I titled this entry just "Joey" because the story I want to share is the story of a real little boy, one with a name, with friends, and with a chance, if someone will give it to him. This is not really my story to tell, so I'm just going to explain why I'm asking you to read the story directly from Joey's mom and hope you let her tell you the story.For a few months now, a friend has been introducing me to Joey through her boys' friendship with him--how complicated insurance is, how generous people have been with donating to Joey's medical expenses, how much Joey loved his birthday party (which I helped cut out Minecraft shapes for, just so you know) even though he was incredibly tired that day. In many ways, Joey is like most fourth grade boys, loving origami, Boy Scouts, and reading. But last year, Joey was diagnosed with cancer, and he needs access to a new line of drugs that are about the only thing left that might make a difference.
Below is an email from my friend with links to the blog his mom keeps and the petition requesting that one of the drug companies allow compassionate use of these drugs. I'd be so grateful if you'd take a moment to read his story and consider adding your name to those asking these companies to show that they can be human as well.
Today a friend started a petition on change.org to try to pressure the drug companies to allow Joey to at least try the new medication that shows so much promise. Please sign the petition and forward it on to others. The more public support we get, the more pressure is put on the drug companies.
More information about Joey and his journey is available at teamjoeyx.blogspot.com or https://www.facebook.com/teamjoeyxu
Here is the link to the petition: http://www.change.org/petitions/genentech-please-grant-10-year-old-juntao-joey-xu-compassionate-use-of-your-anti-pd-1-l1-immunotherapy-drug-he-has-exhausted-all-other-options-and-cannot-wait-for-pediatric-trials-to-begin?recruiter=89789658&utm_campaign=signature_receipt&utm_medium=email&utm_source=share_petition#supporters
And if you know someone who might be interested in Joey's story or want to add their name to the petition, please feel free to forward them the information!
Last week was Royalty Week at the library. What does this mean? I have no idea, except that the children's staff was celebrating it, and those children's folks know how to have fun.
"Royalty week?" I inquired, perking up from whatever work I was doing at the time. "I have a tiara! Can I wear my tiara? Would it help if I wore my tiara?" Seeing a few raised eyebrows, I backtracked a bit. "You know, to support the children's department?"
Luckily, I had a cohort in my attempt to be treated as a princess. Or a queen. Whatever. My co-worker, Suzi, gasped in amazement. "I have a tiara, too!" she declared, adding "We absolutely have to wear our tiaras for the rest of the week." Or maybe I added that part.
Either way, the next morning, I grabbed my tiara. It really didn't matter whether or not it went with what I was wearing. Tiaras go with everything. I put it on and headed out the door. Only when I knocked it off ducking into the car did it occur to me that it might look odd for someone to be driving down the road with a tiara on, and perhaps I should wait until I was actually in the library to begin my reign. Not that it bothered me, but I didn't want to cause some unsuspecting driver to have an accident.
I got lots of smiles as I moved through my day. What is it about a tiara that makes one feel pretty, special, well, royal? You stand a little straighter, speak with a little more self-assurance, hold your head a little higher. Surely you must be beautiful if you're wearing a tiara, so we behave with a renewed sense of self-respect. And aren't these things we should all do, every day, with or without a tiara?
Funny thing about wearing tiaras, and that's how quickly you forget that you are wearing one. Which explains why I walked into a a meeting of the library's governing board with the tiara still on my head. Maybe it was the tiara that got me noticed by the board chair, starting his meeting by saying to the group "I see we're in the presence of royalty today" and grinning at me. Or maybe it was the fact that I was standing taller, smiling wider, and walking with poise.
And maybe, we don't even need tiaras to see ourselves as beautiful, confident, worthwhile, unique people. But they never hurt.
A staff development or training day is fairly common in public libraries. It's often something like an "all staff" meeting and usually includes some sort of professional development component with speakers and workshops and, in some unfortunate cases, flip chart paper with colored dots. It can be difficult to get everyone together when you're keeping multiple locations open to the public, so this a staff day is frequently the only opportunity available for getting to know co-workers from other branches or providing information to everyone at once. Last month, my library held it's first staff development day in about twelve years.
As seems to be the case with many things in my life, I hadn't intended to get quite so involved. I'm never sure exactly how it happens. I have every intention of just "consulting" or "helping out," but before I know it, I'm in over my head. Sadly, by the time I figure out how that happens, I probably will truly be in over my head. Literally. So, when my boss said she'd like me to sit in on the committee charged with putting this day together, I had visions of telling other people to do things and then sitting back and taking the credit. Everybody's got to have a hobby.
In case you haven't figured out where this is going, that's not how it worked out. I tend to be either all in or all out. I had ideas. I knew people who would be just right for a project. I'd been in a staff day before where we tried that. Quick as a lightning bug (if you don't know how quick that is, you don't live south of the Mason-Dixon), I found myself planning several programs and coaching several staff members who were planning their own. I loved it and had great fun, but I'm going to need a few lifetimes before I have the energy to do that again.
Not that it wasn't worth it. Over the course of only three months, we planned an amazing day. No one who reads here will be surprised to hear that my favorite program was the book buzz I planned. Or buzzes, as there turned out to be three of them. I was able to get representatives from three of the largest publishers in the country to come talk to staff about upcoming books and get them excited about reading in general. This was great fun for me, and I truly could have just listened to these folks talk all day. But in addition to that, I planned a program to promote our music and movie collections by having staff from a local theater and radio group to come in. I got in touch with one of our vendors and arranged for a well-know audio book narrator come speak to all staff for the closing session. AND I planned a program meant to revolve around science fiction and fantasy genres as seen by a local author. Oh, well, there's a story.
