Home  A Printz of a Man

Photo by
Chuck Kneyse
(COPYRIGHT PAGE)
This publication can be purchased from the
YOUNG ADULT LIBRARY SERVICES ASSOCIATION,
a division of the AMERICAN LIBRARY ASSOCIATION
50 East Huron Street, Chicago, Illinois 60611
ISBN: 0-8389-7913-0
Copyright (symbol) 1997 by the American Library Association. All
rights reserved except
those which may be granted by Sections 107 and 108 of the
Copyright Revision Act of
1976.
A special thanks to:
* Lillian Gerhardt, editor-in-chief of School Library Journal, whose
generous
donation purchased the rights to reprint the photo of Mike Printz
taken by Chuck
Kneyse.
* School Library
Journal, for permission to reprint "An Unusual
Contribution: The
Work of 1993 Grolier Award Winner Mike Printz, " an interview by Roger Sutton.
* Voices of Youth Advocates
(VOYA), for permission to reprint "A Big Fat Hen; A
Couple of Ducks," by Mike Printz.
* KASL News , the newsletter of the Kansas Association of School Librarians,
for
permission to reprint Mike Printz, 1937 - 1996, by Joanne
Proctor.
Printed in the United States of America
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Dedication
Editor ’s Forward
- Dorothy M. Broderick
Life Summary: Michael L. Printz, May 27, 1937 - September 29, 1996
- Judy Druse
Introductory Essay: A Splendid Man - Marilyn Miller
Photographs
Section I: Mike Speaks for Himself
A Big Fat Hen; A Couple of Ducks, June 30, 1991 - Mike Printz
An Unusual Contribution: The Work of 1993 Grolier Award Winner
Mike Printz, an Interview - Roger Sutton
Section II: Kansans Remember
A People Man - Diane Goheen
Mike Printz: Master Teacher - Robert Grover
The Topeka West Oral History Projects - Allen W. Hartzell
A Broom Closet Library and a Sad Silk Flower Arrangement: Life
with
Mike Printz - Barbara Lynn
Mike Printz, 1937-1996 - Joanne Proctor
Section III: From Across the Nation
Caring Enough to Give Your Very Best: Mike Printz as a Leader
-
Michael Cart
Remembering Mike - Mary K. Chelton
A Man of Consequence - Chris Crutcher
BBYAer par Excellence - Sally Estes
My Favorite Fan - Gary Paulsen
A Man with Roots - Hazel Rochman
The Mike Printz Theory of Collection Development, Life and a
Few
Other Matters - Pam Spencer
A Passion for Excellence - Deborah Taylor
A Respecter of Kids, A Lover of Books - Jeanne Vestal
Section IV: Tributes
1993 Grolier Foundation Award Citation
1997 ALA Council Memorial Resolution
Epilogue: A Poem - Lynda Miller
DEDICATION
This book is being published by the Young Adult Library Services
(YALSA) as a tribute to one
of its most beloved and highly respected members, Mike Printz.
Many of Mike's closest friends were also colleagues. In the essays
that follow you will discover
how Mike touched their lives both professionally and
personally.
Mike was a collector. He collected Fiesta dishes, teddy bears,
books, and friends. Mike loved
not only the collecting but also the displaying and promoting of
what he collected.
Despite his talents as a collector, Mike was the first to admit he
wasn't very good at collecting
money. He often said that he kept his money in circulation because
it was good for the economy.
YALSA believes in keeping the memories of Mike in circulation
because it's good for the
profession.
Linda Waddle
Colleague, Friend, YALSA Deputy Executive Director
Editor ’s
Forward
I cannot predict how many tears will be shed by readers of this
festschrift, but I can
tell
you that the majority of contributors shed buckets of tears as
they struggled to put on
paper what Mike Printz meant in their lives.
No one contributor knows all of the other contributors:
Mike’s network was vast
and varied. Some of the contributors know each other and dislike
each other: Mike
collected individuals and if some of them did not like each other,
it never influenced how
he felt about them.
