Why I don’t give to the library foundation
Tuesday, 5 January 2021 09:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
carose59In A Time Of Universal Deceit, Telling The Truth Is A Revolutionary Act.*
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I love the library as much as the next book addict. I love books, I love reading, I love the concept of libraries: free places you can get information and entertainment and mind-broadening ideas for free. It seems almost too good to be true.
I love libraries in general and the Indianapolis-Marion County Public Library system in particular.
I love that we give people the benefit of the doubt with regards to overdues: if you return an item after the library closes, when the library opens and we check it in, we count it as returned on the previous day. (This is not how utility companies around here work.)
I love that we will buy obscure things people request for purchase.
I love that we consider part of our mission to give shelter to the homeless.
I love the library and I always have and I hope I always do.
But I do not believe the library loves me.
There is a constant struggle between the big deal big wheels and us, the cogs in that wheel, and it’s a struggle for survival on our side and luxury on theirs. We’re assumed incompetent until proven otherwise, and treated (and paid) as such no matter what we do. And the proof is based on arbitrary standards and impossible demands.
The library is run incompetently because the big deal big wheels never consider step two when they have an idea. The library is run inefficiently because we’ve bought into the instant gratification lie. The library is run badly because there is no oversight for those at the top. Things someone at my level would be fired for, managers are given raises for.
The relationship between the library and me is dysfunctional; I love it a whole lot more than it loves me. It’s like being married to an alcoholic: I have to keep telling myself the library has a sickness, and the sickness is power and greed. My library is more open-hearted and open-handed. My library doesn’t want me to starve, even if those in charge wouldn’t bat an eye if they saw me doing just that.
As far as I’m concerned, any contribution I would make, the library already has in the form of money they will not give me because the big deal big wheels are keeping it for themselves. For me to give more is nothing more than handing an alcoholic a bottle of scotch. Throughout our long relationship, the library is the one who has, time and again, acted in bad faith. It now needs to prove it deserves my money—and then pay it to me—before I will contribute a dime.
*George Orwell
-:- -:- -:- -:-
I love the library as much as the next book addict. I love books, I love reading, I love the concept of libraries: free places you can get information and entertainment and mind-broadening ideas for free. It seems almost too good to be true.
I love libraries in general and the Indianapolis-Marion County Public Library system in particular.
I love that we give people the benefit of the doubt with regards to overdues: if you return an item after the library closes, when the library opens and we check it in, we count it as returned on the previous day. (This is not how utility companies around here work.)
I love that we will buy obscure things people request for purchase.
I love that we consider part of our mission to give shelter to the homeless.
I love the library and I always have and I hope I always do.
But I do not believe the library loves me.
There is a constant struggle between the big deal big wheels and us, the cogs in that wheel, and it’s a struggle for survival on our side and luxury on theirs. We’re assumed incompetent until proven otherwise, and treated (and paid) as such no matter what we do. And the proof is based on arbitrary standards and impossible demands.
The library is run incompetently because the big deal big wheels never consider step two when they have an idea. The library is run inefficiently because we’ve bought into the instant gratification lie. The library is run badly because there is no oversight for those at the top. Things someone at my level would be fired for, managers are given raises for.
The relationship between the library and me is dysfunctional; I love it a whole lot more than it loves me. It’s like being married to an alcoholic: I have to keep telling myself the library has a sickness, and the sickness is power and greed. My library is more open-hearted and open-handed. My library doesn’t want me to starve, even if those in charge wouldn’t bat an eye if they saw me doing just that.
As far as I’m concerned, any contribution I would make, the library already has in the form of money they will not give me because the big deal big wheels are keeping it for themselves. For me to give more is nothing more than handing an alcoholic a bottle of scotch. Throughout our long relationship, the library is the one who has, time and again, acted in bad faith. It now needs to prove it deserves my money—and then pay it to me—before I will contribute a dime.
*George Orwell