It Was the Best of Weeks, It Was the Worst of Weeks

Sometimes, you just need a kick in the pants to snap out of it. I wasn’t looking for one—I was fully committed to wallowing in my frustrations—but my coordinator came along and delivered it anyway. And by "kick in the pants," I mean an aggressively supportive pep talk (one of my favorite things about her).

This year, I hadn’t been doing many lessons—just my usual research and digital resource sessions for our GT classes as they moved through their R4D projects. Instead, I had been laser-focused on circulation, especially since I had written a circulation increase into my yearly goals. In hindsight, that was a mistake. I got caught up in making a SMART goal and thought a 5% increase in checkouts would be a solid, attainable target. And it was—just not the right goal for me this year. Since this is my first year splitting time between two campuses, I was comparing apples to oranges.

And since there’s no real way to make a SMART goal for figuring out my life, my priority should have been relationship-building—maintaining connections at my original campus and establishing myself at my new one. Ironically, that alone would have set me up to achieve my secondary goal of doing more lessons. But I tend to get stuck on a problem and refuse to let it go (I will absolutely beat a dead horse), so I kept pushing toward a goal that wasn’t serving me.

After my pep talk, I felt incredibly anxious—not because I cared about missing my circulation goal, but because my brain wouldn’t let it go. Even though I knew I had done everything I could to get teachers to bring their students, I kept thinking, If I can’t even get them to check out books, why would they collaborate with me? Which is ridiculous. I have already made myself an invaluable resource at Houston over the past three years, and that hasn’t changed. Having two campuses just means I need to rethink how I reach students.

So, I started shifting my approach. I created weekly book talks for student broadcast channels and looked for ways to push out book recommendations to places students already are. Enter: toilet book talkers. Inspired by Amanda Hunt's PD version, I print them two to a page, cut them in half, and make sure every student bathroom has a fresh set. Earlier this year, I made a SORA version with QR codes, and students actually started asking for physical copies of the books—proof that it works.

Another game-changer? Melissa Corey's visual book lists. These have been wildly successful, and I even created my own "If You Liked..." visual list that’s included in the desk reference I use for all my book lists. Students seem to love flipping through it.

One of my biggest wins with 6th graders was Clair's Book Recommendations. I wrote different types of book suggestions on squares of paper—some really specific (Try a book by Katherine Applegate), others more open-ended (Pick an adventure book from the bottom shelf). They loved it. I need to do a better job of rotating these slips and updating my visual book lists beyond just holiday-themed ones.

All of this to say: Finding balance has been tricky, but I think I’m getting there. My plan moving forward is to:
✅ Have my clerks rotate visual book lists and the book recommendation jar.
✅ Ensure as many books as possible are displayed face-out.
✅ Keep developing unit resources for my middle school librarian team.
✅ Attend PLC meetings at the campus I’m not scheduled at that day, so I stay visible to teachers.
✅ Check in with teachers like I always have.

Honestly, I got stuck on a problem and let it shape my entire approach while I kept trying to force something that wasn’t working. Now, I’m shifting my focus back to what actually matters—engagement, relationships, and making sure students have meaningful access to books, whether they find them in the library, on a screen, or even in the bathroom stall.