Latest news with #librarian
The Guardian
15-06-2025
- General
- The Guardian
Flipping the bird at an old man wasn't exactly in my playbook. It felt like a rupture
Here's a scene: I'm at a library on the outskirts of Melbourne. I'm 'in conversation' with a librarian. It's not possible to keep those words out of scare quotes, not if you're aware of the small and faulty machine that keeps Australian book publicity moving. What I am doing is being asked generous, kind, eminently answerable questions about my new book so that I can move a few units. It's a 'conversation' I'm grateful for because I like moving units and I like talking to librarians and, let's be real, I also like talking about myself. The crowd, including several Melbourne friends, is attentive and also kind and generous. What could go wrong? Libraries are safe spaces, temporary haven for kids and their parents, rough sleepers and the lonely, and people who a millennial friend describes as neurospicy. I love libraries. They're full of readers and I love them too. So, this library is a safe space. The warm murmur of people, some of them sitting on the carpet in the aisles, disappeared into words. The big windows looking on to a lake, giving light to the pages. I'm glad to be there. The crowd (the 'crowd') includes a couple of men, one in his possibly late 60s, one in his possibly late 70s. The first listens and smiles; the second stands at the back of the room to one side. He is very clearly someone who doesn't know who I am and doesn't care, but neither do I – he's there and I'm grateful. At the end of the conversation there are a few questions, some carefully crafted by writing friends who know that the terrible silence that follows 'does anyone have a question?' is a lonely place. Then the older man puts up his hand and the microphone is handed to him. Then he starts a long story about his long life, and I let him talk because I get it. I mean, I just talked about myself; have at it, buddy. It's not surprising to me that what he says has absolutely nothing to do with my book. I wait, not for him to finish, but for a couple of minutes of monologue to pass, and then I say something like, it's clear that the past is vivid for all of us. That's why I've written about it. Afterwards there's a signing line. The two men are there. The older stands to one side of the desk I'm sitting at, as though we're friends and he has more special things to say just to me. He doesn't need to buy a book. The other man steps in front of a woman and her child waiting for me to sign their copy and I say, actually, you've pushed in – can you wait at the back of the line? I don't say, you dick, but I think it. When he gets to the front of the line he tells me a pretty engaging story about his past, and then he goes away without having bought a book. I'm on my way out, getting my bag, chatting to the librarian, who's smart and warm and kind, and has worn herself out talking about me. The older man is still there and he's saying, can I have a photo? I've had my photo taken an inordinate number of times in the last 24 hours and I haven't enjoyed it. I'm in my late 50s and I haven't yet reconciled myself to the way I look. The person I now appear to be, heavier, with a lined face and teeth I don't like, isn't someone I want to know about. I know, my bad – I should love my older self. So, partly because I'm sick of it but mostly because this bloke only wants a photo as an extension of the attention he craves, I say no. I point to the big photo of me on the screen, taken several years ago, and say, you can take a photo of that. I'm turning away as he says you looked better with long hair. Without warning – to me or anyone around me – I'm swinging back round to face him and I'm giving him the finger. Then I'm saying, a hot flush surging across my body and face: You don't get to talk to women like that. You can't speak to me like that. I catch a glimpse of the librarian's face – tears have sprung to her eyes. I see my young publicist, who's holding my bag and stepping between me and the old man. She ushers me away and I can hear the man protesting or saying something, whatever it is, something about me, something about himself. I don't look back as Jasmine and I step outside into the bright autumn air and hurry towards our taxi. So many things to say about this. First, that flipping the bird at an old man wasn't exactly in my playbook – not at any time and especially not when I'm trying to sell books. But also, flipping the bird wasn't something I wanted to be doing. Not because it's rude, but because it felt like a rupture, a violation – of me, not of him. A thousand times I've tolerated and even, sometimes, welcomed comments on my appearance. A thousand times I've stood, politely rigid, while a man tells me about himself. This usually happens when it's me who's meant to be the focus. Some men – not all of them – subconsciously hate this and need to remind themselves that they exist by telling me about themselves. I've learned now to civilly stop them, or even point out to them what they're up to, but I've never made a rude gesture, because control over a situation like this is what I want and need. Women learn this