Everything you need to know to become a great youth services
librarian you can
learn from this volume. Respect the young people you work with;
challenge them to
perform, and they will. Add technology, not because it is the
current fad, but because it
offers library users more and better tools to help with their
research papers and personal
information needs. Most of all, read and love books and appreciate
the authors and
editors who create them.
Be active in your state and national association and inspire
others to do the same.
For many, when there was no other good reason for attending an
American Library
Association Annual Conference or Midwinter Meeting, the thought of
seeing Mike was
enough to make the trip worthwhile.
September 28, 1996, was a very gray day in Kansas. As I stood in
the backyard
after dinner, trying to ease some of the tension that had built
each day following Mike’s
operation on September 9, the clouds in the east magically
disappeared and the full
moon shone brightly. Then, gradually, a dark shadow crept across
the moon, little by little
blocking out the light until the eclipse was complete. I could not
help but think that Mike
Printz was, for many of us, our full moon, and that little by
little he was being removed
from our lives. The next day, in the early afternoon, Mike's
partner called to say Mike had
died.
John Donne did not know the half of it when he wrote that each
man’s death
diminishes us: we were more than diminished, we were devastated.
And still are.
Dorothy M. Broderick, Editor
---------------------------------
Dorothy M. Broderick is the retired editor and co-founder of
Voices of Youth Advocates
( VOYA)
magazine.
Life Summary
Michael L. Printz
May 27, 1936-September 29, 1996
Judy Druse
Mike Printz gave a piece of his heart to all his students, friends
and colleagues. No
wonder it gave out after a short fifty-nine years. Mike died
September 29, 1996, from
complications following heart surgery.
Michael L. Printz was born May 27, 1937, at Clay Center, Kansas,
the son of Floyd
and Hazel Printz. He graduated from Clay Center Community High
School in 1955;
earned his bachelor of arts degree in English and history from
Washburn University of
Topeka, Kansas, in 1960; and received his master's degree in
library science from
Emporia State University in Kansas in 1964. Mike would, in later
years, return to
Washburn University as an adjunct assistant professor in the
Department of English
where he taught a hugely popular "Literature for Young
Adults" course and to
Emporia
State University where he was a visiting professor in the Graduate
School of Library
and Information Management.
In 1970 Mike served as president of the Kansas Association of
School Librarians
and in 1972 as a regional director for the American Association of
School Librarians, a
division of the American Library Association (ALA). However, the
ALA division in which
he was most active, where he found kindred spirits, was the Young
Adult Library
Services Association (YALSA). He served on the YALSA's Best Books
for Young Adults
Committee from 1982 to 1985 and again from 1993 to his untimely
death; he was the
1985 committee chair. It was during Mike's first term on this
committee that he became
nationally recognized as an expert on literature for young adults.
Publishers sought his
counsel, and librarians flocked to conferences to hear him speak.
The attention
overwhelmed him--he was just doing what came naturally, sharing
with others his love
of books, reading and working with young adults.
First and foremost, Mike was a teacher. Fresh out of college, he
accepted a
position as a part-time English teacher, part-time librarian at
Onaga (Kans.) High
School. Mike loved working with the young people, but not
necessarily in a classroom
environment. In 1963, he moved on to become a librarian at
Highland Park (Kans.)
High School; and then in 1969 he moved across town to become a
librarian at Topeka
West (Kans.) High School, where he remained for the next
twenty-five years until his
retirement in 1994. After retiring, Mike worked as a marketing
consultant and selection
specialist for Econo-Clad Books of Topeka, Kansas.
Mike was known for his ability to stimulate his students' love of
learning. That's
because he never stopped learning himself. Although he often swore
he wouldn't touch
a computer, he was one of the first school librarians to
demonstrate and incorporate
online searching into his research skills curriculum. He always
said that he wanted to
teach his students two things: how to follow directions and how to
work independently.
He taught much more. He taught caring, responsibility and pride.
The projects he
initiated at Topeka West High School reflect this.
In 1976 Mike pioneered a Kansas Oral History Project in which
students created
video documentaries about a famous Kansan or event in Kansas
History. These oral
history projects sometimes sent students across the country for
interviews, a fearful
trek for some who had hardly ever left home. Mike encouraged,
sometimes scolded,
but always believed in his students. This trust and respect
carried them beyond their
apprehensions. These students not only learned of their own proud
heritage, but they
became scholars who donated their projects to the Kansas State
Historical Society for
future researchers to use. One of the proudest moments of Mike's
life was a reunion
with his oral historians.