I was panicking a little. Staff day was only a few weeks away, and I still didn't know what this science fiction and fantasy program was going to look like. At this point, I was open to anything. I chose the topic because it's not something I read myself, anyone asking me for recommendations in this area strikes fear in my heart, so it seemed like a good subject to learn more about. But where in the world was I supposed to find someone? I started sending out a bunch of emails asking if there was interest out there, mostly to local authors who had done some self-publishing or reading in this area. My inbox remained empty (well, not really, but at least it wasn't full of responses to my call for help). Someone finally suggested I ask a co-worker known for reading in this area for help. It was like the clouds parted.
"I haven't even been able to reach this author," I explained, pointing to a name in my notebook. "He's self-published, but he seems to have made a good name for himself around here. His emails keep bouncing back to me with a bad address!" I slammed the notebook in exasperation.
My colleague waved her hand. "Oh, I'm Facebook friends with him," she dismissed me quickly. "I'll send him a message and ask if he'd come speak for us."
Having recovered from my heart attack, I told her that the one person I hadn't tried to contact was a rather well-known author who happened to be local and who'd been venturing into fantasy. It would be quite a coup, and I hadn't thought I really had a shot. She encouraged me to go for it, and so I dashed off an email asking if he'd be willing to participate in some way. I described my thoughts of talking about the genres, making recommendations for reading, maybe talking about the publishing process in this genre. Imagine my surprise when I got almost an immediate reply asking for the date. Yes, I'd managed to email this practically-famous author and forget to include the date of the event. I sent it off to him, told him we'd love to work with him if possible, and asked my co-worker to take over the negotiations. It was a week before we got a confirmation that he could attend; meanwhile, the author my co-worker contacted via Facebook had also come through. How exciting--two very different people with different perspectives. Great! So we thought. Until about a week ahead of the event, when the major author's wife emailed to say that there must have been a "misunderstanding" and that the author couldn't possibly sit on a panel with a self-published author--she was sure we understood obligations to his publisher. It was incredibly disappointing, in great part because of the tone of this woman's email. It's almost certain that this author's publisher would not have had a problem with this. He didn't confirm acceptance right away, so yes, we agreed to another author and could only be excited at the thought of multiple points of view for our staff. We gave him some ideas of what we had in mind but let him know we were totally open to what kind of program this could be. Never did he get back to us and say anything like "here's what I'd like to do" or "here's what I'd need to be able to do this." While I sort of understand it, to actually pull out of an accepted invitation to speak to about 40 staff members at your LOCAL PUBLIC LIBRARY for about 45 minutes is just not very nice. He (or his wife) lost an opportunity to get staff to talk up his books to patrons.
I guess I'm still bitter.
But the day arrived, and the committee had put together a really fantastic program. Against all odds, we managed to get funding for a light breakfast, lunch, and snacks for the staff so they could take their break times to network with their co-workers instead of seeking sustenance. One staff member had put together an amazing slide show of pictures of staff and programs from all locations. It played all day, and it was a great gathering point for staff before the day started and between workshops. A few staff members read tarot cards during the morning "meet and greet" as a bit of a low-key ice breaker. We had a couple of very impressive speakers to discuss various aspects of customer service, and our opening session involved bananas, Fiji, and a speaker in Bermuda shorts. What else could you want?
Books, of course. Lots and lots of books. The publisher reps coming to buzz about upcoming titles had a ton of galleys to share, and they did a fantastic job of getting staff excited about the books they were reading. The comments we received in the evaluations staff completed the next day confirmed that staff love getting books and tote bags.
Other workshop options were endless. There was training on the human resources used by supervisors and on tips and tricks for using the library's database and circulation software. There were hands on sessions for getting into "computer guts" and hand held reading devices. We had several sessions on the psychology behind providing excellent customer service, even to unusual patrons...even to unusual coworkers! One speaker spoke to interview skills. A couple of children's department staff members, recently back from a workshop on face painting and balloon animals, shared their new-found skills with programmers looking for new ideas, alongside a storytelling session led by some retired staff members and a representative of a local storytelling group. Our county provided a speaker from the folks running our retirement plans on financial planning and investing. Even the staff in facilities had some sessions aimed directly at them with training in basic Excel and energy management. We really could not have asked for a better selection of programs.
At the end of the day, we all came back together for what might have been most staff members' favorite speaker, the audio book narrator. He offered a great combination of information about the production and narrating of one of our most popular material formats and humor...they were rolling in the aisles. The great thing was that this was something that could appeal to almost everyone. The narrator works primarily with children's books, though he's done adult titles as well, so he'd had experiences that were familiar to all of us. We learned lots of insider info that we could share with our audio book listeners. And with the exception of one staff member who later said he didn't enjoy the narrator's sense of humor, all the feedback indicated they found him hysterically funny. It was a great way to end the day on a positive note.
The evaluations came in, and the response was great. For the most part, everyone enjoyed the day, felt they learned something, reconnected with staff they don't see often, and had a good time. Some of the evaluation comments were entertaining:
I think I can now work with my co-workers.
I didn't understand how lunch worked.
Free stuff!
He's so sexy!
I liked the lady who read the Hello, Kitty! book.
He's so fluffy I'm gonna die! (Okay, that's actually a quote from Despicable Me 2, but it makes me laugh every time I hear it)
Even the critiques were fair and helpful, and we've got some good ideas about where to improve next time.
Wait, there's going to be a next time?