control young, and practise it – or fail to practise it – throughout their lives, because the comments and the monologues never stop coming. But as it turns out there's some ghost chilli in my own spice mix. I wanted to say to that man: do you think I'm not looking at you? Do you think I didn't notice that you looked like a praying mantis, frail and savage, wobbling away in the corner of my vision, waiting to do something nasty? You're old too, dickhead. And you probably looked better when you had all your hair. The rupture came because the abyss below it was already there. But the concealment of that abyss, where self-doubt lives (self-doubt about my looks, and even about my intelligence) is my safe space. It's my choice to stand guard over it and repel people with thoughtful, firm, clear words. It made me feel shaky and hurt when I gave him the finger. I hope it gave him a shock and I hope it hurt him too, and I don't regret it. I just don't like it when men make me lose my cool, because it's my fucking cool. Tegan Bennett Daylight is a 56-year-old teacher, critic and writer of novels, including How to Survive 1985
RNZ News
12-06-2025
- General
- RNZ News
Closing the book on a 50-year library legacy
Jill Watson has been happy in her work at the library for 50 years. Photo: LDR/Supplied Ashburton has undergone huge change since 1975, with six mayors and countless councillors, but always one constant - the librarian. Jill Watson admits "1975 feels a long time ago". She is set to retire on August 8 after five decades at the Ashburton Library. It's rare someone stays in a role for so long, but it's easy to see why Jill stayed so long - she simply loves the job. "It's been marvellous and just the greatest job. "It's one of the best-kept secrets as far as jobs go. It just hasn't felt hard. "And working with people who have been terrific and put up with a lot from me." She can't have been that bad as she lasted 50 years, and a number of the staff have chalked up multiple decades as well - including Nicky Farrell who has worked under Jill for 45 years. Jill joked: "It was the only library in town so where could they run to?" She moved to Ashburton "for a boy" after starting her career at the Christchurch City Library. While the boyfriend didn't last long, she ended up staying in the job she loved for half a century. A young Jill (sixth from the left) in the early days of her career at the Ashburton Library. Photo: LDR/Supplied Jill couldn't recall her first day back in 1975, where she start in the children's library. "We were the centre for the school library service. They would send boxes of books down and the schools would come in for their collections." After almost three years, she stepped up to the role of library manager at the age of 23. When she started the former library building was only eight years old and considered to be an "extremely modern and forward-thinking library". The old building had been renovated as a millennium project which "gave the whole place a new lease of life and made it more pleasant". Twenty years and some earthquake damage later, it had lost its lustre and "leaked like a sieve". Retirement had crossed Jill's mind but she couldn't leave with the new library on the horizon and the lure of a new bright and vibrant space that is "two-and-a-half times the size". "I wanted to be part of the move and make sure we could offer the modern services and programmes that were right for this building." During the planning phase for Te Whare Whakatere, Jill said she never expected the community to tell the council to build the bigger, more expensive option. After a year-and-a-half in the new $62.1m library and civic centre, Jill believes it was worth it as the place is buzzing. The new building sparked a doubling of visitor numbers and pushed up borrowing rates. She said one of the best things about the new library is they have built lots of nooks and crannies. "You can find a chair in a corner that will be perfectly quiet and just look at the window. "I've got my favourite spot sorted, on the second floor overlooking Baring Square, hopefully catching a glimpse of the snow on the mountains." Jill (front left) with the other library staff shortly after she became library manager. Photo: LDR/Supplied Technology has come a long way since 1975 and Jill has witnessed it all. Libraries have moved from using cards to computer systems, which didn't come naturally for the library leader, who is "not really a techy person". "I hit the period where computers just started working out, and I would have quite happily missed it. "I was pretty happy with the old gooseneck stamp. "But it was all very labour intensive, so it probably is much better these days." A library is no longer just a building full of books, she said. "I prefer to see it as not only a big building full of books but something else." It offered magazines, then videos, cassettes, and DVDs and now eBooks and internet access, but "people still mostly come for books". Ashburton Library also offers a long list of diverse programmes and learning opportunities, the result of a "staff that overachieves on you". The days of a librarian shushing people are also long gone, she said. The new