Mike also initiated an author-in-residence program at Topeka West
to give
students an opportunity to work with and learn from noted authors
like Gary Paulsen
and Chris Crutcher. The Mike Printz Author-in-Residence Program is
now in its
fourteenth year. In addition, Topeka West students and faculty
still celebrate an annual
Ethnic Week, a cross-curricular, literature-based study initiated
by Mike.
Because of his pioneering work with young adults, Mike won many
awards and
honors over the years. In 1988 he was named the District Teacher
of the Year for
Topeka Unified School District 501. Topeka West students and
faculty celebrated with
a special "Mike Printz Day." In 1993 Mike won the prestigious
Grolier Award from ALA.
Gary Paulsen's book, The Island,
is dedicated to him. Posthumously, the Topeka
West
High School library has been named in Mike's honor. As much as
Mike appreciated
these awards and honors, he reveled more in the accomplishments of
his friends, and
most in the minor successes of a previously-unsuccessful
student.
Mike respected the youth with whom he worked and hoped they would
in turn
respect themselves. He believed in treating others the way you
wanted to be treated,
regardless of age. He made his students, his friends and his
colleagues feel important.
He modeled what it means to care. He gave much of himself.
Mike Printz represents the BEST of the profession. The
Topeka Capital-Journal,
October 1, 1996, said "Mike Printz was a kind of travel agent for
life. He took Topeka
students through books and oral history projects, on wondrous
journeys they might
never have experienced without his enlightened guidance."
Mike was a pushover for a clever phrase or passage in a book. One
of his
favorites was from the chapter "Confer with Sages Here" in
The Natives Are Always
Restless by Gerald Raftery (Vanguard,
1964). One of these lines reads, "But there are
moments when I realize how lucky I am to be a librarian." Mike
knew how lucky he was;
and those of us who knew him count ourselves lucky too. His death
leaves a void in the
hearts of us all.
----------------
Judy Druse is the Curriculum Media Librarian at Washburn
University, Topeka, Kansas.
Introductory Essay
A SPLENDID MAN
Marilyn Miller
Mike Printz and I were friends for nearly forty years. During
those nearly
forty years, we were also professional colleagues. Both parts of
our lives were intricately
entwined. We shared professional aspirations, accomplishments,
plans, philosophy, and
activities. We shared personal triumphs, failures, health
disasters, families, and
compatible friends. I left Topeka, Kansas, in l967 where our ten
years of friendship and
professional collaboration began and flourished. I left for other
locations, types of jobs,
and challenges. Mike moved to Topeka from Onaga, KS, in l962. He
remained there as
a building level school librarian until l993 when he retired.
Throughout his career Mike
was contented with his job as building level school librarian and
the frequent
opportunities that were presented to him to teach library science
courses for two
Universities and to work as a consultant to Econo-Clad Books. He
found deep,
continued fascination with young people and helping them learn was
for him a never
ending challenge, opportunity, and source of great
satisfaction.
Distance was never a problem in our long association. The phone
was our
communication medium of choice. We never wrote. In fact until l993
we didn't
exchange cards at Christmas. I would send him a card each year,
and once he
received it he would telephone to wish us a Merry Christmas. Just
one of his quirks he
would remind me. Sharing time at ALA, my occasional trips to
Topeka, and his rare
trips to North Carolina, where I eventually settled and which was
the home of excellent
flea markets that he so dearly loved, gave us opportunities for
those sit down
reminiscing times that were so very important to us.
The major problem of trying to summarize the early years of Mike's
and our
relationship is that I do not, unbelievable as it may seem,
remember when or where I
met Mike. (The absence of a diary or a journal is the loss of
memory, so specific dates
are a problem.) I assume we met at a regional meeting of the
Kansas Association of
School Librarians since Onaga and Topeka were in the same region.
