In our first semester of library school, Dr. Hersberger assured us in her calm, matter-of-fact way, that there was a niche for each of us in the library world, giving us tips on how we might find this niche if it wasn't apparent.
Even though she spoke to the whole class, the others dropped away when she said this, and I heard her speak to me alone.
She upset my entire plan, and allowed me to dare to seek my ideal library niche.
As much as I love children and literature for children, I love being free to roam the library field, imagining where I fit the best.
Most of my classes have had projects involving topics of our choice, and I have chosen science and biology topics rather than the type of children's lit or humanities topics I usually choose.
This has given me confidence that I can research, understand and relate information about topics outside my comfort zone.
It also dawned on me that if the information exists, as a future Librarian, I should be able to find it. This knowledge is empowering because I have been flummoxed by how to get from here to there on several areas of my life.
I now know that if I can formulate the question, I can find the answer.
I started Library School because I figured if I had to work a real job, the Library was a good setting. I planned on being an elementary school librarian because I could finally use my teaching certificate in a viable way after 30 years of disuse.
I figured I had just about enough work life left in me to prevent being a burden to my children in my old age.
Throughout our trials, I always figured I'd worry about myself later.
When my youngest child left home, that time began.
But Dr. Hersberger invited me to dream and explore--things I love, and by dreaming and exploring, I am learning where my niche lies and where it does not.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Books Make Free Men to the Chagrin of Would-Be Enslavers
Father Eby had such a beautiful, sonorous voice that I didn't even much mind sitting through the sermons every Sunday, singing in the Good Shephard Episcopal Junior Choir.
I vowed to read the Bible, and bored by who begat whom, finally skipping ahead to the words in red, thanks to an Apocropha.
The words in red, what Jesus is purported to have said, is baby, and religion, its bath water.
Christ's teachings spoke to me, shaping how I wanted to live.
Later I wondered if I should be a Jew because Jesus was, and I don't think he'd be very pleased with what has been done in his Name.
I think he'd enter the temple and kick over all the tables in a terrible temper.
I didn't see the humor until much, much later; my nineteen year old self, blythe, earnest, and proud, presenting, and defending my paper that proved quite clearly that Christ Fufilled the Prophecies and stuff and so-on to my two professors, who I remembered later were both Jewish.
They were kind, and while I was entirely oblivious to it at the time, their manner, their polite-ness, maybe their silences, floated up in my memory from time to time and gave me questions, until I saw it and laughed loudly.
When I understood more
the impact of politics,
that history belongs to the Victor,
the power of translation to change a work,
how many lies I had been taught as history,
the lengths some will go for money and power,
that the same wisdom occurs in a variety of religions,
that poverty is not an accident,
and that my God would have a sense of humor and overlook it
If I'm wrong to think the Christian leap of faith, blood sacrifice of an innocent, idolatry, and fear, is illogical.
When I see a flower, I am unafraid.
When I see the "Justice" System preying on the poor,
when I know how expensive it is to be poor, with added chains, spit, and indiginities and almost impossible to escape,
When I know that hunger is more about power and distribution than world resources,
When I know the system set in place to deal with domestic violence makes things far worse,
These things, and many more: When I see them, I know it could be different.
Each world citizen should have their basic needs met in order for the world to evolve to a place where higher thought is even possible. When you are hungry, your dreams are of food. When you have food and shelter, you may dream of many things.
The Library is at a unique crossroad in the transition from providing citizens with basic needs and ensuring the right of each person to have information and the tools needed to access it, a higher level need. The Library gives the homeless shelter from the elements, and gives the lonely a place to be, while it provides the books, computers, and instruction that allow higher level thinking opportunities.
I am intrigued with the future of the Library.
I plan to write my vision for the Library of the Future when I learn more about what the library is facing with the digital age.
I vowed to read the Bible, and bored by who begat whom, finally skipping ahead to the words in red, thanks to an Apocropha.
The words in red, what Jesus is purported to have said, is baby, and religion, its bath water.
Christ's teachings spoke to me, shaping how I wanted to live.
Later I wondered if I should be a Jew because Jesus was, and I don't think he'd be very pleased with what has been done in his Name.
I think he'd enter the temple and kick over all the tables in a terrible temper.
I didn't see the humor until much, much later; my nineteen year old self, blythe, earnest, and proud, presenting, and defending my paper that proved quite clearly that Christ Fufilled the Prophecies and stuff and so-on to my two professors, who I remembered later were both Jewish.