library, Te Kete Tuhinga, is a busy space with people constantly buzzing about - a far cry from the low point of Covid when the old downtrodden library was empty and the patronage was slow to return post-lockdowns. One of the hardest parts of the job was when a previous council introduced fees, including a per-book charge, she said. The fees and fines have been phased out over time making the library more accessible, and much to Jill's delight the last of those - a reservation fee - was removed this year. Jill's monumental milestone was marked at the recent council meeting where people and facilities group manager Sarah Mosley said 50 years of service was "hard to fathom". "[Jill's] dedication and passion has left an indelible mark on the Ashburton community". "Your 50 years' service is a testament to your unwavering commitment and your love of the work you do". Mosely said Jill has "always been careful with council's money, however at the same time is an expert at spending it". Jill joked later that if she had been a wasteful spender, they might have noticed before she reached 50 years. She will leave some big shoes to fill, and Jill would know as the avid shopper converted a bedroom in her farmhouse into a walk-in wardrobe that houses quite the shoe collection - something Mosley quipped could feature in Ashburton's museum and art gallery one day. The council was reasonably confident no other employee has ever served as long as her but the old records aren't reliable enough to confirm it. Jill couldn't recall anyone coming close to her five-decade tenure. Not one to stand idle, Jill has plenty to keep her busy but is looking forward to one of the perks of retirement. "One of the things I've looked forward to for years is getting out on frosty days at about 10am instead of 7:30am, and then getting inside to light the fire at 4:30pm instead of coming home in the dark to a cold house." Retirement holds more time on her small farm at Chertsey with some sheep and "a bit of a garden". "I'm looking at one of those robots that now the lawns because it's my least favourite part of living there." She breeds and shows dogs - norwich terriers. One of them is a well-known figure, with Riffraff the children's reading dog at the library for several years but now retired. Jill and her dog Riff Raff in the children's library. Photo: LDR/Supplied Jill said she plans to continue to spend the summers travelling to dog shows in her caravan. "I think I will still be very busy. "I've also got a pile of books I've been meaning to read." Unsurprisingly, the long-serving librarian loves to read. "My memory is not what it used to be so I could read a book three times but I've never been that good at remembering storylines. "I enjoy audiobooks. I do a lot of gardening and work around the farm which is tedious so you can just listen to something else - it's a different way of reading." Jill couldn't stop smiling on the opening day of the new library, Te Kete Tuhinga, when Te Whare Whakatere opened to the public on January 22, 2024. Photo: JONATHAN LEASK/LDR LDR is local body journalism co-funded by RNZ and NZ On Air.
News.com.au
03-06-2025
- General
- News.com.au
‘I knew it': Sign 28yo had ‘aggressive' cancer
An Australian woman who was diagnosed with aggressive cancer at the age of just 28 has revealed the symptom that ultimately tipped her off that something was not quite right. Sam Bulloch, now 30, began to notice some bleeding when she went to the toilet — something that she put down to haemorrhoids. But, two years ago, her bathroom habits — such as a change in how many times she needed to use the restroom — made her stop and think. Ms Bulloch realised she wasn't eating as best she could as she had just switched careers and was a busy new librarian, often opting for quick and easy, cheap meals, so she put it down to the changes in her diet. But it was Ms Bulloch's depleted energy levels that eventually made her see a doctor, thinking she was having issues with her iron levels and even possibly anaemia — which had happened previously. It got to the point where the young librarian couldn't walk up a flight of stairs without being puffed. A GP sent her off for a blood test and an ultrasound, also under the belief that it could be to do with her iron levels. But when a tumour was found in Ms Bulloch's colon — as well as spots on her liver and lungs — doctors discovered she had stage 4 colon cancer. 'My first reaction was, 'I knew it. When I started Googling after the ultrasound, when things started to get serious, I knew something was wrong,' she told Ms Bulloch said it prompted her to look back at her health history, and she realised the blood she found when she went to the bathroom likely wasn't haemorrhoids as she initially suspected. 'When I found out it was cancer, my mind when to the worst place possible. And, just because it was so advanced at the time it was found, I just didn't have a lot of hope, to be honest.' It wasn't Ms Bulloch's first brush with a deadly cancer. Two decades prior to her diagnosis, the then 28-year-old's mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. 