Reflecting over this past year of library life, two words come to mind: balance and healing.
In their most personal forms, they exist within an individualβs well-being. These physical, mental, emotional and spiritual structures of a person often remain intangible to the naked eye.
In public librarianship, I have found that our role and impact is nearer to an information practitioner, an information care provider, of tangible means to concealed adversities.
Sometimes as information practitioners, we inherit our patronsβ daily challenges manifesting in the simplest forms, like writing an email, creating a resume or searching for self-help books. Yes, we are a profession that manages and organizes library resources and services, but a great deal of our existence is offering our own knowledge bases to others in the hopes that some kind of balance will resonate in their lives.
As information practitioners, we navigate an understanding that there are ways of remedying imbalances without disregarding them, no matter how hidden they remain.
From my own healing experiences, they are processes that I have to learn to do on my own, but it does not mean that I have to be alone in this journey. Sometimes, we enter peoples lives in these moments and help shape the trajectory of their progress.
Life has a way of coming full circle, especially when othersβ challenges mirror that of a friend, a loved one and even oneself. And when these moments happen, within a mere reference question, information practitioners often use our own lessons and our own stories to help guide our conversations with patrons. It is in this way that I understand that libraries have evolved because of the librarians themselves. Because we have practiced a great deal of information on ourselves, it is a part of the reason we have the ability to be great orators, as well as dreamers, about wellbeing.
Balance has been a great part of my upbringing and continues to remain close. As I write these words, my NΓ‘lΓ (paternal grandfather) is also close. He is always close whenever I speak with a friend, a loved one, a colleague or a patron. He speaks of HΓ³zhΓ³, a philosophy of balance and the Beauty Way, as a way to maintain a language of understanding for myself, even when I do not feel like myself.
HΓ³zhΓ³ can flow in between the cracks of peopleβs barriers and limitations because of its ability to love. Customer service is beautiful in this way because we share information, we interact with resources, and we express feelings that potentially impacts the way patrons see themselves when they leave our doors.
Our words are, at times, medicine tailored to the individual, and in return, we create a sense of community through diverse cultural landscapes. When everything is done in good relation, in some instances, I often hear, βThank you, mija.β In a language that regards me as a loved one or a daughter, I know that I have done my job well.
To my fellow information practitioners in the county and beyond, in any shape or form you exist, I feel a responsibility to tell you to be patient with yourself. We practice both professional and personal information and may not always get things right the first time. It is in these moments that I advise you to love yourself regardless. When you are unsure, remember that our discipline does wonders when we engage in oral tradition with each other.
Language is beautiful in this way because the kind of grace we give our patrons in resources and services, we reciprocally give back to ourselves: balance and healing.
Tucson Landmarks: The Joel D. Valdez Main Library, located at 101 N. Stone Ave., is easily recognized by the red "Sonora" sculpture that stands tall in the front plaza. The Main Library is home to the Cele Peterson Arizona Collection and the Steinheimer Collection along with other resources available to the public. Video by Pascal Albright / Arizona Daily Star.



