Signing the White House’s online petition pushing for school library funding in the reauthorization of the Elementary and Secondary Education Act wasn’t easy for me. Not because I didn’t want to sign it, but because I couldn’t—technically, that is. The handsome petition interface kept stalling, and my login from a past effort didn’t seem to register. I wasn’t alone, however. Colleagues on Facebook and Twitter fumed and encouraged others to try again. It shouldn’t be that hard, I thought; how many signatures will be lost to frustration? That got me thinking about what some around here call the A-word: advocacy.

Right about then, a draft of Debra Lau Whelan’s interview with Senator Jack Reed (D-RI) landed on my chair (see “He’s Got Your Back”). Reed’s win for school libraries this past December provided those working in all types of libraries a wisp of hope in this time of threatening cuts. The appropriation is not, Reed tells Whelan, “the silver bullet…. But it sends the signal that the federal government is still in the game.”

In short, it’s real money but it’s also real leverage for the local fight for funding that has to keep happening in every community. It’s a top-down tool in the day-in and day-out work of illustrating the value that libraries provide.

Advocacy is work, but it’s also storytelling—something those who work with kids are particularly good at.

Last summer, I sat in on a panel that the Urban Libraries Council put together about how to influence political leaders, with actual politicians speaking (see “The Kinds of Stories About Libraries That Influence Political Leaders”). The stories that matter, they agreed, make a meaningful connection to the goals of community leaders, show how libraries have an impact, and provide, wherever possible, data on how libraries enrich people’s lives. (This line of thought was also explored by a group of library directors at Library Journal’s 2011 Directors’ Summit in December. See “Moving from Outputs to Outcomes.”)

The politicians also urged librarians to get stakeholders, like community leaders and pols, inside their libraries to see the actual work that librarians do—and the results—for themselves. Reed concurs. He describes himself as “lucky” to have been exposed to libraries his whole life, and he’s used them in every setting. Not all politicians come with such an intimate relationship to libraries. Hence, we need to build it.

Even the invitation to visit, Reed implies, is an act of advocacy. “Invite members of Congress, Senators, to your school libraries,” he says. “If you get enough of those, guess what? Lawmakers who hadn’t thought twice about libraries are going to say, ‘You know what? My constituents really think libraries are important.’”

The point is to make a connection initially with the stories we tell about library impact, and then keep reinforcing it with additional information as time passes and local needs shift.

In this sense, advocacy work is also unforgiving. It’s a cycle of actions rather than something we can strike off the to-do list. It’s also something we need to get better at integrating into our daily work. And we need to actively share what works. No single approach will do. Frankly, the do-it and do-it-again aspect of advocacy gave me a sense of relief when wwws.whitehouse.gov seemed to lock me out. If that’s all there is, I thought, we’re in big trouble.

Luckily, Reed’s $28.6 million win gave me another spurt of energy right when I needed it. I tried again, and again, and eventually signed the petition—and crowed in a tweet in my own small act of encouragement. If you haven’t signed, please consider it (but hurry, it times out on February 4)—no matter what kind of library you work in, or use. Solidifying the status of school libraries via ESEA will elevate all libraries.

Rebecca T. Miller
Editor-in-Chief
rmiller@mediasourceinc.com

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