This morning at the reference desk, something happened that in my experience is unprecedented: the phone rang. In my training, in fact, my supervisor told me, “the phone’s not going to ring, but if it rings, answer it.” And so I answered it. On the other end was a very nice older lady looking for a specific four-part documentary. She had watched the first part of this documentary with a group of friends and was looking for parts two through four. She had tried in vain to search at the Northfield Public Library, Half Price Books, and Barnes & Noble, and now she had turned to Gould Library.
I asked her to wait while I conducted a search of our materials, explaining my process as I went in order to keep the conversation going and make the wait seem more pleasant.
“We don’t have it here at Carleton, but it looks like they do have it over at the St. Olaf library,” I told her.
She thanked me and asked, “do you know how long they’re open?”
“Well, let’s take a look,” I responded as I opened a new tab in Safari and looked for their hours. Since spring break is still going on over there, the hours are limited. “Looks like they closed at 4,” I broke the news, “so you just missed them.”
“Oh, that’s okay. Does it say about tomorrow?”
To my delight, I saw that today was indeed the last day of spring break, and that regular hours resume tomorrow. “Tomorrow they’re open until midnight,” I told her, “but the hours might be different for community members. I know that at the Carleton library community members can’t get in after 8. Do you think you’ll be able to make it over before then?”
“Oh yes,” she assured me, “that won’t be a problem.”
“Perfect!” I responded. “Then you can just go right up to their circulation desk and ask.”
“Thank you,” she replied, “and do you know if there’s a way to get in that isn’t that main entrance?”
This was a new type of question for me. I’ve gotten questions about library hours (albeit not St. Olaf’s library hours) and plenty of questions about materials (though never, I believe, about DVDs), but no one had ever asked me about the physical entrances to another school’s library. Still, though, she had asked me the question, and I wanted to give her the best answer I could.
“Ooh, I’m not sure. The main entrance is through their commons, right? Yeah, I can see that being inconvenient. Here, let me see if I can find anything.” At this point I was deviating from my training, which had never given me guidance on this type of query. Still I forged ahead: “Let’s head on over to Google Maps.”
While I searched, the kindly patron told me a little bit more about her situation. She didn’t have any streaming services, she told me, and “there’s just so much more you have to pay for when you’re a senior citizen.”
After a commiserative “mmm,” I shared the result of my Google Maps search: “I can’t tell from the map where the entrances might be.”
“That’s okay,” she responded, “yeah, I don’t have internet, and it’s just getting so expensive nowadays.”
“Oh, I know,” I replied, “but I don’t think libraries are going anywhere, so it’s nice to know you’ll always have this resource, right?”
“Thank you,” she replied. “My name is [her name, which I won’t use to protect her privacy]; what’s your name?”
“My name is Ben,” I answered with a smile that I hope came across through the phone.
“Well, thank you, sir,” she said, making me laugh internally by addressing me as “sir.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything else.”
The call ended.
Even though the call lasted no more than ten minutes, there are many moments that bring me joy. The mere fact that someone would still call the reference desk to get information about a title means that we mean something to the community. Her immense gratitude for me having stuck with her through the search process reminds me why it’s great to be a reference intern even when most of my time at the desk is spent doing homework and unjamming the printer. That we were one of the first places she turned for a low-price option and that we were actually able to provide her the title she wanted is everything that’s great about an academic library’s relationship with the community. My desire to keep helping her, even to the extent of trying to find alternative entrances to another school’s library, reinforces to me one of the main reasons to become a librarian—to make patrons feel heard, helped, and welcome with any needs they might have. The list goes on. For now, I’m glad to be a reference intern because all of my reading about customer service, all of my practice answering reference queries about research paper topics and paywalls, all of my hours sitting at the desk, sometimes lead me to places as unexpected and wonderful as this: helping a nice older lady find the next installment of a documentary to watch with her friends.