From Library Journal, 4 September 1934, by Dr. Sidney Firefly.
Dr. Sidney Firefly was born in 1892 in
Sharon, Pennsylvania. A graduate of
Columbia University's School of Library Service, Dr. Firefly is the author of
numerous library science articles as well as Muscular
Librarianship, a work which
combines elements of the novel and of a library science treatise.
Dr. Firefly was a handsome man with a striking handlebar moustache. In his
younger days he was a fireman. He worked for a number of years as a magician in
vaudeville. During WWI he was one of the army's first Information Specialists,
stationed on the Maginot Line. He was close friends with Albert Schweitzer, Annie
Oakley and Mary Pickford. He visited Gertrude Stein in Paris and met with Andrew
Carnegie at Skibo Castle in Scotland.
In 1935 Dr. Firefly walked into the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.
and never came out. The incident created a security stir that lasted for several
months. Reportedly, it was investigated by J. Edgar Hoover in person.
The following article appeared in the September 4, 1934 issue of Library
Journal. It is an extremely rare article since it has been ripped out of most
existing copies of LJ for that date. blc
When I had the pleasure of visiting Mr. Andrew Carnegie, the noted philanthropist, at his home, Skibo, in Scotland, Mr. Carnegie related a humorous anecdote which I find worthy of transmission and a valuable introduction to the present essay. "A young man carrying a violin case," narrated Mr. Carnegie, "stopped an eagle-eyed matron walking along New York's Fifth Avenue and inquired, 'Excuse me, ma'am, can you tell me how to get to Carnegie Hall?' The grande dame took in the figure of the youth and his violin case with one all-encompassing glance and said, 'PRACTICE! PRACTICE! PRACTICE!"'
The heart of library service is service. In our modern work-a-day world where we have barely the time to swallow our orange juice, impart a fare-well good-morning kiss and board our trolley or train, it is so easy for us to get lost in the hustle and bustle and lose sight of our goals and objectives. Our objective as library workers is service, service to those whom it is our occupation, our duty, our commitment to serve. But service is not a simple matter. Service is not something that comes all that naturally to us. Service is something that is learned and real success at it comes only as Mr. Carnegie's anecdote suggests--through practice. That is how we get better at anything.
We human beings are a willful lot. Our natural pride is a great inhibitor of our ability to communicate with our fellow toilers on this earth. Since the time of our infancy when all our whims and needs were catered to, our impulse is to be served rather than to serve. That is why we library workers are working in a matchless field. We are the devotees of information, the cup-bearers of knowledge, the handmaidens of wisdom. But we are nothing (worse than failures) if this information, this knowledge, this wisdom does not connect with those who seek it. Service, my friends, is the bridge between the seeker and the sought. We library workers occupy a pivotal role in this work, a work which should engage our hearts as well as our heads.
Whatever our place, whatever our duty within the universe of library work, we should approach our task with the lightest of hearts--not only for the benefit of our patrons or for the institutions for which we labor, but for our own well-being. Attitude, attitude, my friends, is everything. It makes no sense that we should grunt and groan under our labors. Neither should our spirits grunt and groan. We are not chained and yoked in the depths of a Roman galley. Neither are our spirits yoked and chained. Our spirit on the job should reflect this. Oh, for the health and well-being of a sunny disposition! It is the spirit with which we approach each and every transaction, every patron contact--whether it is in circulation, periodicals, reserves, reference or in the contact of a casual query asked in passing--that speaks loudly of who we are as individuals and of the institution which we serve. Remember that among the ancient Greeks and Romans it was commonly believed that the gods in disguise visited mortals. There is much to recommend this belief since its effect is to keep us on our toes.
It will be the purpose of this essay to examine certain maxims or principles which relate to service in general and apply them to the specific challenges of service in libraries. The author himself has benefited from organizing his thoughts and putting them on paper. And, though he hopes to share any benefit with you, his auditors and readers, he wishes to make clear that he is not preaching. Yet, if a sermon is delivered, it is I Sidney Firefly who has most to learn from its injunctions, suggestions and admonitions.
My friends, rather than keep you in suspense, let me at once list the five maxims or principles of service that I would like to examine and explore with you:
- Number one:
- Treat other people the way that you would like to be treated.
- Number two:
- It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.
- Number three:
- We are happy to see all of our patrons. Some when they come in, and some when they leave.
- Number four:
- The sage treats all people like children.
