So, on the day of the penultimate Hot Mikado performance, we closed the doors of the Library of Doom for the very last time. Since then, most of our stock has gone into storage, while the merry band of librarians and library assistants have been scattered to the winds, dispersed across five different buildings on the university campus. My team is based in a Temporary Library in an examinations hall, and we are all waiting out the summer, in anticipation of the grand opening of our big new, shiny learning centre. Each day, as we go about our business, we can see the old library building being gutted, as teams of builders prepare it for a new life as a collection of teaching labs.
It was hardly a perfect building. It leaked, sometimes causing large chunks of paint to fall from the ceiling. It flooded once, which was rather exciting as an old storm drain suddenly made its presence felt in the foyer. A shelf once came loose and made a valiant attempt at decapitating me. The carpet tiles made endless attempts to trip people up. The building was always either too cold or too hot. The book return box was an eyesore. It had slopes in inconvenient places which made it difficult to wheel the trolleys around. Some of the light switches were behind shelves of music books. The layout didn’t make sense, even after nearly nine years of working there. There was never enough space for the books. It had wheelchair access issues and a frightening lift.
I miss it, though. I was the final member of staff to go through the closing-up routine and even as I passed the dodgy shelves, switched off the inconvenient lights, wrestled with the complicated doors on the first floor and took in each of the building’s faults, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss as each room was plunged into darkness and sealed away from marauding students. I locked the Group Study Room and remembered the Children in Need fundraiser event, S Club Library. I chuckled as I saw a few videos which reminded me of our Easter Egg Hunt (bags of mini eggs were hidden inside some of the video cases). I passed the office with the hideous yellow shelves and remembered the student who came in there and asked for photographs of the Great Fire of London. Almost eight years is a long time to work in one building, and had clearly allowed many memories to build up. The different areas we’d sealed off with hazard tape from time to time. The hysteria I’d shared with a colleague when the shelf tried to kill me. The desk where I was sitting when I got the email asking me to perform in Aladdin. The secluded part of the Open Access Area (computer lab) where I’d done some of the assignments for my librarianship qualification. And more, of course.
All gone, now. But the stock remains (and believe me, some of the books, DVDs and equipment have memories attached to them) and more importantly, my colleagues are still around as well. I couldn’t hope for a better group of peers. We share a lot of laughs and the odd tear now and then. Whole shelves of librarians turn out to watch my shows, and we have regular trips to the local noodle bar and other eating and drinking establishments. Frustrations are shared, ideas are passed to and fro and we seem to cope with anything, from the complete loss of our library management software (otherwise known as The Month We Do Not Speak Of) to unspeakably rude library patrons, and from yet another brood of ducklings in the garden to malfunctioning exit doors.
So in a strange way I miss the nasty old Library of Doom, even as I look forward to the new building. Whatever the environment’s like, I know we’ll be forging some new memories there. I just hope it never becomes the Shiny Learning Centre of Doom…
The Singing Librarian Talks 