A Passion for Her Profession

The old adage "If you want a job done, ask a busy person" perfectly reflects the enormous energy and abilities of the 2001 Grolier Award winner, Julie Cummins. For nearly 40 years, Cummins has worked tirelessly and with distinction as a youth services librarian, and also as a teacher, author, critic, advocate, and mentor. In her extensive professional involvement on the state, national, and international levels, she has been an eloquent spokesperson for the issues and concerns of youth services. She has not been afraid to take a stand and let her voice be heard; yet her judgment is always reasonable and well informed.

She initiated New York State's Empire State Award for Excellence in Literature for Youth and has served on numerous awards committees, chairing both the Newbery and Caldecott committees. Her many articles and books have made a significant contribution to the literature of librarianship. And her books for young readers, The Inside-Outside Book of Libraries (Dutton, 1996) and Tomboy of the Air (HarperCollins, 2001), a biography of Blanche Stuart Scott, America's first woman aviator, have earned critical praise.

Perhaps Cummins's greatest contribution to the profession is as a mentor and role model to a generation of librarians. Her generosity in sharing her knowledge, her willingness to listen and offer encouragement, and her "pitch in and let's get the job done" attitude is well known to those of us who have turned to her for advice. Practical and productive, Cummins is blessed with both common sense and a great sense of humor.

Her outstanding contributions bring honor to the profession, and her lifelong passion for bringing children and books together has set a standard of excellence for all who are involved in library services to children. She does the Grolier Award proud to be listed as its most recent recipient.

You're one of the few youth services librarians who has had an impact on the local, state, and national levels. You've been president of the New York Library Association, served on the American Library Association's council, and you're currently a member of its executive board. Why is it important for youth services librarians to be key players in larger arenas?

It's important to give credibility to the whole professional aspect of children's librarianship. For way too long, children's librarians have been stuck with a stereotype that we are the librarians who take the little kiddies off into the corner and do those cut-and-paste things. And we are much more than that, as those in the field know. So it's important that we demonstrate that we are capable of moving within the bigger picture of things, as does the person who is the reference librarian or the person who is the administrator.

You've had an amazingly diverse writing career. But since 1992, with the publication of the first volume of Children's Book Illustration and Design (PBC International) you seem to have made children's book illustration a specialty. Tell us a little about that book.

I think one of the real values of the book is that underneath or beside each of the illustrations is a comment from the illustrator, saying what he or she was trying to achieve or commenting on something that was really difficult to do. So the artist's words offer insight into a particular illustration and book.

When I was approached about doing this book, there were a number of reference books that used narrative to talk about illustration. But what's different about this book is that most of the page itself is given over to an example of a particular illustrator's style. The first volume covers 85 illustrators, the second volume covers 55. I find it's a great reference tool, and it's wonderful for people who don't know a lot about children's book illustration.

You often speak to librarians about controversial or censored picture books. What advice do you offer?

When I do training with children's librarians, when we talk about books that are censored and how to handle complaints from patrons, the best advice that I give them is, first of all, don't ever get defensive and put your hands on your hips and say, "I'm the professional, and I've been trained to make judgments about these books. So, if it's in our collection, it must be worthwhile." You don't ever do that.

What you do is listen, and then you say, "I understand you're very upset about this. This is what your objection is." Then, if you have a formal [reconsideration] process, go through that. But the important thing is to listen to what the people are expressing frustration over.

Oftentimes you can defuse things just by taking an understanding point of view, not backing down necessarily. For example, I've often said to parents who objected to some of Judy Blume's books, "Well, you weren't ready for your child to read about this. But now take this opportunity to talk to your child and convey to them the values you want them to have."

The committee that you chaired awarded the 1996 Caldecott Medal to Officer Buckle and Gloria (Putnam) by Peggy Rathmann. Since then, it's become one of the most popular Caldecott winners among children. But at the time, Officer Buckle was a surprising choice.

It's been wonderful to see how popular the book has become. At the press conference, when it came time for the announcement of the medal and the person read the name of the book, there was one second of hushed silence throughout the audience and then cheers and cries and hoorays and yells and whistles. It was a fantastic moment.