'There's a lot that I don't remember from most of it, and by that I just mean life felt quite normal all things considered,' she said. Looking back, Ms Bulloch said she is now in shock and awe at how her mother handled breast cancer with such grace. Eventually, it spread to her lungs and her brain. 'I do remember when she started to decline, and I feel like that's what sticks in my mind the most — just watching her get sicker and sicker,' she recalled. 'I think the hardest part was just watching her change and not feel herself. Towards the end, it was impacting her speech and cognitive function. She just didn't feel like the mum I knew in those last months.' It was this knowledge of how brutal chemotherapy could be that scared Ms Bulloch, as she'd had a front-row seat to her mum's decline. With cancer such as Ms Bulloch's, there was a few lines of standardised treatment. This includes two types of chemotherapy, with the third being to combine the two treatments for a more aggressive approach. She started off with a specific chemotherapy regime, and after doing some genetic testing to see what else could be given alongside the treatment, a more targeted therapy was also applied. Her body responded well to that, and she was treated for 10 months before its effectiveness was questioned by her doctors. Ms Bulloch was then put on a different targeted therapy before she was eligible for surgery. 'We were doing the surgeries with the intention to remove all the cancer — which, spoiler, sadly didn't happen,' she said. The first surgery was called an high anterior resection, which saw all of her sigmoid colon and the top part of her rectum removed. Cancer was also removed from her liver. Two months later, she had another liver resection which saw the whole right lobe of her liver removed. There were plans to operate on her lungs, where cancer was also found, but at the last minute her treatment options were switched. She is now on a different chemotherapy. Ms Bulloch is sharing her story on behalf of Australian Cancer Research Foundation's Centre for Dynamic Immuno-Oncology at The Alfred in Melbourne. The centre looks at the potentially lifesaving potential of immunotherapy, with a grant allowing researchers to watch cancer cells interact with a patient's immune system in real time. This removes the need for things such as blood or tissue samples, and could allow researchers to find a more targeted approach for a person's individual cancer. Ms Bulloch said one of the chemotherapies was among the first ever created and had been around for 60 years. 'That's a good thing in some ways, but it's also really rubbish to receive. It makes you so sick,' she said. 'With chemotherapy, you kill everything and so you have a lot of collateral damage with that. Whereas with targeted therapies, it looks for something specific. 'And I mean, I'm no doctor, of course, but I'm convinced that the incredible response I had to treatment at the beginning was because of the targeted therapy.' Ms Bulloch had side effects to her treatment, such as a severe rash, but she said this was nothing compared to other types of treatment that left her bedridden and unable to have a semblance of regular life. Carly du Toit, General Manager of Australian Cancer Research Foundation, told that immunotherapy is one of the most important breakthroughs in cancer treatment. 'But right now, it's only effective in some patients and others experience severe side effects or minimal results,' she said. 'Until we unlock its full potential for all patients, we haven't truly delivered on its promise. At ACRF, our mission is to change that. By supporting world-leading research, like the ACRF Centre for Dynamic Immuno-Oncology, we're working to ensure that this lifesaving treatment becomes a reality for everyone who needs it.' Colon cancer falls under the banner of bowel cancer, with the Royal Australian College of General Practitioners reporting that it was up 266 per cent from the 1980s among 15 to 24 year olds. Ms Bulloch said no two cancers were alike, and so she believed treatment options needed to be tailored. The young librarian also said she is sharing her story to show that colon cancer can impact anyone, and it's important to be on the lookout for what the signs are. She said she's had friends confide in her, and she wants these types of conversations to be normalised. 'When it started happening to me the first thing I felt was embarrassed, which is so silly, that I was embarrassed that I was having bleeding,' she said. 'I just let the embarrassment stop me from doing anything or telling anyone about it.' She said she will continue to advocate so that others can have full autonomy over their health. And, for Ms Bulloch, she said focusing on the everyday moments of joy while dealing with everything that has happened over the last two years is helping to get her through it all. At the beginning of this year, she met her partner Sam on Hinge when both were initially set on deleting the app for good. 'It's been a couple of months now we've done so many fun things but also he's sat with me in some really tough things,' she said. 'I went through losing my hair shortly after meeting him, getting bad scan results — like the poor things really like not come into my life at a mountain top moment.'