- Number five:
- That my duty should become my desire.
Let us now examine these concepts in some detail.
Number one:
Treat other
people the way that you would like to be treated. This is one of the
great moral
principles of all time. It invites you to put yourself in the position of
the other
person. You are the other person. It invites sympathy and empathy.
There is much about us human beings that remains mysterious
and unknown to
ourselves. The wellsprings of our desires and our motives are often
hidden from us.
Perhaps it is futile to seek the ultimate source of our behavior. But what is
important are our actions and our behavior. We are complex beings and yet
we are
simple. Common courtesy is becoming all too uncommon these days. As that modern
philosopher Miss Emily Post puts it, "the basis of all etiquette and manners
is not
to hurt someone's feelings." Which one of us has not suffered a cold
rebuff, a curt
impolite answer, a short and waspish cut? Remember: Treat other people
the way that
you would like to be treated. This is the basic principle of all service.
Maxim number two: It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice. This, my friends, is truly a charming little number. What is at issue here? What does it mean to, in fact, be nice? Well, the first thing that springs to mind is to be a good listener. It is amazing how many people feel in the their dealings with functionaries and officials that they are talking to a stone wall. Remember, a responsive listener will echo what the speaker has said. By doing this, the listener makes sure that she or he has heard correctly and also reassures the speaker that she or he is paying attention. It helps confirm the speaker's identity--that the speaker in fact exists and is not merely an after-lunch irritation come to annoy the listener. If you are confused by the speaker, ask for clarification. But do it in such a way that you betray no suspicion that the patron may, in fact, be an idiot. The patron has come to you for help. The patron may not wish to admit helplessness or the need for help or your position of power. But, in fact, the power is yours. You have something--whatever that something may be--that the patron needs. Use your power tenderly. Help. Don't hinder.
As well, a significant stumbling block to being nice is how to handle a brand new patron after the previous patron has proven to be truly unpleasant in the extreme. You have been frazzled by an individual who obviously whips his dog and this individual has just run You through the wringer. Quash the spread of those evil vibrations let loose upon you--right then and there. Do not perpetuate on the next patron the ill humor that the previous patron has bequeathed to you. Put a halt to it. Take a moment to calm yourself. Take a deep breath. Think upon someone dearly beloved to recall you to a pleasanter mood. In short, don't let one unpleasant patron poison your interactions with other patrons. As difficult as it may be to remember: everyone is different. So that's why it's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.
Maxim number three: We are happy to see all of our patrons. Some when they come in, and some when they leave. It is perfectly natural not to like everyone. It is perfectly normal to take an instant dislike to someone--even for no obvious reason. What is important, however, is that one's dislikes should not cause service to deteriorate. The unlovely patron is every bit as much our responsibility as the patron with the mellifluous voice or charming attitude. The so-called problem patron may have been a problem all their lives. The unpleasantness of such people is not yours to remedy in your brief encounter. Simply listen...listen to the patron's gripe. Assess if it is real and legitimate. Calm the patron down. Assure the patron that you understand. If the patron feels that they have been slighted by you in some way, do not debate. Apologize. If the patron is quite wrong, yours is then the moral high ground. You have lost nothing. If the patron is right, well then the patron is right. Assure the patron that his or her complaint will receive proper attention. Take the patron's name and 'phone number. After the patron has left, follow through, always follow through.
Do not reinforce or approve negative comments made by patrons about fellow employees. Just listen for the meat of the patron's complaint. Avoid personal attacks. A simple remark like "I'm sorry this happened," might soothe ruffled feathers. If the patron appears quite crazed, proffering such remarks as "The blueberry pies don't have as many wings as they used to now, do they?" then try to get and keep the patron back on track with such a stabilizing remark as: "I'm not quite sure I know what you mean. Can I help you find a particular magazine?" Always keep to the point.
In my own library experience, there have been a number of library patrons whom I have come to hate. Some of their behaviors may be familiar to you: for example, the library patron who, within three minutes, has succeeded in getting 15 staff members working for him or her. The library patron who seems unutterably helpless and expects you to attend upon them hand and foot. The library patron who interrupts your conversation to say that they have only one short question which, it turns out, leads to several other questions, all of which are attached to one another. The library patron who asks a question and then cannot wait for an answer. The library patron who thinks outloud and is a regular ball of confusion, scrambling the brain waves of even the most experienced staff member. I am certain, my friends, that you can supplement this list from your own experience.
