Rules, Shmules

Maybe my problem is my background, although I can't say that was my sister's problem and she was ostensibly from the same family (even if our parents were the same people, considering the years between my sister and me, they were also different ... if you catch my drift).  We'll never know what her problem was. Mom said if my sister had been born later she would have been diagnosed with ADD.  My sister seemed to enjoy breaking rules just because they were there, if my memory of her college experience is anything to go on.  Why a smoking, drinking, swearing, dancing, card-playing person would go to a small Baptist college is a question for another day.

So, I go on and off my background being my problem.  It may only have been my fear of conflict (which I swear I remember going on between my parents and my sister as far back as my term in the womb) that caused me to make sure I was doing everything right when she was being yelled at.  While my parents were against the usual Ten Commandment type stuff, they certainly didn't pay much attention to the Volstead Act.  My dad and his friends from Mechanics Institute (now RIT) made something they called Plum Brandy from sugar, yeast, prunes and raisins or they "acquired" drums of grain alcohol and with the help of a hydrometer and some juniper juice made their own gin - for their own consumption ... and that of 50 to 100 of their closest friends.

My background is second generation American from a mixed background: my father's family was from northern Germany and my mother's from southern Germany (this gets a huge laugh among Germans for some reason).   My parents lectured work ethic ("Work makes life sweet," came down to us from the grandparents ... but perhaps they meant it made the rest of life sweet by comparison) but lived it as well.  My dad didn't know what a sick day was, unless it was the headaches he got on weekends from when he wasn't at work.  He had little patience for people who had excuses about why they were late, sick, their kids sick, etc.  Vacation was the last two weeks in July that the IBM plants shut down.  Even when my dad was no longer employed directly by IBM, he worked for vendors and kept the same schedule all his working life. 

My sister worked for our father and advised me to never follow suit.  Dad expected his own kids to work harder and apparently get paid less.  And then the other workers got annoyed with her because she made too many parts and might raise the expectations of the company as to how many parts could be assembled in an hour.  Harassment from fellow workers was nothing compared to what horrors (as I recall, the word "disappointed" featured largely in these) she would face at home.  I did not follow her advice, but by the time I was old enough to do factory work, Dad was managing a much smaller factory and I worked directly under him.  Because of that, people could see that I was ridden as hard if not harder than they were.  The floor supervisor had to argue with Dad to get me a raise - and that only worked the second summer. 

I, therefore, have little patience with people who can't get to work on time - a slightly watered-down version of my dad's.  If I have a fever, I stay home, regardless of how slight it is.  I will take time off for operations and recovery, and I will take a vacation any old time.  I like rules, though, rules give shape to life.  Perhaps in my sister's case rules were there to be reshaped into something more modern and free-form.  I can't ask her because she broke another rule by dying before our parents did. 

However, yesterday I was reading a response on Quora to a question about why airline boarding is such a nightmare and one responder mentioned how much more orderly Germans are about it because of their obsession with rules.  [Actually, I think I agree with the response about carry-on bags as the problem. Why anyone is in a hurry to sit in the cramped seating is beyond me.  It would be a mercy to wait until the last moment, but you never see anyone holding back until the plane is full to get on.]  If someone tells you you can't board until your section is announced, you don't queue up and get in everyone's way.  I tend to slavishly follow speed limits (a problem they don't have in Germany where they can work out their speedlust on the Autobahn - can you say Geschwindigkeitsbegrenzung?  Which is almost as much fun a word as Rrrrrreibungsbeiwert.) and other traffic laws.  I've read up on wave theory to better handle traffic situations (here's a big hint: remember that "rule" about leaving one car length per ten mph between you and the car in front? Big help!).  Now these things are second nature to me.  I don't gripe about speed limits and claim that "without rules people would behave in a reasonable manner" (after getting a speeding ticket for going 40 mph in a 25 mph zone).

If I were told there was a half hour limit on computer use time, by golly I'd make a point of sticking to it!  (You knew it would get to something really petty, didn't you?)  And if I had children I would teach them to do the same.  "You get a half an hour to play.  After that you have to pick out some books, listen to the books that come with CDs, put on a puppet show at the puppet theatre, play with the blocks, color, or just chill."  I see some parents who do that.  They may even suggest books be picked out first.   Then there are others who think no one actually waiting to get on the computers is an excuse to sit there all day.  It's my job to juggle with the leeway we grant.  But if you let people stay on forever occasionally despite the clear rule, they learn that the rule doesn't mean squatola-mcsteinhammer.  And this makes me frustrated enough to want to quit.  As long as you're not causing a nuisance, you can stay in the library for hours and hours - but I don't see why you should get the idea that not all rules apply to you.

It's situations like this that make me want to retire yesterday.  And wear dirndls.

Thus Shalt Thou Do

The Many and Sundry Commandments in Reference to Those, 

the Computers of the Children's Room

If thou owest five shekels or more, thou shalt not have access to the Computers of the Children's Room nor those of the Adult Computer Lab.
Thou shalt not bear false witness by showing the Librarian in the Children's Room the library card of someone else.
If thou art below the age of 12, thou shalt have thy parent with thee when thou art on the Computers of the Children's Room.
If thou art above the age of 12, thou shalt hie thyself to the Adult Computer Lab where the limit is 2 hours.
If thou art the age of 12, thou mightest possibly remain at the Computers of the Children's Room unaccompanied, but pusheth it thou not.
Regardless of thy age, thou shalt only remain on the Computers of the Children's Room for 30 minutes, even if there be no one else in waiting for it.
If thou art finishing a report for school thou mayest stay on the Computers of the Children's Room longer than 30 minutes, so makest sure thou art working on thy report and not desporting thyself on a videogame for 30 minutes be the limit.
If thou art a parent, thou mayest make use of the laptop computers for work or school and only for one hour.
Thou shalt not allow thy children to run wild in the library whilst thou peruseth the Book of Faces or ThouTube.
If thou art applying for a job, considereth that this may take more time than thou hadst planned on and hie thee to the Adult Computer Lab where the limit is 2 hours and leaveth thy children with a neighbor or thy mother or thy mother's mother.
Thou shalt not view material inappropriate for the Children's Room.  Thinkest thou about it.
Thou shalt not view Book of Faces, for it is an abomination, and if thou art under 13 years of age, thy Book of Faces account be against the website's Terms of Service and thou hast born false witness to obtain same.
Thou shalt not view videos on ThouTube, because it sucketh bandwidth something awful and ruineth the interwebs experience for all.
Thou shalt not allow a preschooler on a Computer of the Children's Room and wander off to find books nor stoppeth to chat with thy neighbor whom thou hast not seen in ages.  For the preschooler, contrary to what thou mightest imagine, doth not use technology intuitively and doth bang the keyboard and yanketh on the mousecord and peereth curiously at the little red light therein.  Also, the preschooler diggeth into his nose with his finger and then smeareth the mucus upon the monitor.
When thou art finished with the Computers of the Children's Room, thou shalt return thy station to good order and return the sign to the monitor, but thou shalt not turn off the monitor nor the CPU, which confuseth the next person.

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.