"A day in which you learn something is never a complete loss."
-David Eddings*
-David Eddings*
Perhaps it was simply the way Prof. Lankes kept bringing it up in class as an example of failed potential that I found myself drawn to the Central Branch of the Onondaga County Public Library. Normally, I go to Petit because it is about a two-minute drive from my apartment. Besides that, I enjoy the intimate feel of the small library- and I enjoy getting to talk with Terri, one of my fellow IST 511 classmates. There is a friendly, personable feel to Petit and I have come to love the charming, pseudo-small-town-style library. Although I had not yet ever made my way to Central, I knew from the comments of others that it would be larger. I suppose I somehow figured the small-town atmosphere of Petit would transfer, even in a larger space. Oh, foolish naivete.
I should preface the following observations/impressions with the statement that Central is in no way a bad library, nor an incompetent nor poorly run one. It is functional; the staff seem plenty competent. But I will confess I was a bit disappointed. Especially considering how much I liked the open, skylight space leading into it. I had heard enough about the lack of easy, convenient parking so I was mentally prepared for that issue--and was pleased to find a street space just a little over a block away. (Actually, I could have probably gotten a closer space if I had wanted to drive up and down a little longer- but took advantage of the first opportunity I found.)
The library boasts a fairly impressive four floors to house their collection. I think I would have been more impressed if sections were more clearly indicated. My initial thoughts were that it wasn't especially user friendly. I had to ask the information desk where to find the restrooms, which were one floor above the main library floor. While I would fault the architects for poor planning in that regard, the library could make a larger sign indicating that they are on the next floor up. I shouldn't have to bother a librarian for something so basic.
Besides the bathrooms, I didn't feel that the collection was easily organized. That's not to say that it was disorganized- it just didn't feel as intuitive to me. Sort-of like walking into a Borders (back in the day) after being used to Barnes & Nobles. B&N always made sense to me, so no matter how large or small the store, I could always easily find the section I was looking for. Borders felt much less intuitive that way, which is why I didn't shop there as often. I still liked going to Borders (up until they closed, of course), but I always preferred B&N. Back to Central, I just didn't feel like the sections were clearly marked. At Petit, the space is small enough that you only have to walk a few steps to quickly find the section you need. But I feel like a larger library can't afford that- they need to make the collection more easily navigable. Sure, they do have signs in the stairwell identifying the location of some key places--administrative offices, children's floor, etc. But in the library itself, the signs are not as visible as they should be. I'll admit, I could be spoiled--I moved here from just north of Indianapolis, and frequented the Carmel-Clay Public Library as well as a couple of branches of the Indianapolis-Marion County Public Library system. The Central branch of the IMCPL, recently renovated, is a beautiful open space with 8 or 9 floors--I never felt like I had trouble finding exactly what I needed there. The Carmel-Clay Public Library is smaller by far, but even so, with only two or three floors to manage, it still clearly marked the fiction, juvenile fiction, children's fiction, non-fiction, audio-visual, etc.
Now, to be fair, I wasn't looking for anything in particular--I was mostly just there to browse, to get a feel for it. It's entirely possible that if I needed to find something in particular, it might prove easier to find than my initial impression suggests. I don't know. It could be that the day was just gray and dreary; it could be that, hungry as I was, I walked around downtown Syracuse--in the dull, October drizzle--trying to find a particular restaurant I was told was good, only to find that it appeared to be closed until dinner; it could be that after walking in the rain, eating an average sub from the cafe downstairs, I was just tired and grumpy and impatient with life in general; it could just be that I had subconsciously absorbed Prof. Lankes opinion of the place. Whatever it was, I remember thinking that somehow, this place could be--and should be--so much more than it currently IS. I'm not sure how, yet, but a part of me now wants to go back as often as I can squeeze in the time, if only to figure out how to help it "be all that [it] can be."**
*Forgive the improper attribution of the quotation- it was actually said by one of David Eddings' characters, but I cannot remember which one.
**My thanks to the American Army for NOT obliterating my apartment b becorrowing their recruiting tagline.
I should preface the following observations/impressions with the statement that Central is in no way a bad library, nor an incompetent nor poorly run one. It is functional; the staff seem plenty competent. But I will confess I was a bit disappointed. Especially considering how much I liked the open, skylight space leading into it. I had heard enough about the lack of easy, convenient parking so I was mentally prepared for that issue--and was pleased to find a street space just a little over a block away. (Actually, I could have probably gotten a closer space if I had wanted to drive up and down a little longer- but took advantage of the first opportunity I found.)
The library boasts a fairly impressive four floors to house their collection. I think I would have been more impressed if sections were more clearly indicated. My initial thoughts were that it wasn't especially user friendly. I had to ask the information desk where to find the restrooms, which were one floor above the main library floor. While I would fault the architects for poor planning in that regard, the library could make a larger sign indicating that they are on the next floor up. I shouldn't have to bother a librarian for something so basic.
Besides the bathrooms, I didn't feel that the collection was easily organized. That's not to say that it was disorganized- it just didn't feel as intuitive to me. Sort-of like walking into a Borders (back in the day) after being used to Barnes & Nobles. B&N always made sense to me, so no matter how large or small the store, I could always easily find the section I was looking for. Borders felt much less intuitive that way, which is why I didn't shop there as often. I still liked going to Borders (up until they closed, of course), but I always preferred B&N. Back to Central, I just didn't feel like the sections were clearly marked. At Petit, the space is small enough that you only have to walk a few steps to quickly find the section you need. But I feel like a larger library can't afford that- they need to make the collection more easily navigable. Sure, they do have signs in the stairwell identifying the location of some key places--administrative offices, children's floor, etc. But in the library itself, the signs are not as visible as they should be. I'll admit, I could be spoiled--I moved here from just north of Indianapolis, and frequented the Carmel-Clay Public Library as well as a couple of branches of the Indianapolis-Marion County Public Library system. The Central branch of the IMCPL, recently renovated, is a beautiful open space with 8 or 9 floors--I never felt like I had trouble finding exactly what I needed there. The Carmel-Clay Public Library is smaller by far, but even so, with only two or three floors to manage, it still clearly marked the fiction, juvenile fiction, children's fiction, non-fiction, audio-visual, etc.
Now, to be fair, I wasn't looking for anything in particular--I was mostly just there to browse, to get a feel for it. It's entirely possible that if I needed to find something in particular, it might prove easier to find than my initial impression suggests. I don't know. It could be that the day was just gray and dreary; it could be that, hungry as I was, I walked around downtown Syracuse--in the dull, October drizzle--trying to find a particular restaurant I was told was good, only to find that it appeared to be closed until dinner; it could be that after walking in the rain, eating an average sub from the cafe downstairs, I was just tired and grumpy and impatient with life in general; it could just be that I had subconsciously absorbed Prof. Lankes opinion of the place. Whatever it was, I remember thinking that somehow, this place could be--and should be--so much more than it currently IS. I'm not sure how, yet, but a part of me now wants to go back as often as I can squeeze in the time, if only to figure out how to help it "be all that [it] can be."**
*Forgive the improper attribution of the quotation- it was actually said by one of David Eddings' characters, but I cannot remember which one.
**My thanks to the American Army for NOT obliterating my apartment b becorrowing their recruiting tagline.