Novelist Richard Peck once described the typical k-12 faculty room as “the teachers’ hall of primal screaming.”  True, there’s often a fair amount of moaning heard in there, but most faculty rooms are also the real community centers of the educational structure.  Helpful hints are shared, educational discourse is debunked, and collaborative projects planned, as teachers gather for lunch, a break for classes, or even instant — if momentary — refreshment in a location off-limits to students and most outsiders. 

For many school librarians, however, there’s still a sense of loneliness in those physical faculty rooms.  No matter what the grade level or subject, classroom teachers share certain basic routines.  But few of them really understand all the daily demands of OUR jobs.  

That’s why so many of us are addicted to LM_Net, our 24/7 cyber-Faculty room, where we can discuss the unique concerns that shape our professional (and sometimes personal) lives.  Topics run the gamut, from Big Issues: flex vs. fixed schedules, Censorship vs. Selection, Print vs. Online Resources, to the basics:  broken bindings, overdue notices, projector bulbs and print-cartridge replacements.  

Conversation on LM_NET (according to its own publicity) focuses on the “topics of interest to the school library media community, including the latest on school library media services, operations, and activities. It is a group for practitioners helping practitioners, sharing ideas, solving problems, telling each other about new publications and up-coming conferences, asking for assistance or information, and linking schools through their library media centers.”   In reality the messages run the gamut of any friendly — and sometimes not so friendly — gathering of colleagues:  daily survival skills, administrivia, personal and family interests, budget woes, news of the day, recommended resources, trends and theories, political commentary, book and movie discussions, even bad jokes.

In many ways, the “community” of LM_Net bears a remarkable resemblance to the social structure of a Faculty room.    Any time you drop in, you might encounter:

• the old-timers, who are ‘in residence’ throughout the year.  Depending on their schedules, they may not contribute to every day’s conversation, but you know they’re there, listening… and sooner or later they will have something to say.
• the experienced subs, who are well-known in the building.  They’re part of the extended community, able to come and go and still take part in the flow of conversation.  They know the ‘territory,’ and understand the climate.
• the recent grads, treading water like crazy, as they realize that their coursework —or even field experience — did not cover much of what they need to know to survive on the job.  They want to be seen as professionals, even if they often feel overwhelmed.  They’re still trying to figure out the subleties of who and when and how to ask for help, and don’t understand why some of the old-timers are reluctant to share all their files and materials.
• the interns and student teachers, often wondering if this is really what they want to do with their lives.  Much of what the old-timers accept as routine seems unusual or even unreasonable to them.  The bell schedules and marking period rhythms haven’t been internalized yet, and every topic is new to *them*, even if it is familiar territory to everyone else around them.  They’re hoping that —if they ask nicely — the oldtimers will make copies of all their files for them.
• the department supervisors.  They don’t usually participate, but we know that they’re listening (or being told about) the conversations, and sometimes they  may add a comment or two … or even intervene, if necessary.
• the former teacher, now a staff developer, with new possibilities for us to consider adding to our curriculums,

and sometimes even:

• the visiting professors, who preach the what “should be”… without having to cope with the realities of what “is.”   They’re here to tell the rest of us what to strive for, whether it’s actually attainable or not.
• the occasional Board of Education member, who is convinced that he has OUR best interests at heart, whether we believe it or not.
• the travelling insurance reps, toting donuts and trial offers, looking for our good will (and business).

LM_Net gives us a common ‘room’, a meeting place whenever WE need it, where we can share ideas and issues, gripes and goodies.  Some of us stop by several times during the day, some can only visit after work is over, but we still understand and appreciate the sense of collegiality whenever we’re there.  No, we don’t all get along all the time, but every faculty room has had to cope with cliques and controversy over the years.  

Want to see why so many teacher-librarians and friends of our profession have become regular members of the LM_Net cyber-community?  visit us at http://www.eduref.org/lm_net/ and/or explore the LM_Net archives.
Pick any month, and browse by date or by subject thread to see the variety and scope of the messages.

Many LM_Netters are convinced that our cyber-community truly embodies the best kind of professional development; ongoing, responsive, up-to-date, and personal, yet with a global point of view.  Yes, we still do some primal screaming there, but we also share strategies and successes.  And that’s what faculty rooms will always exist. . .  wherever educators gather.

Note: for advice on how to manage LM_Net’s multitudinous messages without getting overwhelmed, see my Y’s Guide to keeping up with LM_Net.
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LM_Net: the 24/7 FACULTY ROOM for SCHOOL LIBRARIANS
By Alice H. Yucht
originally published in  Teacher-Librarian April 2001  
updated 2/23/05