This summer (my third at the library, and the third summer with the hybrid summer reading program that I implemented), I noticed a definitive switch in thinking among the kids who participated in the reading program.  Though I bought a large selection of high-quality, fun toys as prizes, more and more kids were focused on earning a bookplate and not on earning prizes.  Many parents told me that their kids really wanted to earn a bookplate, and had set goals for themselves.  Some kids just wanted to reach that thirty hour benchmark, while others wanted to exceed their hourly reading total from the previous summer.  And a few others wanted to have the highest hourly total of all this summer’s bookplates.

Another trend this summer that I found fascinating was that many kids didn’t bother to come in to collect any prizes until the last two weeks of the summer reading program.  These kids truly didn’t care about the toys that they could earn, but were concentrating their reading efforts on getting The Bookplate.   At the six week mark for summer reading, there were only about 3,500 hours logged on to our system; many of the kids who participated had not yet come in to have us enter their hours into the computer.  Now, after the conclusion of all eight and a half weeks of the reading program, there are 6,905 hours logged in – a clear demonstration of how the focus in town has shifted from what you can “get” to taking pride in your reading achievements. 

Most importantly, when kids have come in to select the book in which their bookplate will go, 98% of those kids have chosen a book that they have already read and love: a book that holds meaning for them.  Yesterday I gave up on the book cart full of new books for kids to choose from, putting all of those new books out on the shelves, because only a handful of kids had wanted to consider a new book for their bookplate, let alone choose a new book. 

What does this all mean?  It means that the kids who participate in the summer reading program are now more excited about the act of reading and about the books they read than they are about what toys they can bring home with them.  They are thinking long and hard about the legacy that they are leaving in the library when they choose the book that will hold their bookplate; when someone else checks out “their” book, they know that the unwritten subtext of their bookplate says something like, “I am John, and I loved this book.  I recommend it to you.”  And they are also leaving markers for themselves in the library.  Many kids went to the stacks to look at their bookplate from last year, and smiled at the book that they had chosen a year ago.  As the years pass, they’ll be leaving a trail of books that show their growth as readers from one year to the next.

I remain deeply indebted the Massachusetts children’s librarian who so generously gave me this bookplate idea.  Thank you, thank you, thank you – it’s the best part of our summer reading program.

[And, for the record, this year I decided that I should put a bookplate of my own into a book, since for three summers now I have also read the prerequisite thirty hours.  I chose The Emerald City of Oz, and put into it a bookplate in honor of my mom, since she always bought Oz books for me from the teahouse in Wenham.]

Last week Marianne from Audubon Ark came to the library and ran a program on Habitats, with featured guests Painted Turtle and Skunk.  As expected, the program was terrific.  (For those of you who are children’s librarians in Massachusetts, if you haven’t had an Audubon Ark program at your library, you should: they are of the highest quality AND they are affordable.)

Marianne is a great teacher naturalist, and I was really impressed by her ability to both present information and listen to the kids.  She took her time, and allowed each child who wanted to speak to do so at his or her own speed.  When a child was finished commenting or asking a question, Marianne was able to be spontaneous and adapt her presentation to accomodate the specific interests of the kids in attendance. 

As with last summer’s Birds of Prey program, I was also very impressed by the matter-of-fact nature of these Audubon Ark programs.  The teacher naturalists cover all aspects of the animals that they have brought with them, from birth to death to reproduction.  Skulls of dead animals (in this case, a skunk) are shown to the kids, skins and shells are passed around for the kids to examine (at this program, two painted turtle shells and a skunk pelt were shared), and questions about reproduction are handled without drama (Marianne explained that you can tell a female painted turtle from a male by the shape of the turtle’s belly: a female’s belly is flat, a male’s is concave so that the male can mate with the female).  This last point is particularly of interest to me, since Marianne addressed that delicate subject of mating without raising a single parental eyebrow.  She didn’t ignore the issue, yet she also didn’t dwell upon it.  Mating exists, she mentioned it, done, move on.  Death exists, too, as evidenced by the skulls and pelts, but is handled in such a way that kids aren’t grossed out (or freaked out) by it. 

Obviously, Marianne was fabulous, and I hope that she is able to run our August program on Backyard Wildlife.  But the real star of last week was the skunk.  Mr. Skunk was one cool dude, as he wandered around his plexi-glass corral and snuffled through the leaves in search of his cat kibbles.  The kids got to sit in a ring around the corral, right up next to the skunk, but the skunk could have cared less about the circle of small faces surrounding him.  He’s obviously used to life in the public eye, and his primary objective was to find his afternoon snack. 

My thanks to Marianne, the turtle, and the skunk for a great afternoon.  I can’t wait until August’s program and the visit from the opossum!!

