If You Give a Teacher a Cookie

My 10 years as a classroom teacher were spent collaborating with library media specialists. And that experience was put to the test when I switched jobs and began interviewing as a school librarian.

The interview committee at Whitman Middle School in Seattle, WA, asked how I planned to work with teachers. My answer was based on my previous partnership with a Reading Recovery teacher named Robin, who frequently dropped by my room to ask what I was teaching. She took notes to ensure that she could support my lessons and made suggestions on ways we could work together.

I got the job.

My first task at Whitman was to figure out how to apply Robin's strategies to 50 teachers serving almost 1,200 students. The answer was unexpected, but it worked. I pulled out my mom's chocolate chip cookie recipe and made a double batch. I filled a basket with fresh cookies, and carried a clipboard with the staff list, blank paper, and a plan book, and visited each teacher as they prepared their lessons for the coming school year.

The first visit was mainly to get acquainted, and the information from teachers helped further develop my library collection. During follow-up visits, I offered a cookie in exchange for an answer to the question "What are you teaching to start the year?" I had changed districts, so everything about the curriculum was new. I took careful notes, paying attention to which science kits were used at each grade level, whether all of the eighth-grade social studies teachers were starting to teach world geography, or if several teachers wanted to begin independent reading projects immediately. The meetings helped me plan lessons on specific topics, gave me an opportunity to co-teach social studies lessons, and led to conversations with several science teachers on ways the library could support science fair projects.

Another question I asked during my visits is "What part of your teaching gives you the most pleasure?" This is a very powerful question because it affirms what my colleagues are teaching and gives me more opportunities to suggest ways that the library can serve them better.

After the first round of cookie visits, I began prioritizing teachers' requests, such as creating a video catalogue or tracking down a Web site. Some requests took longer. For example, a special education teacher wanted a list of appropriate stories under 500 words for her class. To keep everyone informed, I created The Occasional Library Newsletter, which contained author visits, interesting Web sites, and both school and Seattle Public Library events. I also listed new book reviews and included suggestions for age-appropriate lessons, such as Greek mythology and caribou migration.

I continued to make cookie visits about every six weeks, but I added two rules: visit everyone and don't hurry. If a teacher was absent or busy, I returned later in the week. I wrapped a cookie for hard-to-reach teachers and placed them in their mailboxes with a note inviting them to stop by the library. A round of cookie visits wasn't complete until I had spoken to all the teachers in every department. As a result, foreign language and physical education teachers who had never imagined the library serving them now stop by with their students.

Cookie visits, which always take place after school, ensure that I have regular contact with the entire staff. While the principal isn't a part of my regular cookie visits, I update her and the assistant principal on my activities in a short monthly report. Circulation statistics jumped during my first year at Whitman and continue to rise. And colleagues tell me that library use—by teachers and students alike—has gone up since my arrival. Although cookie visits haven't led to collaboration with all teachers, they have increased trust, built relationships, and provided a regular channel of communication. It also pleases my principal because her staff sees me as an important resource and a partner in the learning process.