 We've still got 6 work weeks left in 2024, but Thanksgiving always seems to signal the beginning of "circle back in the new year" season. At this point in the year, I don't like to take on anything new. My brain is generally done when it comes to "thinky" things. I prefer to finish up odds and ends and start planning - but just planning - for next year projects. It's a lot of email follow-ups, file organizing, list making, and project set up in my Trello. At what point do you decide to coast through the end the year? 
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 I'm listening in on a faculty union meeting as I write this post. Thankfully, it is far less contentious than our last meeting. I don't think I could have handled my stress level going that high on a Friday.
Here's what else made me smile this week:
 House of Sky and Breath
Sarah J. Maas After finishing the first book in the Crescent City series, I rolled right in to the second. I'm only 50 pages in so we're back to plot set up. I was rather intrigued by the preface that introduces this novel. I can't wait to see how it connects back to our two main characters. Also, now that I'm in book two, the world building feels much less info dumpy which I appreciate. *Books shared here are affiliate links for Bookshop.org  It's been ages since I gave myself an "odds and ends" day in my office. This is a day where I tackle all the random piles on my desk, knock out tiny things on my to-do list, and, in the special case of today, finally organize my office after our move. There are still two boxes I need space for, but our Director just gave me the go ahead to order a storage cabinet. It will be nice to no longer be working out of boxes.
Here's what else I've been working on:
One of the perils of being a librarian who was raised by a librarian that happened to work in a museum is that you can never just visit a museum. I always end up assessing things for the how and why behind the exhibit curation. It's a professional hazard. On my trip to St. Louis, I made time to visit the Gateway Arch. My plan was to take the tram to go up to the top, snap a few pictures, and then head back down for a walk around the park. I did not know, until I arrived, that the Arch comes with an underground museum about the history of St. Louis and the westward expansion movement. After my trip to the top, I headed back to the museum to take a look at things. Now, kudos to the curators. They packed in a lot of material in a relatively small space. There was a great mix of adult and kid content with plenty of interactive portions. My main quibble with the content was, as with most museums, the exhibit glazed over the sheer cruelty of westward expansion to the Native American populations. I get that you don't want to scare people or have R-rated material, but we've got to be a bit more honest with our history. Aside from that, the material on display was great. What I could not get over was the layout. The architects clearly designed the underground space to mimic the curves of the Arch. That's cool from a design stand point, but it's difficult to work with as a museum curator. The room layout forces a weird flow on the visitor. Instead of moving in a linear or clearly forward path, you had to loop back across the main hallway several times if you wanted to follow the timeline structure. This put you in the path of school groups and other tourists who were zooming through to get to their tram ride times. The curved design also meant the middle of the "circles" of each loop had to be filled with something. The curators wisely used these for their more interactive or installation style materials, but it meant they felt a touch separated from the main timeline of the rest of the exhibit. I would bet money that the architects of the space never met with the curators and librarians who would need to work with it. That is not uncommon at all. In fact, we had to go through that with my own library. Aside from a few questions sent over email, we never got to have input on our new space. And, now, we have to live with the inherent design flaws. These are the things most visitors never see. But, if you ever think, "Why they heck is that like that?" when you visit a museum or library, now you know why.
I'm back home after my first trip to St. Louis for a conference. It was a quick visit so there are a few places I want to check out in the future. Good thing this conference will be going back to St. Louis for the next few years.
Here's what else made me smile this week:
I read a lot of books with my kiddo. Kid Reads is a biweekly look at what we've enjoyed recently.
*Books shared here are affiliate links for Bookshop.org
I'm attending the Library Marketing and Communications Conference this week. It's two days of library excellence and information sharing. I adore this conference. Every session is applicable and it's wonderful to be in a room of librarians. While the vibes of this conference are a little different than past years, this is a group that is all about helping each other out. I needed to be immersed in this space of kindness this week.
Here's what I'm working on:
When I sat down to write this intro, I couldn't decide if I wanted to despair or rage. The conversations I have in my head are all over the place. In many ways, I'm feeling every stage of grief at once. There are moments I'm numb and I feel utterly detached from reality. There are moments I'm scared which has lead me to make plans to fortify against the coming tempest. There are moments I'm so sad I can't do anything but cry and hold on as the waves of heartbreak roll through me. There are moments of white hot anger. I want to blame everyone and everything that led us to this point. I want to scream from the top of my lungs, throw things against the wall, and march straight up to the Capitol and give them a verbal dose of my wrath. Then an eerie calm comes over me. You can't sustain those heavy emotions for long. It's too exhausting. But that's what has me most afraid. Everything that has happened now feels all too common. And we can't let it feel that way. We can't yield without a fight against the oncoming storm. As a DC resident, I have a lot at risk. We do not have statehood. We do not have voting representation in Congress. Our laws are reviewed by Congress. When that Congress is Republican, they treat us as a hostile enemy and enact policies on our city that we, its residents, do not want. They use the District as a guinea pig to see what they can get away with. In a worst case scenario, they can even revoke our Home Rule, impose a control board, and run things as they want. My literal health and job are at risk. I had my IUD replaced on Friday. That was three years early, but there is a legitimate risk that I lose access to birth control. I'm making a list of all the vaccines I need to get at my next appointment in case my access to those is removed. My husband and I are talking about what happens if I lose my job. I work in an academic library for a public University. An HBCU no less. Funding for higher ed AND libraries is on the chopping block. (If you thought the current book bans were bad...) In a city that may have no control over its own funds, my University could be forced to close. And, I'm renewing my passport just in case. This was not the to do list Kamala Harris was talking about, but it's the to do list I now have. But I refuse to capitulate to what is coming. Too often, we concede to make things easier in the hope that maybe, just maybe, that will be enough. But when we give an inch, we set a precedent. I am not setting that precedent. As a white woman with means, I am going to use my privilege to stem as much of the tide as I can. I am not giving in without a fight.
This was a hard week in which to find the good, but persevere we must.
Here are the moments I'm holding onto:
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