They were kind, and while I was entirely oblivious to it at the time, their manner, their polite-ness, maybe their silences, floated up in my memory from time to time and gave me questions, until I saw it and laughed loudly.
When I understood more
the impact of politics,
that history belongs to the Victor,
the power of translation to change a work,
how many lies I had been taught as history,
the lengths some will go for money and power,
that the same wisdom occurs in a variety of religions,
that poverty is not an accident,
and that my God would have a sense of humor and overlook it
If I'm wrong to think the Christian leap of faith, blood sacrifice of an innocent, idolatry, and fear, is illogical.
When I see a flower, I am unafraid.
When I see the "Justice" System preying on the poor,
when I know how expensive it is to be poor, with added chains, spit, and indiginities and almost impossible to escape,
When I know that hunger is more about power and distribution than world resources,
When I know the system set in place to deal with domestic violence makes things far worse,
These things, and many more: When I see them, I know it could be different.
Each world citizen should have their basic needs met in order for the world to evolve to a place where higher thought is even possible. When you are hungry, your dreams are of food. When you have food and shelter, you may dream of many things.
The Library is at a unique crossroad in the transition from providing citizens with basic needs and ensuring the right of each person to have information and the tools needed to access it, a higher level need. The Library gives the homeless shelter from the elements, and gives the lonely a place to be, while it provides the books, computers, and instruction that allow higher level thinking opportunities.
I am intrigued with the future of the Library.
I plan to write my vision for the Library of the Future when I learn more about what the library is facing with the digital age.
Information is Useless If It Cannot Be Accessed, etc.
On the night of the funeral, four daughters stand side by side in the dark, watching their homeplace burn.
Should we call the fire department?
Not yet, says the youngest. Wait.
We wait until its much too late, feeling our burden lift as the house collapses in a ball of flames.
Then we drink tequila in the graveyard, laughing.
At least that's how we dreamed it one time when our youngest pointed out that someday it would all be ours.
Inheritance is not an easy topic with the hoarder's child.
And too, there is an unspoken horror of becoming a hoarder too. What if it's genetic or catching?
Daughters 1 & 3(me) have minimal possessions to maintain order. We let go more than we keep.
Daughters 2 & 4 have a comfortable place for everything and everything in its place, masters of creating and using space.
Hoarding is an illustration of what could happen to information if the Library did not exist. We'd have heaps and piles of information without a way to access it. Information that cannot be accessed is useless, just as possessions are useless if they cannot be found.
I did not realize that my propensity to organize, group, list, and catalog my own life and information was a characteristic befitting a library school student.
I have written to understand, to clarify my many voices, to make sense of my barrages of sensation, to organize my thoughts, to locate what I think, to keep a record of my attitudes, for comfort.
When I assimilate my input or information and write, I feel an obligation to share what I've learned.
It matters not to me if it is read, but it feels wrong not to share what I've learned.
What good is my knowledge if it is buried when I am?
However, what I consider Knowledge simply becomes Information when I share it.
The symbiotic relationship between Information and Knowledge is intriguing, and as far as I can ascertain, they continually morph from one to another in crazy eights.
My knowledge is your potential information.
But my "knowledge" could be "wrong", or useless to another, which leads to considerations of perception and belief, where "right" and "wrong" are subjective.
My job is to share, however, and I cannot concern myself with how or if I will be received.
A story or a song carries with it, a sense of obligation, a feeling that is not really a story or a song if it is not offered up to the universe with the potential to be read or heard.
Humanity's upward spirals are due to sharing information, most easily seen by the breakthroughs in science by continual sharing, use, and assimiliation of knowledge.
Even scientific theory that has proven to be wrong has been important in the evolution of scientific knowledge, providing fodder for ideas, starting points for more accurate research, or acting as gauntlets thrown to other scientists.
I am grateful to authors like Martha Graham, and Maya Angelou, Thoreau, Adam Smith, Benjamin Franklin, Zen Masters, and countless others, that changed my life by speaking to me. Where would I be without them? How would I understand the meaning of my life without their wisdom and voice? I would be alone in the darkness, ashamed and untamed, unworthy to live, a mistaken vessel.
Alive or dead, my author/mentors reached out and spoke to me, cheering me on through life, advising and comforting, without ever knowing their impact on their future readers' lives.
Aside from doing harm to others, the only real "sin" I can ascertain is "hiding your light under a bushel basket," i.e. not sharing.