I assume we
struck up a conversation because we were both relatively new
school librarians,
younger than most who attended those meetings, and we were both
high school
librarians who enjoyed our schools immensely. Mike has spoken
publicly and written
about being a student of mine. I don't remember that either. The
first course I taught for
the then Emporia State Teachers College was in children's
literature, and I was so
numb with what I didn't know that I am afraid I remember only one
face from that
course, and it is not Mike's. Wherever and whenever, the
groundwork was established
for a long friendship.
Mike was an intense young man. He was energetic, outgoing, loyal,
and easy to
get to know. He had eclectic interests, and his ability to
demonstrate commitment to
friends, students, colleagues, and his work as a librarian was
inspiring. More than any
of these things, though, was his deep passion for reading and his
fervent belief that
reading would help young people grow and develop. He believed in
the power of the
book to change lives. He believed that young people could develop
a wider
understanding of their lives and their world. He believed that
books would bring to
young readers solace, understanding, inspiration, insight,
courage, and an appreciation
for life's experiences that they might or might not face
themselves. None of those
characteristics changed over the years. They just intensified. In
addition, however, as
Mike grew older his deep complexities as a human being became more
evident. And
as he became more determined to have only the best for his school
library, he
demonstrated interesting techniques to gain the support he needed
in times of forced
economies or priorities of others for expenditures and
allocations. But those are stories
for others to tell.
Shortly after the Kansas State Plan for administration of Title II
of the
Elementary and Secondary Act was accepted by the U.S. Office of
Education, I went to
Mike, who by then was in his fourth year at Highland Park High
School in Topeka, and
informed him that as consultant for Title II, I needed a school
library that could
demonstrate the multi-media approach. "O.K. he responded, "what do
I need to do."
Within a very few weeks, Mike, with the help of the custodial
staff and the cooperation
of his wonderful principal, Earl Volkland, had developed a very
basic, elementary, but
workable audiovisual center. They had taken a library table,
partitioned into sections so
he had individual stations for a tape recorder, a phonograph with
ear phones, a
filmstrip projector, a sound filmstrip projector, an 8mm film
cartridge projector, and a
slide carousel projector. And, of course, being Mike, and unafraid
of striking out, he
began immediately to structure with teachers the assignments and
activities that would
get those stations used by students. I can hear him now talking
excitedly about the way
the physical ed. students were using the 8mm projector to study
various techniques in
track and field, how the home economics students were using
filmstrips to study the art
of table setting. Highland Park became one of the first
demonstration high school
library media centers to help implement the State's ESEA plan, and
Mike began to
write about their experiences, host visiting librarians and
administrators, and doing
some speaking at workshops and conferences in the State.
Mike always took his multi-media responsibilities and
opportunities seriously,
and those opportunities one day would turn into the demanding and
rewarding oral
history project that would send Topeka West students all over the
country interviewing
famous Kansans. However, in spite of the sophistication he gained
with multi-media,
he was quick to admit another quirk. He always claimed to me that
he would never
learn how to operate a 16mm projector. "I have to draw the line,
somewhere," he
vowed. According to conversations many years later, he still had
not given in. No
matter, however, how far he plunged into the "multi-media concept"
and how
competent and creative he became in the librarian's roles of
teacher and curriculum
consultant, it was always the books and the power of reading that
most quickly turned
Mike into a passionate advocate for learning and experiencing
through resources.
Mike's focus on books would inevitably be enlarged by his
discovery of the
people who wrote the books he loved to present to kids. I found it
great fun to watch
him work with authors. Once he realized the rewards of knowing and
sharing with
authors, Mike began to "discover" authors whom he believed had
powerful messages
for young readers. He joyously supported these authors with his
friendship, his counsel
about young readers when it was sought, and his introduction of
their work to his
students. Perhaps his first discovery was Joanne Greenberg. His
process for
identifying great young adult authors grew more sophisticated with
time, but this first
discovery was great fun.
One evening Mike came rushing into our living room waving a copy
of Booklist.
"Let me show you a wonderful book. It is my perk choice." I, of
course, did not know
what a perk choice was. A perk choice was a little reward system
Mike had developed
for the book collection. After he would finish making a book order
and listing everything
he was supposed to for the curriculum and for his good books for
young adults
collection, he would go through the Booklist adult fiction section and order
a book with
a title that fascinated him.
