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In the wake of the Book Riot article about the author feeling "safe" at the library during a pandemic I want to try to describe what it is like being a library worker during a pandemic using something we all understand to not always be safe.
Knives.
Knives.
Say you work in a place. You like that place. It's full of things you like and you do meaningful work at it. You're always trying to get people to understand that place is important, that it does good things, maybe you should visit if you haven't in a while?
You take care of a lot of people there who get left out or fall through the cracks. Senior citizens, brand new parents, low-income folks without access to important things, teens who need a place to be safe. It's a good place. You're happy to be part of it.
Then the knives come.
Then the knives come.
One day you go into work and everything is knives. The walls are knives. The computers are knives. Your desk is knives and so is your chair. You stand around and wait for people to acknowledge the knives. Your bosses shrug, say they know they're there. They'll get back to you.
You struggle to understand why this place is still open when EVERYTHING IS KNIVES. You have to be so careful not to get hurt. You have to be so careful not to hurt others. Doing your job doesn't seem possible anymore. When you say as much you're told you're being insubordinate.
You can do a storytime with knives, right? Make it cutlery-themed! Kids will love it!
Finally, people come to their senses and close the knifebrary. You still have to come in, though. You're not getting paid to sit and home and do you work away from the knives, you freeloader.
Finally, people come to their senses and close the knifebrary. You still have to come in, though. You're not getting paid to sit and home and do you work away from the knives, you freeloader.
The knives don't go away. People seem to just accept that they're there. People are dying from the knives, getting injured in ways that will impact them for the rest of their lives, but you're given bandannas to wear to protect you from the knives, so that's good enough.
Only it's not. You know it's not. But everyone acts like it is.
And then they reopen the knifebrary.
And then they reopen the knifebrary.
So you're back to your desk of knives in your chair of knives having to be so, so, SO careful, and here come the regulars. They're so happy. You're open! They can resume their lives! They don't seem to care that there are knives everywhere. It was always like this, right?
People coo and fawn over your reopening. You're doing such essential services! They couldn't live with curbside delivery, they have to come in and TOUCH THE KNIVES.
IT'S SO ESSENTIAL TO TOUCH THE KNIVES.
IT'S SO ESSENTIAL TO TOUCH THE KNIVES.
"Ah!" they sigh. "I feel so safe! This is such a safe, wonderful place!"
Meanwhile you heard about a person in another part of the knifebrary who cut her thumb off. Another may have lost an ear when they tripped. They're out for now so you don't know for sure. You can't ask.
Meanwhile you heard about a person in another part of the knifebrary who cut her thumb off. Another may have lost an ear when they tripped. They're out for now so you don't know for sure. You can't ask.
No one seems to understand why you're scared of your job. Look! You're one of the least likely places to get stabbed according to a billion different publications!
They don't account for people who refuse to not throw the knives, even with "knife throwing prohibited" signs.
They don't account for people who refuse to not throw the knives, even with "knife throwing prohibited" signs.
People bring their children. You see toddlers babbling at the knives.
You watch a lady in her 80s browse the knives.
You see a man on a cell phone lean on the knives during his call.
You're not sure if anyone is carrying additional knives, including your coworkers.
You watch a lady in her 80s browse the knives.
You see a man on a cell phone lean on the knives during his call.
You're not sure if anyone is carrying additional knives, including your coworkers.
Sure, they go through the cutlery check at the beginning of their shift but half the time the scanner doesn't even pick up the spoon they're carrying.
So you're sitting in your knife chair and there's no knife-away cleaner available anymore and you just have to... be there.
So you're sitting in your knife chair and there's no knife-away cleaner available anymore and you just have to... be there.
So this is why public library workers are a little... on edge about libraries being "safe."
You're browsing the knives and leaving. We sit with them. All. Day.
You're browsing the knives and leaving. We sit with them. All. Day.