Whoever you are and whatever you have to offer must be shared or it is nothing.
Should we call the fire department?
Not yet, says the youngest. Wait.
We wait until its much too late, feeling our burden lift as the house collapses in a ball of flames.
Then we drink tequila in the graveyard, laughing.
At least that's how we dreamed it one time when our youngest pointed out that someday it would all be ours.
Inheritance is not an easy topic with the hoarder's child.
And too, there is an unspoken horror of becoming a hoarder too. What if it's genetic or catching?
Daughters 1 & 3(me) have minimal possessions to maintain order. We let go more than we keep.
Daughters 2 & 4 have a comfortable place for everything and everything in its place, masters of creating and using space.
Hoarding is an illustration of what could happen to information if the Library did not exist. We'd have heaps and piles of information without a way to access it. Information that cannot be accessed is useless, just as possessions are useless if they cannot be found.
I did not realize that my propensity to organize, group, list, and catalog my own life and information was a characteristic befitting a library school student.
I have written to understand, to clarify my many voices, to make sense of my barrages of sensation, to organize my thoughts, to locate what I think, to keep a record of my attitudes, for comfort.
When I assimilate my input or information and write, I feel an obligation to share what I've learned.
It matters not to me if it is read, but it feels wrong not to share what I've learned.
What good is my knowledge if it is buried when I am?
However, what I consider Knowledge simply becomes Information when I share it.
The symbiotic relationship between Information and Knowledge is intriguing, and as far as I can ascertain, they continually morph from one to another in crazy eights.
My knowledge is your potential information.
But my "knowledge" could be "wrong", or useless to another, which leads to considerations of perception and belief, where "right" and "wrong" are subjective.
My job is to share, however, and I cannot concern myself with how or if I will be received.
A story or a song carries with it, a sense of obligation, a feeling that is not really a story or a song if it is not offered up to the universe with the potential to be read or heard.
Humanity's upward spirals are due to sharing information, most easily seen by the breakthroughs in science by continual sharing, use, and assimiliation of knowledge.
Even scientific theory that has proven to be wrong has been important in the evolution of scientific knowledge, providing fodder for ideas, starting points for more accurate research, or acting as gauntlets thrown to other scientists.
I am grateful to authors like Martha Graham, and Maya Angelou, Thoreau, Adam Smith, Benjamin Franklin, Zen Masters, and countless others, that changed my life by speaking to me. Where would I be without them? How would I understand the meaning of my life without their wisdom and voice? I would be alone in the darkness, ashamed and untamed, unworthy to live, a mistaken vessel.
Alive or dead, my author/mentors reached out and spoke to me, cheering me on through life, advising and comforting, without ever knowing their impact on their future readers' lives.
Aside from doing harm to others, the only real "sin" I can ascertain is "hiding your light under a bushel basket," i.e. not sharing.
Whoever you are and whatever you have to offer must be shared or it is nothing.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Tout & Shout: The Importance of Marketing (To me & the Library)
I have self-published two books. Luckily all I had in mind was to hold them in my hands and read them like I was a stranger, because I only sold any to myself. This proves that you can accept a free ISBN# and even have a bar code, like I did for "Hip & Broke", but if you don't introduce yourself, if you don't tout yourself and your book to the world, you will never have readers.
Future Librarians abhor touting (although this is a weakness that is being examined by both me and the Library, and needs a full post in the future.)
I need to tout & shout because I want the luxury of time to write. I have two screenplays, one utopian novel, and a few other must-writes in my head, just waiting to spill out.
The Library, too, recognises its need for some fuss and fanfare. Librarians are typically not look-at-me people, look what we do, look what we've done.
I didn't realize until I started Library School, for example, the huge void the library fills in its service to the have-nots, and I've been a patron/fan of the library for almost 50 years. I don't think the public knows it, but unfortunately, it is not a look-at-me opportunity by its very nature.
The library is an equalizer, providing tools and resources to all, allowing access and experiences to its patrons. Another institution might be able to point this out, as it would surely be a blow, especially to the least of us, if the library were to cease to exist.
The Library is color-blind, however, and all men are equal. Librarians can't, don't, won't invade a patron's privacy. Any appraisal a librarian does is only for the purpose of serving patrons' needs. Promoting the library's service to the have-nots is not something a librarian does.
Future Librarians abhor touting (although this is a weakness that is being examined by both me and the Library, and needs a full post in the future.)
