling me I was the reason their kids picked up the reading passion5. Writer of action packed novels for intermediate and YA kids6. True believer that the sacrosanct mission of the school librarian is to inspire lifelong reading habits, love of books, and the library7. Former truck driver, puppeteer, freelance feature writer, and business owner — current traveler, elementary school librarian, blog writer, storyteller, and social media convert