The point though, my friends, is, as difficult as such patrons may be to deal with, deal with them we must. After all, we are not married to these folks. We are providing a service for which we are being paid and a service which, in many cases, the patron is paying for! So, although you provide helpful and polite and thorough service, your ties to the patron are limited. Remember: We are happy to see all of our patrons. Some when they come in, and some when they leave. It is only human to feel so.
Maxim number four: The sage treats all people like children. Here is some
wisdom from the Far East. What are the benefits of treating people like children?
Are we not, in fact, all children? Who are the adults? The adults, I suggest, are
those who know how to treat and to treat well those who are not adults.
What is involved in treating people like children? Above all, it is showing
patience. Patience, patience, patience, patience, patience, patience. Your own fuse
must never be too short. Further, don't assume they know anything. Listen carefully
to get a sense of what they do know. Answer their questions seriously: do not make
light of them or ignore them. When a situation is difficult, you must take the
initiative to get them out of it. If the situation is dangerous, intervene. If the
situation is not dangerous, let them figure their way out. This applies readily to
all the new-fangled machinery that is presently making in-roads into libraries. Do
not confuse patrons by joking around--unless you are really good at it. Try to be
nice--even if they are not nice to you. "The mind makes wrinkles at a frown." *
Remember: The sage treats all people like children. Nothing and no one falls through
the cracks.
And finally, maxim number five: That my duty should become my desire. Oh for that glorious condition, my friends, where what you must do is what you indeed most want to do. And vice versa: where what you most want to do is what, perforce, you must do. Certainly this must approach being at peace with one's self and would seem to guarantee the highest and most complete form of service. My friends, it is a condition that I strive for. It is a state of grace to which I aspire, but certainly one which I have not yet attained. Every day in every way, I find that there remains a deep divide between the ambition and the reality. But also, perhaps, every day in every way I am getting better and better. Only time will tell. Only time will tell. With dwindling materials budgets being experienced by many institutions, often the biggest budgetary investment is in salaries. We library workers must learn that, in many respects, we ARE the library. In our helpfulness, in our resourcefulness, in our cooperative endeavour to make the institution not only survive but prevail, our service attitude is the advance guard. Seek that duty should become synonymous with desire.
I have been speaking theoretically and philosophically. Let me now give you a dramatic visual illustration of my theory of service. In the new and startlingly imaginative branch of mathematics, known as topology, it is claimed that what is on the inside is actually on the outside and not at all on the inside.** It is the same with our attitudes.
Ladies and gentlemen:
[At this point in the presentation, Dr. Firefly would proceed to remove his vest without taking off his jacket. Dr. Firefly would usually perform this stunt with whatever musical accompaniment was available--often recruiting someone from the audience to simply play the kazoo.
He begins by unbottoning his jacket and then his vest. He slides his right hand and his still-jacketed right elbow and his whole right arm through the right arm-hole of his vest. He then peels the vest from his right side to his left along his back, feeding his jacket through the vest's right arm-hole, proceeding to his left side and then gingerly, so as not to rip his vest, pulling his left elbow through the right arm-hole of the vest. At this point the vest is only "attached" to him on his left shoulder. The vest is then stuffed into the upper opening of his jacket's left sleeve, stuffed and pushed down along his left arm towards his left hand until with the fingers of his right hand he can reach the vest now fully-stuffed into his jacket's left sleeve from the opening of the left sleeve. Grasping the vest with his right hand, he pulls it out of the jacket's sleeve and--Voila!
To the applause, admiration and sometimes the looks of disapproval from his audience Dr. Firefly would acknowledge their hoots and clapping by the breathless admonishment:]
Attitude, ladies and gentlemen, attitude is everything.
In conclusion, let me say that I am a firm believer in democratic
principles. I have faith in the individual on both sides of the
library service transaction, the one served and the one who provides
the service.
In parting, allow me to leave you with the words of my friend and
mentor, the great keeper of books, Lawrence Clark Powell, who once
said, "books are basic, and people are good. To work with them both
is the best of all lives. [One's goal should be to speak] with inner
or outer voice and [say]: 'This work with books and people
is the best of all work--I do it because I love it--and want to go on
doing it until I die.'"
Thank you.
* Michael McClure.
** This trick,
uncredited to Dr. Firefly, appears in:
David Bergamini and the Editors of Life,
Mathematics (New York: Time Incorporated, 1963.) p. 179.