I need to tout & shout because I want the luxury of time to write. I have two screenplays, one utopian novel, and a few other must-writes in my head, just waiting to spill out.
The Library, too, recognises its need for some fuss and fanfare. Librarians are typically not look-at-me people, look what we do, look what we've done.
I didn't realize until I started Library School, for example, the huge void the library fills in its service to the have-nots, and I've been a patron/fan of the library for almost 50 years. I don't think the public knows it, but unfortunately, it is not a look-at-me opportunity by its very nature.
The library is an equalizer, providing tools and resources to all, allowing access and experiences to its patrons. Another institution might be able to point this out, as it would surely be a blow, especially to the least of us, if the library were to cease to exist.
The Library is color-blind, however, and all men are equal. Librarians can't, don't, won't invade a patron's privacy. Any appraisal a librarian does is only for the purpose of serving patrons' needs. Promoting the library's service to the have-nots is not something a librarian does.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
KD Rouse: UNC-G/late 80's
I was a stay at home mom for nine years and went back to school to finish my degree at UNC-G when it became clear that my children and I needed to seek higher ground.
I also started waiting tables at Mama Leonis, a job I kept for five years.
Waitressing, while seemingly beneath a person with my education, gave me experience in talking to many people, up close, over and over, until I was a walking, talking, efficient, philosophical, fun-loving, guru waitress. ("Musings of a Guru Waitress" by KD Rouse-unpublished)
Finishing my degree at UNC-G in the late 80's opened my world. It made me feel smart and built up my battered self-esteem. I felt nurtured and respected, and learned to speak to my classmates without a horrible lurch in my stomach. I didn't feel so much a black sheep by finishing my degree, my three sisters all having master's and beyond, successful jobs, nice homes, husbands, etc.
My experiences at UNC-G gave me confidence that I never had before, leading to the most powerful illustration I've ever seen as to the power of confidence: After a year of so of working at Mama Leonies, I went from being unnoticed to being hit upon by my customers and everyone wanted to be my friend. To me, I looked the same. Upon reflection of this surprising turn of events, I decided the only change was confidence.
I loved studying education, all the way through student teaching.
When I tried the real thing by myself, it was the hardest, most stressful job I've ever tried, and 30 years later I still shudder when I think about it.
Maintaining order and discipline in the classroom, and talking to the parents got me.
My first day teaching, I arrived early to be greeted by the two custodian ladies. They looked me over, leaning on their mops, and said, "Oh Chile, they are goin ta eat you up." "Lord, they surely is." I beamed at them wide-eyed while they looked at me sympathetically, shaking their heads. Oh, Lord. They were right.
I also started waiting tables at Mama Leonis, a job I kept for five years.
Waitressing, while seemingly beneath a person with my education, gave me experience in talking to many people, up close, over and over, until I was a walking, talking, efficient, philosophical, fun-loving, guru waitress. ("Musings of a Guru Waitress" by KD Rouse-unpublished)
Finishing my degree at UNC-G in the late 80's opened my world. It made me feel smart and built up my battered self-esteem. I felt nurtured and respected, and learned to speak to my classmates without a horrible lurch in my stomach. I didn't feel so much a black sheep by finishing my degree, my three sisters all having master's and beyond, successful jobs, nice homes, husbands, etc.
My experiences at UNC-G gave me confidence that I never had before, leading to the most powerful illustration I've ever seen as to the power of confidence: After a year of so of working at Mama Leonies, I went from being unnoticed to being hit upon by my customers and everyone wanted to be my friend. To me, I looked the same. Upon reflection of this surprising turn of events, I decided the only change was confidence.
I loved studying education, all the way through student teaching.
When I tried the real thing by myself, it was the hardest, most stressful job I've ever tried, and 30 years later I still shudder when I think about it.
Maintaining order and discipline in the classroom, and talking to the parents got me.
My first day teaching, I arrived early to be greeted by the two custodian ladies. They looked me over, leaning on their mops, and said, "Oh Chile, they are goin ta eat you up." "Lord, they surely is." I beamed at them wide-eyed while they looked at me sympathetically, shaking their heads. Oh, Lord. They were right.
The Future of the Library
Libraries have always held a cherished place in the hearts, minds, and pocketbooks of U.S. citizens, but will future generations share this devotion to the library?