"Look here," he pointed to a book written under the pseudonym
Hannah Green.
The title was I Never Promised You a
Rose Garden. I don't remember being as
impressed with either the title or the annotation, but when it
arrived I dutifully opened it
and was grabbed, as Mike had been, from chapter one with its
tremendous promise for
young adult readers. Mike got busy, trying to find out the
author's real name, writing
reviewers and the publishers urging them to recommend this book
for young adult
readers. Mike eventually found the author's real name and located
her. They
corresponded, and when Joanne Greenberg came to Topeka a few years
later to do
research at the Menninger Clinic for a new book that was
eventually published as In
This Sign, Mike learned the genuine
pleasure that flows from a friendship with a
creative artist. That experience led him to a lifetime of many
great friendships with
those who write for adolescents.
Mike's book knowledge quickly gained him a seat on The Kansas
Reading
Circle. The Kansas Reading Circle was a book selection and supply
project of the
Kansas State Teachers' Association. The book selection committee,
composed of
teachers, librarians, and administrators, selected current titles
each year for all levels
of Kansas schools. The books selected were presented in a catalog
and jobbed to the
schools. Mike's wide reading, wonderful ability to select those
titles that would speak to
adolescents, and his persuasive advocacy made a tremendous impact
on that
committee in a time when publishing for young adults was beginning
to change, and
we needed to look at more adult titles for young adults. I think
Mike served longer on
that committee than any other person in the history of the Kansas
Reading Circle. As a
result of his work with the committee, his reputation began to
move even farther out
into the state.
I don't remember Mike and me ever arguing about anything. I was
miffed at him
one time, but I waited thirty-two years to tell him about
it--publicly, of course, when he
came to my retirement party in 1995 to lead the wonderful roast
prepared by my
colleagues. When I decided to leave my building-level position at
Topeka High School
in 1961 for a position with the State Department of Public
Instruction, I wanted Mike to
take the position. Topeka High School was a wonderful school with
undoubtedly the
most beautifully decorated, handsomely furnished, spacious library
in the Midwest if
not the entire country. A sympathetic administration, a talented
faculty, a wonderfully
diverse, talented student body, and an excellent curriculum would
support all the talent
and ability I knew he possessed. I felt that Mike and that
wonderful school deserved
each other. It was time for him to leave Onaga, expand his
influence, and have the
support to try all of the things he wanted to do. He would not
take the job. His response
to all of my pleas was, "I will not follow you."
It worked out that in l962, the following year, he did come to
Topeka. The
principal at Highland Park High School had met Mike, and when the
librarian
announced her retirement, Earl Volkland quickly turned to Mike. I
did get mine back
then, just a little, for Mike's not coming to my beloved Topeka
High School. One of two
things neither Mike nor I ever enjoyed was cataloging. Cataloging
was a necessary
evil. When he reported to Highland Park and began looking around,
he found an
appalling organizational mess. His predecessor cataloged the
books, prepared the
catalog cards, and then as she should have, she put the call
numbers on the back of
the book. The only problem was if the spine was not wide enough
for the call number,
she would just stop when she was out of spine. The result was an
interesting series of
collections within collections. I always reminded him that while I
did not like to catalog
either, he could have saved many months of grief if he had done
what I wanted him to
and taken the position at Topeka High for we had completed
recataloging of Topeka
High's collection and none of our books were spineless.
Mike revolutionized the library at Highland Park High School. He
took a library
that cried for attention and fixed it. He reached out to students
and faculty who, within a
few weeks, realized that they were participating in a revolution.
Before he left for
Topeka West High School where his career really came to fruition,
Mike built a
program, embraced the emerging multi-media approach to learning,
designed and
presided over a redesigned and renovated library, and realized his
desire to become
an essential, integral part of the school, or, as we liked to say
in those days, the "heart
of the school."
Mike moved to Topeka West in the early 1970s, and his achievements
there
were legion and will undoubtedly be described in other essays in
this tribute. He began
to be recognized in larger circles, and his maturity as a
librarian was enhanced and
expressed through his eventual activities in YALSA and the
increasing number of
opportunities to do workshops and speak at conferences. He truly
became an
inspiration and a model for others throughout the country.