Officer Buckle and Gloria was a surprise pick because, for the most part, up to that point the books chosen to receive the Caldecott Medal for the most distinguished picture book published in America had art styles that were more serious, more sophisticated, beautiful, and elegant. This was the first time that a humorous style was so recognized and honored.

When our committee went back and looked at the original drawings and illustrations that Randolph Caldecott, the man for whom the medal is named, drew, they were very much akin to Peggy's drawings. There was a sameness of spirit.

Were books an important influence in your early life?

Very much so. When I was five years old, I made a life-enhancing discovery, and it took place in the public library of Loudonville, OH, the small town where I grew up, a town of 4,000 people. The library was the hub of the community. It was on the second floor, up above a building that housed the movie theater and the county clerk's office. So it was right in the heart of things.

I have this very visual memory of going up the stairs to the library. My mother taking me and sitting down at a small round table with the little chairs in the picture book section and opening up those books. It was like the world had opened up for me. And from that day on, I have been an avid reader. Books have been a passion in my life, and libraries, too, became a major influence of my life.

It seems natural that you decided to go to library school. But what attracted you to children's services?

I had been a camp counselor for two years during my college time. And what we'll call the hammy side of me came out, because I made up stories to tell the kids at various points during the day and seemed to have somewhat of a knack for that. And I liked being with kids. And so I said, "I think I'll be a children's librarian."

I had taken a children's literature course in library school and a storytelling course and seemed to have a little flair for doing that. So that seemed to be the right choice. I was hired at $4,900, and before I actually started my first day on the job, I think it was booted up to $5,100. In those days that seemed like a lot of money.

So that was where I began. I was a children's librarian for the Rochester (NY) Public Library and assigned to one of its branches. [Later on] I moved to the bookmobile, which was a real experience—not all of it was always good, especially in the wintertime, when we would go to schools. In those days, the schools did not have libraries and the bookmobile had a heated floor. So the kids would troop in, for their allotted 20-minute segments, with their boots on. The snow would fall off the boots and melt on the floor. And there you were, walking around in the slosh, trying to get kids books in a hurry and get them out the door before the next group arrived.

Sounds like a messy job.

It was. I had more colds and more germs during my three years doing that than any other time, probably because I had very close contact with all those runny-nosed kids. My next position was as head of the central children's room, and I really loved that job. It was a great combination of direct work with the public, both adults and kids, and then the research aspect of librarianship. We did a lot of class visits. We did some very creative programs there.

What were your favorites?

One in particular was something that people thought was truly nuts, but it started a tradition there. We decided that close to the holidays, in December, we would offer free baby-sitting while parents came downtown to shop. It was enormously popular. We were just swamped and exhausted by the end of the first morning. We did activities and crafts with the kids and everybody just thought it was great.

One of the other things that I did there, which was somewhat novel: I purchased a quantity of sculpture pieces, reproductions, and small, framed prints that we let the kids borrow. The program went over very well, and it was sort of an original way for kids to make connections with art forms.

In 1987, you became the seventh coordinator of children's services for the New York Public Library. One of your predecessors, Anne Carroll Moore, once wrote a friend that "whenever a body comes to New York, do let her sound her trumpet." How did you sound your trumpet?

If you asked someone else this question, they might answer that I sounded my trumpet, first of all, by demonstrating what a good sense of humor I have—that laughter is important in our daily jobs.

I was in that position for 13 years. And the way in which I hope I sounded my trumpet was that I not only retained the standards that Anne Carroll Moore put in place and helped apply them to the daily work that children's librarians were doing in those branches—and in lots of cases in very tough working environments—but also showed how what you do on a daily basis often does make a difference in the life of the child. And that's not just for the disadvantaged child, but also for the child who is advantaged.

Our rewards in this field are never monetary. They are always aesthetic. When you give a book to a child and there's a little twinkle in the eye, then you know you've made a match, you've made a connection. Your reward might not be anything more than a whispered "thank you," or the fact that that child comes back again and says, "Miss, would you please find me another book?"

