Last fall, the Massachusetts Library System (MLS) Youth Services Section (YSS) hosted a virtual “Lunch and Learn” with the folks from the Westwood Public Library‘s PR/marketing team. They spoke about being proactive and intentional instead of reactive, about brand consistency, quality control, and increased engagement with the community, and about sustainability and succession (so all the institutional knowledge doesn’t walk out the door when one person leaves).
Toward the end, they recommended three books: The Non-Designers Design Book by Robin Williams, This Is Marketing by Seth Godin, and Unreasonable Hospitality by Will Guidara. I just read Unreasonable Hospitality, and was thinking about ways we can offer excellent service and hospitality in libraries. (Guidara writes mainly about his area of expertise, restaurants, but the core principles are applicable to any service industry.) How do we make people who visit the library feel welcome, at home, seen, listened to, and cared for? What needs can we anticipate and fulfill?
One thing public libraries in Massachusetts do that often strikes people as magical when they first learn about it is our inter-library loan system. If a local library doesn’t have the book you want on its shelf when you want it – either because they don’t own it or it’s checked out – you can request a copy, and another library in the consortium will send it over. You can return the book to your home library or any other library in the network, and that library will make sure the book gets back to its owning library. It’s the magic of sharing! (And an algorithm, and van drivers, and sorters at the central facility, etc.) This saves people time and money, and it’s a pretty cool service.
ILL is a core service of libraries as far as I’m concerned, and so are programs: author talks and book signings, storytimes, Lego and games, book clubs, ELL and language learning groups, knitting and sewing groups, history and science lectures. The library is that “third place” where people can gather for entertainment, education, and community, without having to purchase anything. Being responsive to what the community wants – making sure people know that staff are open to ideas and willing to try new things – is part of building community and trust. It’s why I encourage patrons to talk to me in person, contact me by e-mail, or put a note in my desk mailbox. A lot of the new programs I’ve developed over the past year and a half have come out of these interactions, including Pokemon Club and the toy swap.
Hospitality means going beyond your organization’s core functions, however; beyond the “black and white” and into color, as Guidara puts it. What are the special, small, meaningful things you do to make people feel comfortable? In a children’s room, that might mean making sure all the outlets are covered, there’s a place to hang coats and park strollers, and there’s a changing table in every restroom. It could mean that books face cover-out as much as possible, there are toys to encourage play, and signage is friendly and informative. It could mean you have a first-aid kit ready to hand, bookmarks to give away, and stickers or hand stamps to ease the transition of leaving the library. It means greeting people who walk in the door, learning the names of the regulars…even remembering their tastes and preferences and making personalized recommendations.
What touches of hospitality have you put in place in your library (or bookstore, or other service workplace)? Where have you experienced remarkable, unexpected, “unreasonable hospitality” yourself?
A big part of what made “unreasonable hospitality” work in Guidara’s restaurants was that the staff was empowered to enact ideas, make exceptions, etc. without getting approval from a manager. This approach made me think of the organization and management of public libraries course I took in grad school; the teacher, an adjunct who had worked in many libraries, told us that the manager’s job is to make it possible for everyone else to do their jobs, and then get out of the way. In other words, don’t micromanage; instead, train and trust your staff, empower them to handle their responsibilities, make sure they have what they need to succeed, and be there to back them up. Unreasonable Hospitality is a beautiful example of that principle in action.
I decided our February book club would be the last one until summer, when I would run it again for a new group of rising K/1st graders. No one showed up for the program…but, there were plenty of kids and adults in the children’s room, so I invited them all in for a storytime instead. We read the same two books – Arihhonni David’s The Good Game and Who Will Win? – and used the coloring sheets I’d printed (a flying squirrel and a bat, characters in The Good Game), I just sprinkled in a few songs and rhymes as well: “Open Shut Them,” “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider,” and 
Three of the younger kids started with Robot Turtles, and the others began making codes for each other to decipher. I gave a basic explanation about how to use the Caesar cipher (or shift cipher), then helped the kids get Robot Turtles set up, then helped the ones who were having trouble figuring out the ciphers. (I think one thing that tripped them up initially was the letter-letter correspondence, rather than letter-number correspondence; the only number you need with this kind of cipher is the “shift,”; it’s not an A=1, B=2 kind of code.) But eventually, everyone figured it out, and then they could swap ciphered messages to decipher!
In the next few weeks, we’ll have a building challenge with blocks (we have both regular and life-size Jenga), a puzzle challenge (a 36-piece jigsaw with the picture showing, then upside down), penny boats, Snap Circuits, primary color painting (think Mix It Up!), and more. What STEAM activities do you like to do with kids?
The kids’ graphic novel book club I started last fall is still going strong, with about 4-7 kids attending each month. This month we read Lucky Scramble by Peter Raymundo, about a kid named Tyler who goes to a Rubik’s cube competition. Our icebreaker question was “What’s your favorite kind of puzzle?” and a lot of the kids said “Rubik’s cube,” even though none of us could solve one. (I said word puzzles, like wordle, and it turns out all of the kids also do the NYT puzzles!)
Last, the kids voted on which book to read next. The choices were Curveball by Pablo Cartaya, Pebble & Wren by Chris Hallbeck, and Puzzled by Pan Cooke. The first two got one vote each and Puzzled got two votes, so that will be our February book – but all three books got checked out. It was a good afternoon!
Passive programming, or self-directed programming, is a type of program that library patrons can participate in independently or with only minimal interaction with library staff. This recent 
This Monday was the one-year anniversary of the 
Endlessly Ever After has become a mandatory staple since last December; it’s the book we always end with, but it’s different every time because of its pick-your-path nature. (Our storytime group is beyond excited that there is going to be another one in, I think, 2026? Laurel and Dan, if you need beta readers, we are at your service.)
As you can see, we lean toward bedtime books and fairy tales, including fractured fairy tales. I can already tell All at Once Upon A Time is going to be a repeat read; it goes so well with Endlessly, and the kids – and grown-ups! – who come to Pajama Storytime are old enough to understand and enjoy the humor. That’s something I love about Pajama Storytime: I get to read some wonderful books that are simply too long or complex for my morning storytime, which is mostly toddlers. There are great picture books for that age, too, and I love them, but Pajama Storytime lets me share more books with a different audience.
A few sample notes and responses (lightly edited for spelling, etc.):
To end on a happy note (no pun intended): My favorite note so far was about how the book Molly’s Tuxedo by Vicki Johnson, illustrated by Gillian Reid, was affirming for a child deciding what to wear ahead of a family holiday, and helped foster a conversation with a grandparent too. The note-writer concluded, “Thank you for your commitment to diversity + inclusion!” It’s gratifying to see that books really do make a difference. I was able to share this note with the book’s author on social media, and I hope she was half as pleased as I was.
Jenny Arch 