Laura Weiss, author of a 1997 article "Buildings, books, and bytes: Libraries and communities in the digital age" unearths an unsettling disparity between how library leaders envision the future of the library as opposed to a polling of public opinion. The role of the library shrinks as the public is asked to envision the library of the future. The public imagines it as a museum rather than a gateway to information. (1)
If we are a paperless society with access to information from home or a myriad of mobile devices, what need is there for a library?
Generations of us have gone to the library to do homework, and research, meet with friends and work on projects, to go to story time, use the computer, peruse the shelves for our next book to read, or simply to have a place to be. Libraries have always been a source of civic pride, a library seen as mandatory for any community of worth.
Of all groups polled in Weiss' article, the library is least valued by today's teenagers, the future lawmakers and taxpayers. Our current teens may be the first generation that does not have a sentimental attachment to the library, which spells danger for the future library.
The library has always been The Gateway for information.
With the internet, there are now many Gateways to Information.
Do the other Gateways lead to the Library?
Or does the Library lead to the other Gateways?
What is the Library of the Future?
I need to know:
What role todays library has in relation to the information on the internet.
Does the library have access to all of the information on the internet?
What is the source of the library's collection of digitized work from the internet? (Who gets what first and how does it come to the library)
Are electronically published works cataloged in a consistent format such as MARC (Machine Readable Copy)?
Is the Library of Congress still a main hub with a record of all published works?
How the Library of Congress is handling digitized information. Do the same rules of copyright apply to digitized information as to bound books?
(1) Weiss, Laura. "Buildings, books, and bytes: Libraries and communities in the digital age." APLIS 10, no. 3: 163, 1997. Academic Search Premier, EBSCOhost (accessed July 1, 2011).
Laura Weiss, author of a 1997 article "Buildings, books, and bytes: Libraries and communities in the digital age" unearths an unsettling disparity between how library leaders envision the future of the library as opposed to a polling of public opinion. The role of the library shrinks as the public is asked to envision the library of the future. The public imagines it as a museum rather than a gateway to information. (1)
If we are a paperless society with access to information from home or a myriad of mobile devices, what need is there for a library?
Generations of us have gone to the library to do homework, and research, meet with friends and work on projects, to go to story time, use the computer, peruse the shelves for our next book to read, or simply to have a place to be. Libraries have always been a source of civic pride, a library seen as mandatory for any community of worth.
Of all groups polled in Weiss' article, the library is least valued by today's teenagers, the future lawmakers and taxpayers. Our current teens may be the first generation that does not have a sentimental attachment to the library, which spells danger for the future library.
The library has always been The Gateway for information.
With the internet, there are now many Gateways to Information.
Do the other Gateways lead to the Library?
Or does the Library lead to the other Gateways?
What is the Library of the Future?
I need to know:
What role todays library has in relation to the information on the internet.
Does the library have access to all of the information on the internet?
What is the source of the library's collection of digitized work from the internet? (Who gets what first and how does it come to the library)
Are electronically published works cataloged in a consistent format such as MARC (Machine Readable Copy)?
Is the Library of Congress still a main hub with a record of all published works?
How the Library of Congress is handling digitized information. Do the same rules of copyright apply to digitized information as to bound books?
(1) Weiss, Laura. "Buildings, books, and bytes: Libraries and communities in the digital age." APLIS 10, no. 3: 163, 1997. Academic Search Premier, EBSCOhost (accessed July 1, 2011).
KD Rouse: Higher Education Eras-St. John's-Late 70's
St. John's College, in Annapolis, Maryland, (the Great Books School) taught me that I did not know how to listen.
Always a diligent student, I went to the required, very formal lecture every Friday night and no matter how I vowed to follow the speaker from start to finish, it would never last long, my mind wandering hither and to, about this and that, until the speaker's voice, laughter, clapping, or sudden silence would interrupt my
tangential reveries.
I found it a horrifying revelation, covering my lapses by bobbing my head, laughing, applauding when the others did.
I did the same thing as a child, watching my two older sisters for when to do what, how to look, what to say to avoid the minefields in the land of Oz.
I made a vow to learn to listen, and have practiced, making great strides over the past 30+ years.
I still prefer reading to listening, and writing to speaking because no matter where I go, I can come back and be where I left off, and, I can locate at what point the words became gloss and fodder and read again until I understand.
I still fidget or fall asleep in the time in takes to watch a whole movie.
It has taken me five decades to identify that it is almost impossible to repeat a conversation verbatim, remembering only what I took away.
