Hit the Road, Hoppy-Toad

Adults are not allowed in the Children's Room of our library.  Well, not exactly.  Stray adults are not supposed to be wandering around the CR.  Adults with children can hang out.  Caregivers can come in without their charges and look for books.  There isn't an operating PAC station in the adult area downstairs, so they have to come into the CR to look up a book.  The die-cut machine is available to the public and it's pretty deep in the CR.  So many exceptions.  But how do you know if you have a stray adult or a caregiver?  Yesterday I lurked by the desk to tell a woman that, for future information, there are adult restrooms in the adult area behind the stairs.  I am not going to make someone turn around and go the whole length of the building in case it is an emergency.  I will let them know there is a better choice in their own area.  It turned out she had kids in the CR.  I'm glad she spoke to them as soon as she came out or I'd have been embarrassed.

My strategy has always been to ask what appear to be stray adults if I can help them, but often they say no and keep moving.  Next, I follow them and start a tour of the CR.  They've helped pay for it, so they should be allowed to see where their money has gone.  "You are in the Children's Room," I begin.  "Is there something I can show you?"  If they seem amenable, I will show off the computers for children, the puppet stage for children, the program room, the homework/tutoring rooms, etc.  Usually this will work.  In fact, I've given two tours already this morning.  I will then finish it all off by suggesting they see the upstairs as well ("Run along, now!").

I don't want to appear to be accusing someone of anything or singling anyone out.  I did monitor one man who didn't want help, didn't want a tour, but was just going to watch the children, he said, long enough to determine that he was actually there as a father who had finished what he was doing elsewhere in the library and was rejoining his wife and kid.  Anyone could be there with a kid.  The kids run down on their own (they're supposed to have an adult with them - and there's another thorny issue) and I have to look to see if an adult is coming along to be with them.  Which adult?

A new library generates new membership.  I don't know half of these people.  The last thing I want is to come off like some brassy library dragon who challenges every adult who walks in (not to mention intimidates young children who got ahead of their parents).  This is a tightrope I walk every day - without any set guidelines.  All I know is: no stray adults and no unaccompanied children unless they're old enough to be too old for the CR, at which point they should be annoying the teen center people upstairs. 

No adults on the children's computers - except we don't have the in-house use laptops yet, so parents often work or surf next to their children on the children's computers. 

And, while we're at it, absolutely everyone, even nice people, is ignoring the "Please Turn Off Cell Phones" signs.  I had a mom poke her head in the CR last night and say to her middle-school daughter, "You have a cell phone, look at it.  I've called you three times."  Ummm ... lady, she's not supposed to have it turned on.  That's, like, a rule - like the one about no food or drink. 

It's possible that we need signage, but the more you put up, the less inclined people are to read them.  And I bet the architect will have a hissy fit if we start putting up any big signs on his nice, clean walls and columns.  So it's down to me confronting people.  Sometimes I wish I had brass - but I just don't.  Why can't you just get in people's faces and tell them they aren't welcome in the CR for some reason?   Well, there you go.  If it's a child, I don't want to turn the library into some horrible experience (that kept me out of public libraries until I was in college).  If it's an adult, who is paying for the building and my salary (however distantly), I don't want them to write letters to the editor or to their councilmen (or keying my car, depending on how they tend to react to rejection) because they wandered unknowingly into Forbidden Territory.   I want them to see their library ... once, at least.   I'm proud of it.  I want kids to feel welcome, but not fall between some cracks (too old for the CR, too young to be in the adult computer lab alone). 

For now, this is my method of coping:
Step One: "May I help you?" [Who are you and what are you doing in here?]
Step Two: "This is the Children's Room.  May I show you something?" [You can't stay.]
Step Three: "Don't miss the second floor!  There is a really nice view of North Main Street from the rotunda upstairs!" [Now, scram!]

I'm working on polite ways of making people with cell phones not talk on them.  I'll stick with "Where's your mom, honey?" for loose kids.