It was conveying to children's librarians that here is the heart of what we're all about: it's making a connection between the child and book. And that's the way we build readers; that's the way we generate value for books and literacy; it's how we grow readers. Children who are readers grow into adults who remain readers. That sounds real philosophical. But it really is—as I often say—at the core and the heart of what we do.

You also had an enormous impact on NYPL's many publications.

That's one of the things that I feel was an accomplishment while I was at the New York Public Library. For many years, I took existing publications and transformed them into graphically attractive, nicely designed brochures. In fact, Anne Carroll Moore herself started one of those publications. The library did what was previously called a "Holiday Booklist." We now call it "Children's Books: 100 Tales for Reading and Listening."

Anne Carroll Moore started it as a recommendation of books that people could buy to give as gifts to children. The NYPL children's librarians who work on the committee determine the 100 best children's books, published within that year's time. When I first arrived, it was two large sheets of paper, folded and stapled, in black and white. Today, it's a very attractive, 16-page booklet with a four-color cover. It's become, I think, an even more respected list than when Anne Carroll Moore started it.

The other list that New York Public is most known for is "The Black Experience in Children's Books," which was started by Augusta Baker many years back. I believe it goes back to the 1940s. There was nothing like it at the time that she began it, and publishers, in particular, looked to it for real guidance. The list cites good examples of books that represent black children, books that re-emphasize their self-esteem, that hold up heroes and people in the culture that children can respect. That original publication grew into a lengthy publication that now comes out every five years. And again, we turned it into a nicely designed publication that is still very highly respected and well thought of in the field. It's sort of the Bible of recommended books about the African-American experience.

I think we did seven parent-and-child grants, which are competitive grants with the money provided through the state library. Each grant was on a different topic and for each one, we did a publication. Probably the most creative publication was the one on using Mother Goose rhymes and finger plays with young children. The publication, which I designed, had the actual words of the rhyme and directions on what you do with your hands to act it out. We spiral-bound the brochure and designed it so that when you pulled it open, it turned into an easel. So the person who was using it could have their hands free to act out the rhyme. That was a fun project to work on, and I was very pleased with it.

In your latest children's book, Tomboy of the Air , you wrote about Blanche Stuart Scott, a woman who was a daredevil pilot. You've also worked at a venerable institution, the New York Public Library, which has had many strong women leaders. Do you have any women heroes?

I have three of them. I've always wanted to be asked this question. [She laughs.] What is important to me, and I think what makes a difference in what you do with your life, is that you must have a passion for something. The three women that I admire demonstrated that they, indeed, had—and in one case, still have—a passion for what they do. My first hero is Amelia Earhart, for her flying. I admired her long before I discovered Blanche, the subject of Tomboy. Then there's Dian Fossey, for her work with gorillas in Africa; and finally, Julia Child, master chef. The three of them together, to me, are perfect examples that if you do what you do with passion, you can make a difference and have great satisfaction doing it. My passion is children's books, and how children's librarians are the people who bring children and books together. We open the windows to the world to enable the young to make life-enhancing discoveries.

What advice would you like to pass along to new children's librarians?

Perhaps what I said earlier, which is that the rewards in this field are never financial rewards. They are aesthetic ones that come from the heart, knowing that somehow you will make a difference in a child's life.

Also, librarians need to position the role of the children's library, not only within the library as a whole, but also within the community where children live. It's really important that we encourage parents to read to their children at the earliest age possible—and to see that reading books for pleasure doesn't become a dying thing. There is so much enjoyment to be derived from reading, but children so often get caught up in schoolwork and assignments, or with the Internet, thinking that they can get all the answers they need online.

But to me, nothing is ever going to replace the pleasure of holding a book in your hands. There's the tactile experience as well as the experience of using your mind to create whatever places, whatever characters, whatever scenes you can imagine, of making the story just take off and fly—that's what we're all about.

You need to care about what you're doing, know that this field is one of the most honorable, most worthy, and most needed. You also need to keep a sense of humor. That's very important to me. Because it helps you through many a tough time, and it also brings out the human element in all of us.