So, it’s my third summer as a children’s librarian, and my second summer running a summer reading program from the new library building.  And I’ll probably jinx myself by putting this in type…but so far this summer has been very pleasant.  Very pleasant.  It’s a combination of me feeling at ease with the massive amount of work involved in running a summer reading program, and the patrons’ ease with me and with the changes that I made to the summer reading system.

Now that I’m not thoroughly weighed down by the summer tasks, I’m able to really enjoy the different pace of summer in a library.  I love getting to talk to each child who comes in to “cash” in their reading hours, and I love that entering the childrens’ hours in the computer allows me to get a handle on each child’s name.  I love the stories that parents tell me about what a difference the summer incentives have made in the reading habits of their child.  I love the fantastic performers who are coming to the library, and that the generous support of the Friends of the library allows us to provide great programming for free.  I love the squeals of delight when I call kids to let them know that they’re a raffle winner.   And I really love that the collection in the children’s room is brimming with new wonderful books that are inspiring kids to read.  It’s really incredibly awesome to be at the center of all this activity, and to be mellow enough to enjoy it. 

I wonder what the fourth summer will be like?

“Habitats: Animals and their Environments,” presented by Audubon Ark from Drumlin Farm.  Two sessions, one at 2:30 and one at 3:15, and there’s still a bit of room left in each.  The naturalist teacher will be bringing a skunk and a painted turtle, and if last year’s Birds of Prey program is an indication, this should be a terrific educational event.

I look forward to summers because I actually have time to write blog entries and to read (no tutoring in the summer means evenings are free to have some fun).  But first I have to get over that big hump at the beginning of the summer, the Ice Cream Social, AND take a couple of days to recover from it. 

So the Ice Cream Social was last week, and thanks to an army of volunteers who helped out on the day of the event, we managed to pull it off.  Even with a record number of attendees.  Wow.  But let me tell you, it’s a Herculean effort to plan, organize, and run the Ice Cream Social.  I’m not complaining – it’s only once a year, and it’s a total buzz to run it – I’m just saying that it takes a lot to get this event off the ground.  Judy, bless her soul, volunteered to go to BJ’s to buy the toppings and paper goods: check that box on the list.  Jennifer made a million little bubble wands out of pipe cleaners: check that box off.  Lots of teens and moms volunteered to help out with the activities and ice cream scooping (twelve of them in total): check.  Baskin Robbins agreed to sell us the ice cream at their cost:  big, big check (it was still $120 for that ice cream!).  Renee reminded me of one essential ingredient to changing to our Wednesday rain date – notifying Constance to alter the website before Constance left on vacation: whew, another big checkmark.  You get the idea.

I changed the format of the Ice Cream Social this year, skipping a performer and substituting multiple activities for that performer.  It IS a “social,” after all.  So there was a paper airplane making station, run by Ben and Sarah, a face painting station with Alyson and Liz (and me), the ice cream scooping station with the intrepid team of Amy, Deb, Andrea, Jenny, and Vicki, and the bubble blowing/sidewalk chalk drawing station with Jennifer, Erica, and Lizzie.  (Not to forget Marie, who helped with cleanup.) 

Once kids got their ice cream sundaes, they could run around the large expanse of the library lawn and have fun at the activity station of their choice.  I wasn’t sure how well this would work, but it was fantastic.  Instead of ending at 4 PM, things were still going strong at 4:45.  I actually had to wrest the last bucket of bubble blowing solution from an eager crowd of five or six kids, and Alyson and Liz only finished face painting at 5, when the library closes.

I learned a few key things from this particular Ice Cream Social:

1. No longer can I depend on my prior formula for allowing for fifty extra attendees above those who preregistered.  This year we had TWO HUNDRED extra attendees, and actually ran out of bowls.  And the whipped cream ran out within ten minutes.
2. I suck at face painting.  I figured I’d do well with it, because I’m pretty artistic, but truth is I’m terrible at it.  You want WHAT on your face?  A unicorn????  A soccer ball flying through the air into a goal????  A flaming baseball????  Any chance I can sell you on a flower or a butterfly?
3. Next year we need way more volunteers.  Why didn’t I think to ask the Friends for help on that front?  Duh.
4. Cheap fun is the best fun.  The feedback after this “bargain” Ice Cream Social was the best I’ve ever gotten.  So the change of format from performer to activities was incredibly smart, thank you very much. 
5. When you host a party for over 400 people, you’re bound to be ridiculously tired afterwards.

I still have bruises all over my hips from hauling chairs and tables, but I’m not tired anymore.  And it’s going to be a full year before I’m that exhausted again.  Until then, I can just enjoy the memories of an event that was a success despite a few small glitches.