Washington Post
14-05-2025
- Politics
- Washington Post
6 readers on librarians, libraries and protests inside them
Regarding the May 10 Style article 'White House ties sudden firing of top librarian to 'pursuit of DEI'': The decision by President Donald Trump to fire Carla Hayden, the librarian of Congress, a scant year before her 10-year term ends perhaps ranks among his most crass, inexplicable and senseless firings. Hayden is both the first woman and the first African American to hold this, until now, apolitical post.
New York Times
13-05-2025
- Politics
- New York Times
I Reject Trump's Random False Rationale Generator
If the White House wants to fire the librarian of Congress, it can. But it was interesting to have recently had the experience of meeting this dynamic, dedicated person, and feeling so proud that she was our librarian of Congress, then reading the White House's sloppy, juvenile rationale for her dismissal; it gave me a visceral feeling for just how diseased this administration really is. I was the recipient of the Library of Congress's Prize for American Fiction in 2023. Dr. Carla Hayden struck me then as energetic, engaged and utterly dedicated to the work of the library. One of the things Dr. Hayden and I bonded over was the idea that knowledge is power, that in a democracy, the more we know, the better we are. The White House, tossing out nonsense from its meager box of repetitive right-wing auto-defenses, claimed on Friday that Dr. Hayden had, 'in the pursuit of D.E.I.,' done 'quite concerning things.' Did it name those things? It did not. It couldn't have. Putting aside the basic idiocy of being against that position ('What, you value diversity? You think things should be equitable? And that all should be included?'), members of the administration now use 'D.E.I.' as a sort of omni-pejorative, deliberately (strategically) leaving its exact meaning vague. What it seems to mean, to them, is: The accused is a person who is aware that certain groups have had a different experience of American life and who feels that it is part of our intellectual responsibility (and joy) to engage with that history, so as to improve our democracy (that whole 'more perfect union' thing). This the administration sees not as healthy intellectual curiosity but as dangerous indoctrination. Indoctrination into what? Truth, history, a realistic engagement with the past, I guess. The White House also stated, with an inaccuracy that would be comic if it weren't so sickening, that Dr. Hayden put 'inappropriate books in the library for children.' The librarian of Congress doesn't put books into the library. And presumably, the American people benefit from having access to the widest possible collection of books. Even those American people who are children, who, after all, have parents to decide what is inappropriate. In the real world, the world of cause and effect, when we tear down the best among us and provide bogus reasons for why we did it, reality will eventually come for us. To behave honorably requires that we be in contact with the truth, to be able to supply honest answers to simple questions. If the White House wanted to part ways with Dr. Hayden, why couldn't it, without insulting her groundlessly, do so, and then (truthfully) say why? One wonders. The firing of Dr. Hayden and the inane dissembling that followed represent a kind of diabolical Opposite Day phenomenon: An exceptional person is stupidly tossed aside, and to come up with an explanation the administration turns to its patented Random False Rationale Generator. When a ship is sinking, there's value in knowing how fast, and calling it out. When a country is self-sabotaging, ditto. So let me just say it: Shame on the White House. Shame on those who should be stopping this slide into autocracy and aren't. (I'm looking at you, John Thune, Mike Johnson and Marco Rubio.) Shame on all of us if we let these ignorant purveyors of cruelty reduce this beautiful thing we've built over these hundreds of years to a hollow, braying, anti-version of itself.
