On March 27, the Boulder Community Library closed its doors — but only because the Jefferson County Commissioners told it to.
Until then, head librarian Jodi Smiley had resisted the idea. She had canceled public events starting March 14; then limited to 10 the number of patrons at one time; and finally resorted to curbside service. But shutting down altogether, that didn’t come easily.
Now, Smiley and her staff work a few days a week; they trade off shifts, since no more than two people can be together in the building. They clean, answer phones, and help an occasional patron with a computer set up in the lobby.
The library, normally a hub of small-town civic life, has become, ironically or not, an extremely quiet place.
Smiley spoke with The Monitor on April 6. The interview has been edited for length and clarity.
The library is basically closed now. Do you still go in to work?
I do go in most days. Things are very strange without our patrons! But the staff and I are working on getting sanitized for when we open again. And we’re answering the phones.
People are still calling? Why?
I think they’re going a little stir crazy; they want to talk all day. Sometimes older patrons call because they’re lonely. You can tell in their voice, they’re not calling for any real purpose. I have one older gentleman who doesn’t even live in Boulder anymore, but he wants to stay on the line forever. He just needs someone to talk to. Especially older people, who tend to isolate themselves anyway, it’s hard on them when they lose those social connections.
Everyone is feeling a little disconnected these days.
Parents are having a hard time. They’re becoming teachers, and they don’t know how to do that. They all are going to be giving their teachers big hugs when this is over. They tell us: “We’re running out of things to do with them!” I feel a little bad for them, because they’re trying to do their jobs at home and then they’re trying to teach their kids, too.
You come up with activities for them?
I’ve got a lot of wonderful librarian pals. We connect online, and we come up with activities to keep kids busy. If there’s a young adult who’s having trouble with algebra, we can send him to an online tutor, so the child can learn and the mom or dad doesn’t have to feel like they’re a bad parent. There are things like putting drawings of Easter eggs in your window, and we’ll do an egg hunt. We have scavenger hunts with a bit of learning involved, and it allows kids to be outside. We’ll hew more to those sorts of things as the weather gets better. That will help with the stress.
The library is famous for its tai chi and ukulele classes. Are those now online?
We’re not doing tai chi classes; it’s really hard to video. We’re looking at online ukulele classes, but you get this delay which makes it kind of weird. We may have Gary Craft come in and record lessons, but that takes away from the interaction.
But we are doing story hour on Facebook. We’re doing the same program as we would in person: We read a book, we sing a song, we chat. The husband of one of our new hires loves role playing, so he is now playing “Hemmingway” (a mouse).
You worked hard so people could use a library computer for unemployment claims and other emergency uses.
It was a huge blessing: The [county] commissioners started allowing us to let people in one at a time, a few days of the week. We have a makeshift office set up in the lobby. We have had five patrons come in for unemployment, two to try to sign up for small business loan disaster relief, and three to print paperwork for school. I know things will probably get worse before they get better so those numbers are bound to go up. It does my heart good to be able to offer some help to those in my community who need it. People are scared; they need to be able to access resources.
One person who was laid off, he came by the library right before the governor ordered to shelter in place. He said, I will help you make deliveries if that’s what you need — whatever way I can help the library. I thought: that’s small-town living.
You must be lonely there. Do you miss your patrons?
I miss them horribly! Being in that library when it’s quiet is terrible. You make those connections with people. We haven’t heard from some of our patrons, so we’re calling them, just to make sure they’re okay. Some of them, we don’t know if they have family, we don’t know all their story.
This moment says something powerful about the role of small-town libraries.
I absolutely feel that. Libraries have grown into something different. That’s what libraries do: they evolve. Now, they’re becoming more of a social spot. The library is the one place to go where many people can feel safe and be with other people. They can sit quietly and do a puzzle, but still be with others. When I started here, I began serving cookies on Tuesdays. I still do, and people still want their cookies on Tuesdays.
Now everyone is missing cookies on Tuesdays.
Yes. But this will be over one day, and the library will be ready.
