WebJunction

Arising

The Kinyaa'áanii Charlie Benally Library is symbolically situated at the center of the circular campus, which follows the sacred architecture of the Navajo hogan. Photo above by Vicky Beatty. Map provided by Diné College Office of Institutional Advancement.

The story of the Kinyaa'áanii Charlie Benally Library at Diné College in Tsaile (AZ) on the Navajo Reservation begins at the center and radiates outward. Rising from the ashes of the cultural assassination of the BIA boarding schools, Diné College was the first tribal college ever created as an environment for Native American learning in which tradition is honored and bridges are built between native and western cultures. It was conceived with a total orientation to the community and to lifelong learning, where generational knowledge is preserved, brought into present, and sent on into the future. Mindfulness of purpose is imbued in the very architecture of Diné College, especially in the location of the library.

The Tsaile campus follows the sacred form of the traditional Navajo hogan, laid out in a circle with the main entrance facing east. At the center—the place of the fire, the hearth—is the Kinyaa'áanii Charlie Benally Library. It was the first building to take shape on the campus; a ceremonial groundbreaking launched its construction. It nudged the cafeteria over to slightly off-center. Scraping through the thin veneer of New Age that some may try to apply to the campus, the placement reveals an ancient truth about the human community: learning and knowledge are at the center—a source of essential nourishment on a par with food. It is the library and its services that enable the social interactions and the connections that beget learning. “I think about knowledge as being an ongoing conversation across time and through space,” says Vicky Beatty, Instruction/Distance Services Librarian, who is herself at the center of some vital community-building activities.

Getting personal

When Beatty alighted in the unfamiliar territory of a library at the center of the Navajo Reservation and was tasked with instructing students in information literacy, she began by questioning her own assumptions about what that meant: “What is information literacy—tracking an animal? Reading clouds and wind? Knowing if someone is lying to you?” In an environment stripped of urban clutter, she noticed people in the community immersed in all kinds of information gathering, much of it cultural. As an outsider, how could Beatty climb her own cultural literacy learning curve while gaining the trust of the students to accept her instruction in western and technological literacy? She took a couple of key steps: first, she embarked on an extended cultural learning plan beginning with an introductory Navajo Studies class; second, she began to introduce herself as everyone's “personal librarian.”

Although not an instant prescription for success, by enrolling in the Navajo Studies class, Beatty demonstrated her genuine interest in native culture, got to share a peer learning experience, got to know people by name, and learned “an incredible amount.” Most significantly, she started to find her place in the community. Although she was laying a firm foundation for acceptance, she knew she also had to rethink her approach to information literacy instruction. Introducing students to library resources (electronic databases, Web-based library services) through the standard western point of view, she became aware of all the assumptions that permeated her delivery; she saw eyes glaze. Beatty knew she had to figure out how to build some bridges between the cultures. Hearing the Navajo people introduce themselves to each other with an exchange of personal information based on their ancestral clans, Beatty realized that trust could be gained by sharing more personally with patrons in Navajo cultural terms. She borrowed the approach of a math/physics faculty colleague, who invented his own clan names appropriate to his experience: “1-2-3 clan” (math) and “falling apple clan” (physics). Beatty identified her place in the “abc clan” (MA in English), “do-re-mi clan” (she is a musician), and the “antelope clan” (an inside joke referencing her MLIS). Going one step further, she identified herself as a personal librarian for every patron.

“When I teach information literacy classes, I start out by saying, 'I am your personal librarian!' I let the students know that I was hired specifically to help them with their research.” Beatty illuminates the students' natural information-seeking behavior and acts as their ambassador to the western approach. She encourages students to bring their information quests to her in personal one-on-one sessions. Beginning with a trickle of students, the demand for Beatty's personal librarian service is now a steady flow. According to David Hurley, College Librarian, when Beatty is in her office, there's almost always someone there with her. She also interacts via email and phone (with a toll-free number for remote patrons). Hurley was instrumental in acquiring funding for Beatty's position. He was keenly aware that providing electronic services was not going to be effective without the instruction on how to use them.

Taking it on the road

Instruction/Distance Librarian Vicky Beatty drives long distances in all seasons to deliver her information literacy classes. Photo by Stuart Heady.

The Diné College system has three campuses with libraries (Tsaile, Shiprock and Crownpoint) and a number of community centers (Window Rock, Ganado, Chinle, Kayenta, and Tuba City), all of which are spread out reservation-wide across two states. When Hurley first arrived at Diné in 1998, the library was just getting an online catalog to replace the old card catalog; purchases of online databases followed. Along with propelling the library into the Information Age, the online presence allowed the remote centers to discover and make use of available resources. However, on a visit to Tuba City in 2002, Hurley realized that they had never gotten access to the databases due to IP addresses that were out of range. The intent was in the right direction, but the burden was still on the patron to figure out how to make use of the system. “In theory, students would have to find out what books were available, call the library, and ask us to send it,” reports Hurley. “In practice, unless people were willing to come to Tsaile, they had no access to the library collections.”

