Volume 24 Issue 2 Introduction

Lots of Ways to Be a Leader Or: I Am a Library Leader, and So Can You! People tend to have a fixed mindset about who “librarians” are and how library staff should act, represent their profession, and lead. When I say “people,” I am envisioning every public official, captain of industry and Lyft driver who has ever asked me how many people I shush in a day, and then I am envisioning a rain of cartoon anvils. To be fair, I’m also thinking of a younger version of myself, picking out the dowdiest clothes in my wardrobe for my first day as a circulation clerk at my college library. Thirteen years and many burritos later, I’m still a loudmouth slob who routinely cracks wise and writes policies galore but enforces the only rule that makes sense to me: don’t be a dick (Wheaton, 2007). I’m also the Assistant Director of Library Services at Crook County Library, and someone who wears the title “librarian” with pride. I got here through the guiding example of peers and bosses who showed me that “librarian” is not synonymous with “lame-o” and that in fact the best library leaders—the ones who do the most to effect positive change in their institutions and their communities—are the ones who embrace their strengths and dreams without compromise. This was the central thesis around which the inaugural Leadership Institute of the Oregon Library Association (LIOLA) was built, but it wasn’t entirely news to me

Guns and America and the Library and Us: What We Learned from the Worst Library Program … Ever!

On a dark and stormy night in Prineville, fifty members of the community gathered in Crook County Library’s meeting room. The program facilitator walked in the door five minutes before go-time. The Assistant Director introduced him to the room. And then all hell broke loose. The program topic? Guns and America. Guns and America was offered as part of the Conversation Project series of community discussion programs given by Oregon Humanities. Conversation Project programs are intended to be open-ended discussions run by a trained facilitator who is an expert in the topic at hand. The facilitator creates a neutral space, but political conversations that occur within the boundaries of civil, productive conversation often arise and are not discouraged. In general, these programs are extremely well-run and well-received. Both of our current libraries have done and continue to do Conversation Projects. We would recommend these programs for any library. While programs centering on contentious topics can be intimidating, they fill a necessary role in public library services. In order for such programs to be successful, however, library staff members have to do some additional legwork when selecting a topic and preparing to host a program

Don’t Deputize Intolerance: Keeping Your Security Policies Safe from Your Patrons

To live in rural Oregon is to live in tension. Crook County exemplifies the tensions of living in rural Oregon in many ways, and not just because it is located dead center in the middle of the state. It also encapsulates the contradiction of some residents trying to keep a hold on a past they perceive as idyllic, while others live with the opportunities and harsh realities of the present. Crook County sees this contradiction reflected in its reliance on industries both historic and modern: ranching, wood products, and auto tires on the one hand, and data centers, health care, and hemp on the other. This tension can boil over into conflict, even when it comes to something as supposedly simple as a change in library policy. Like in many other communities suffering identity crises, some people in Crook County, and its only incorporated town of Prineville, ran afoul of the rising use of opioids (Chaney, 2019). Those of us at the public library saw the effects firsthand. In 2018 and 2019, the library faced a confluence of opioid-adjacent situations. These incidents presented a serious security dilemma for the library where we worked as director and assistant director: How do we ensure safety for the most vulnerable patrons, including those experiencing adverse effects from drugs, while generally keeping the library welcoming for everyone? This dilemma led us to two security-related decisions: to forbid sleeping in the library and to install security cameras. Both decisions ultimately demonstrated how choices made, ostensibly, to protect patrons' physical safety, or to help some people feel more "secure," can adversely impact safety for patrons who are already marginalized