I also finally realized how often I hear the musicality of speech over the meaning of individual words. I've heard whole forests and not one tree, loved songs my whole life without knowing a single word except in the chorus.
Words can become linked in my head so that I don't recognise the meaning of either word. While my vocabulary included the words "fatally" and "killed," I didn't understand the joke of "Fatally Killed" in a journalism class devoted to headlines until hours later, when I could see the words floating up from my memory.
To this day, I approximate what I think I've heard, the same little girl who was accused of being cheeky when she said "President," instead of "Present" at Bible School roll call, and makes people laugh at her inventive variations of their names. Whether they think I am cheeky or clever, it is usually neither. It is usually quite unintentional.
During my St. John's era, where we had required bi-weekly seminars to discuss our reading, I realized I did not know how to communicate my ideas to others effectively, speaking instead in leaps and bounds that no one else could follow. I was also stricken by nauseating fear when I thought about talking.
The same night Mortimer Adler was carried off the St. John's auditorium stage mid-lecture by a representative of the prankster-loving Junior class, (creating absolute outrage and scandal), he roared at us for presuming we could even hope to understand the Great Books at our tender ages, admonishing us to consider this only the beginning, that learning was a life-long pursuit in our own hands, that the Great Books are great because they will speak to you differently according to who you are when you read them, and that we should never consider our education to be done.
While he seemed crusty and salty, and the last person you would want to carry off stage in a gorilla suit, Mortimer Adler spoke to me that scandalous night and I listened.
I have also learned to accept my way of doing things, using skills I do have, and channeling my quirks to work for me. I think these things are the reason I can write songs, and why I have been compelled to write.
My inner librarian has guided me to seek order within chaos and sparked my interest in how information is grouped and retrieved, for knowledge is power and books make free men.
Always a diligent student, I went to the required, very formal lecture every Friday night and no matter how I vowed to follow the speaker from start to finish, it would never last long, my mind wandering hither and to, about this and that, until the speaker's voice, laughter, clapping, or sudden silence would interrupt my
tangential reveries.
I found it a horrifying revelation, covering my lapses by bobbing my head, laughing, applauding when the others did.
I did the same thing as a child, watching my two older sisters for when to do what, how to look, what to say to avoid the minefields in the land of Oz.
I made a vow to learn to listen, and have practiced, making great strides over the past 30+ years.
I still prefer reading to listening, and writing to speaking because no matter where I go, I can come back and be where I left off, and, I can locate at what point the words became gloss and fodder and read again until I understand.
I still fidget or fall asleep in the time in takes to watch a whole movie.
It has taken me five decades to identify that it is almost impossible to repeat a conversation verbatim, remembering only what I took away.
I also finally realized how often I hear the musicality of speech over the meaning of individual words. I've heard whole forests and not one tree, loved songs my whole life without knowing a single word except in the chorus.
Words can become linked in my head so that I don't recognise the meaning of either word. While my vocabulary included the words "fatally" and "killed," I didn't understand the joke of "Fatally Killed" in a journalism class devoted to headlines until hours later, when I could see the words floating up from my memory.
To this day, I approximate what I think I've heard, the same little girl who was accused of being cheeky when she said "President," instead of "Present" at Bible School roll call, and makes people laugh at her inventive variations of their names. Whether they think I am cheeky or clever, it is usually neither. It is usually quite unintentional.
During my St. John's era, where we had required bi-weekly seminars to discuss our reading, I realized I did not know how to communicate my ideas to others effectively, speaking instead in leaps and bounds that no one else could follow. I was also stricken by nauseating fear when I thought about talking.
The same night Mortimer Adler was carried off the St. John's auditorium stage mid-lecture by a representative of the prankster-loving Junior class, (creating absolute outrage and scandal), he roared at us for presuming we could even hope to understand the Great Books at our tender ages, admonishing us to consider this only the beginning, that learning was a life-long pursuit in our own hands, that the Great Books are great because they will speak to you differently according to who you are when you read them, and that we should never consider our education to be done.
While he seemed crusty and salty, and the last person you would want to carry off stage in a gorilla suit, Mortimer Adler spoke to me that scandalous night and I listened.
I have also learned to accept my way of doing things, using skills I do have, and channeling my quirks to work for me. I think these things are the reason I can write songs, and why I have been compelled to write.
My inner librarian has guided me to seek order within chaos and sparked my interest in how information is grouped and retrieved, for knowledge is power and books make free men.
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