I was thumbing through a children's poetry book in the stacks when I heard a very loud patron ranting at the front desk. Daily interruptions are apart of my job, I'm use to this so I kept working, assuming another librarian would help the individual. As many of you know libraries bring all sorts of people together - families, tutors, people seeking jobs, students, readers, working people taking their lunch and enjoying a quiet break and people who don't have homes. Libraries are a safe place, everyone is welcome. We don't discriminate, we instruct, we research, we help, we teach and we're constantly being trained so we can administer just about any situation. Literally everything from heart attacks to people who suffer psychologically, even individuals who overdose on drugs.
It was a warm, August afternoon and there was blood, seven wounds and a knife. The man dozing in and out of consciousness was yelling that another library user was trying to kill him. I froze, my heart sank and all I could think about was that the door was five feet away, just bolt (I told myself). It was only weeks before this incident that staff had been trained for this but I was still unable to move, my eyes fixated on the back emergency exit. Through their tears a brother and sister snuck up behind me and whimpered, "Ms. Sarah there's a man with a knife." I wanted to break down, but I couldn't let these kids see me upset or that Ms. Sarah (the role model) couldn't defend them in a crisis. I quickly got as many people as I could out of the library and went looking in bathrooms and storage closets and found one more family. By the time my side of the library was evacuated, the knife had been surrendered and the attacker had been cuffed. I remember standing in front of the gentleman bleeding out thinking, this is like a friggin episode from a Crime Scene television show.
In those first five minutes, I was petrified but over the course of a four hour lock-down, I felt safe and stronger than I ever thought I was. So many friends and family called asking if we were okay, how crazy the situation was, how scary for the staff and patrons. It was all of those things, it was surreal and jolting. In moments of crisis we have two options, fight or flight. And I chose to stay! However, I can't help but think about this terrible feeling I have. Initially, I had partially lost my hearing (I'm assuming due to shock) and days after I had nightmares that were way worse than the real scenario. Walking into the library weeks after I couldn't help but feel this looming presence of something much darker.
I use to associate violence with war and in the movies, but hate and violence has become such a central part of our culture. It's seeping into every part of our lives and it's beyond terrifying when you see it firsthand. We think it will never happen to us or in our towns or at movie theaters, malls or libraries. Yet, everywhere seems to be an open target. It's present in every country on the planet. How did our world become so negative, what is happening to us? Women are banished to huts while on their periods, we're literally running people over with cars, we're blowing up our planet because we hate one another. We have marches and rallies and we think it's ok to dehumanize each other! How did we get here and how do we make it stop? I never thought I'd be living in a time and witnessing the same horrible atrocities that my parents and grandparents saw when they were my age.
How do we teach tolerance and end violence? It seems difficult (and daunting) because these ideals (of prejudice, egotism, fraudulence, and hatred) run deep in our countries veins. All you really need to do is start with one small, single step! Go out of your way to be nice. Help one person today and the next day and the next...choose to be a good person. I didn't think I could shake the feeling of being scared of what happened at my library but I started opening doors, saying good morning and buying coffee for strangers, looking people in the eye and listening instead of talking and I started feeling safe again.
(image)
It was a warm, August afternoon and there was blood, seven wounds and a knife. The man dozing in and out of consciousness was yelling that another library user was trying to kill him. I froze, my heart sank and all I could think about was that the door was five feet away, just bolt (I told myself). It was only weeks before this incident that staff had been trained for this but I was still unable to move, my eyes fixated on the back emergency exit. Through their tears a brother and sister snuck up behind me and whimpered, "Ms. Sarah there's a man with a knife." I wanted to break down, but I couldn't let these kids see me upset or that Ms. Sarah (the role model) couldn't defend them in a crisis. I quickly got as many people as I could out of the library and went looking in bathrooms and storage closets and found one more family. By the time my side of the library was evacuated, the knife had been surrendered and the attacker had been cuffed. I remember standing in front of the gentleman bleeding out thinking, this is like a friggin episode from a Crime Scene television show.
In those first five minutes, I was petrified but over the course of a four hour lock-down, I felt safe and stronger than I ever thought I was. So many friends and family called asking if we were okay, how crazy the situation was, how scary for the staff and patrons. It was all of those things, it was surreal and jolting. In moments of crisis we have two options, fight or flight. And I chose to stay! However, I can't help but think about this terrible feeling I have. Initially, I had partially lost my hearing (I'm assuming due to shock) and days after I had nightmares that were way worse than the real scenario. Walking into the library weeks after I couldn't help but feel this looming presence of something much darker.
I use to associate violence with war and in the movies, but hate and violence has become such a central part of our culture. It's seeping into every part of our lives and it's beyond terrifying when you see it firsthand. We think it will never happen to us or in our towns or at movie theaters, malls or libraries. Yet, everywhere seems to be an open target. It's present in every country on the planet. How did our world become so negative, what is happening to us? Women are banished to huts while on their periods, we're literally running people over with cars, we're blowing up our planet because we hate one another. We have marches and rallies and we think it's ok to dehumanize each other! How did we get here and how do we make it stop? I never thought I'd be living in a time and witnessing the same horrible atrocities that my parents and grandparents saw when they were my age.
How do we teach tolerance and end violence? It seems difficult (and daunting) because these ideals (of prejudice, egotism, fraudulence, and hatred) run deep in our countries veins. All you really need to do is start with one small, single step! Go out of your way to be nice. Help one person today and the next day and the next...choose to be a good person. I didn't think I could shake the feeling of being scared of what happened at my library but I started opening doors, saying good morning and buying coffee for strangers, looking people in the eye and listening instead of talking and I started feeling safe again.
(image)
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