Now Beatty literally and physically implements the idea of learning radiating outward from the Tsaile campus center: she takes her information literacy instruction on the road, driving many miles and hours to visit the community centers. Visits to the farther-flung locations require an overnight stay. Fortunately for all, Beatty loves driving through the infinitely changing desert and sky, absorbing the nuances of color, shape, and shadow with her artist's eye. For the two years in which Beatty has delivered her personal attention to students and patrons at the community centers, the results are measurable. System-wide, circulation doubled in the last year, with the most notable progress at the centers. At Kayenta, circulation increased 1500%; granted the numbers were small to begin with, but the personal involvement of Beatty's one-on-ones is a major factor. As she says, “It's exhilarating and intense.”

Hurley's and Beatty's efforts are augmented by the work of David Stevick, Director of the Shiprock and Crownpoint Libraries. Within the framework of a “one college, multi-campus” focus, Stevick's contributions to strengthening the collection in all formats help to bring coherence to the geographically separated departments and divisions. In particular, the robust electronic resources, comparable to those of larger institutions, enable the kind of rich discovery that Beatty's instruction cultivates.

Friday Nights @ the Library

The Friday Night coffee house events have drawn hidden talent out of the community, including this Native American flute player Jerry Mannheimer. Photos by Stuart Heady.

Tsaile, Arizona, is small and rural. There are no restaurants, not even a fast food joint; the gas station and the post office (housed in a doublewide trailer) are the customary “third places” for the residents to socialize. The physical status of the library at the community hearth prompted Beatty to try to think differently about how the library could complete connections with the wider community circle. Mindful of how the college libraries also serve as the public libraries for the non-student community, she wanted to extend the sharing of knowledge beyond the college boundaries and across generations. She hoped to encompass all manifestations, especially the oral tradition, which gets submerged by the library's predominantly textual world of books and documents. So, she and Humanities faculty member Erik Bitsui cooked up the idea of staging a coffee house event in the library on occasional Friday nights, a time when the building would otherwise be closed. Bitsui suggested including a potluck dinner to attract non-students and to promote conversation and mixing. Getting permission to make such radical use of the library was not automatic, partly due to the very real cautions around food and hantavirus. Once that hurdle was cleared, posters were printed to announce “an evening of storytelling and music.” Word circulated and the gatherings began.

Friday Nights @ the Library was an immediate success. The potluck dinner worked its socializing and mingling magic, setting the atmosphere for informal and supportive sharing. In order to attract maximum attention to the first event, the organizers lined up the volunteer participation of two headliners—published Navajo author Irvin Morris and faculty member Anthony Lee, Sr, president of the Diné Medicine Men's Association. It was no surprise that the audience received them with enthusiasm; however it made Beatty and Bitsui wonder what to do for the next act when they were operating with no financial backing. They decided to test the community response to open mic sessions. No one knew the extent of the talent hidden within the community until it was given an environment in which to flourish. Now that the tap has been opened, the flood of creativity seems unstoppable. There are poets, storytellers, singer-songwriters, Native American flute players, and comedians; there's a Tsaile Health Center doctor who plays a mean harmonica; there's a public school administrator who's writing a book on the Loneliest Highway in America and reads each new chapter as it's written, allowing the audience to travel along with him. Sometimes people just read a favorite poem. Some of the initially shy and hesitant performers are now regulars at the open mic, sounding very professional and poised; not only are they sharing creative work, they are also honing their performance skills. At the Friday Night events, the library achieves its mission with a heady vitality. It fulfills its social role, builds bridges across cultures and generations, supports multiple creative styles, and forms quality relationships with the community's next generation of leaders, thinkers, and performers.

A grant from the Arizona State Library is allowing the Friday Night coffeehouse to travel to some of the other campuses and centers. The first of these traveling events occurred recently at Window Rock. The exuberant responses there confirm the hunger for this kind of gathering: “Please can we have this every Friday night?” “Keep it going. Our community needs this kind of opportunity!” “More! More! More! Lots more!”

Building Bridges

Hurley tells a story of an interaction with a patron that symbolizes the kind of bridge-building the library seeks to attain between past and future and between native tradition and western technology:

A few years ago, an older woman came in and asked for Hurley's help in finding pictures of the Space Shuttle. She was so specific about the angle of the craft and the position of the sun that Hurley thought it was a known item search for a photograph she'd seen somewhere. It turned out that the woman was weaving a traditional Navajo pictorial rug—literally weaving the past with the future by depicting people engaged with the earth and people zooming through space. She had a mental image of how the Space Shuttle would depict the future in her tapestry. She used the library as a resource for her artwork, finding (with Hurley's help) an assortment of images online. "None had quite the exact angle," admits Hurley, "but she left happy."

Maybe someday, a weaver will depict the living tapestry being woven by the college system on the Navajo Reservation. It's very likely to have a circular motif inclusive of the entire community with the library at the very center, where the fire of knowledge is kindled and dispersed across time and space.

Visit the Kinyaa'áanii Charlie Benally Library website at: http://library.dinecollege.edu/
Find more photos of the Friday Nights @ the Library events at: http://library.dinecollege.edu/spotlight/fridays/guests.html.