I must note here almost parenthetically that I believe Mike's
defining moment as
a service-oriented librarian serving youth came from the
assassination of John F.
Kennedy. Mike was deeply affected by the presidential efforts of
Kennedy and by his
exhortations to service that he delivered so well to the American
people. Kennedy's
death was a shattering experience for Mike. I believe that in the
few months following
that tragedy, Mike's values coalesced and centered on what would
be the driving force
in his life--service to others through librarianship, counseling,
and unselfish friendship.
I cannot end this without sharing two of my very favorite stories.
Mike and I
reminisced about them often and shared them with others every
chance we had. Both
were to be in the travel book we were going to write someday for
novice and naive
travelers. The kind of travelers we were in our early years,
before, we would slyly
laugh, we became sophisticated world travelers. One chapter would
be entitled, "Oh,
Look at That Nice Little Closet in the Hotel Room Door." OR, "So
That is What Valet
Service Is."
Mike was in Chicago for some ALA event or other. He came in his
hotel room
the first night, and, as he took his coat off, he noticed a door
within the hotel room
door. He opened it and found a little closet-like space, and he
thought it was so nice to
have that extra closet especially for a wet coat. It would save
his clothes in the main
closet from getting damp. So, he hung it in the small closet in
the door.
It is important to know that the hotel was the Palmer House. And
it is important
to know that twenty-five years ago before there were so many
hotels and the necessity
for public relations and customer friendly behavior, hotel clerks
could be very snippy. It
always seemed to me in those days that the desk clerks at the
Palmer House were the
models for snippy behavior.
So, Mike hung his coat in the nice little closet in the door and
went to bed. In the
middle of the night, Mike heard someone rustling at his door. He
hears the little door
being opened, so he jumped out of bed, peeked out the door, and
saw a man going
around the corner with his coat over his arm. He threw on his
clothes, took the elevator
to the lobby and rushed breathlessly up to the desk and blurted
out his complaint that
his coat had just been taken from his room. The desk clerk looked
at him haughtily and
snippily told him about the purpose of the nice little closet in
the door. "I was so
embarrassed," Mike laughed. "I slunk back to the elevator, and at
the next floor, what
do you think? Jimmy Durante got on, and we had the best
conversation while we went
back up to my floor. I was so excited."
Another chapter was going to be "The Joys of Eating Cold Soup." I
took Mike to
his first Newbery-Caldecott banquet. The first course was
vichyssoise. We picked up
our spoons and began in unison to sip our soup. After a few sips,
Mike, who was sitting
to my left, said out of the right side of his mouth, "Marilyn, my
soup's cold." Without
either of us breaking sipping stride, I responded out of the left
side of my mouth, "Mike,
it's supposed to be." We dutifully finished our soup without
further discussion.
Just as we started our careers sharing experiences and good times,
we ended
our active careers sharing honors. To my absolute delight, Mike
was named the l993
recipient of the Grolier Award, and the presentation coincided
with my presiding as
president of ALA at that year's inaugural banquet. As we sat side
by side at the head
table, we talked about the wonderful times we had had in the
profession we shared and
the many outstanding and memorable people we had had the great
good fortune to
know. As Mike's beautiful Grolier citation was read, all I could
think of was that here
stood one of my great good fortunes and how truly I had been
favored to know and love
such a splendid man.
---------------------------------------------
Marilyn L. Miller is professor emeritus at the University of North
Carolina, at
Greensboro, Greensboro, North Carolina.
MIKE SPEAKS FOR HIMSELF
A Big Fat Hen; A Couple of Ducks
June 30, 1991
Mike Printz
The President's Program at the 1991 American Library
Association
Conference featured three youth librarians who make a difference
in the lives of the
young people they serve. Mike Printz, librarian at the Topeka West
(Kans.) High
School, was one of the honored speakers. As will be clear from his
remarks, Mike is
one of the most self-effacing professionals in the nation. Many
other librarians have
been prodded by such national leaders as Marilyn Miller and turned
a deaf ear. Great
librarians hear, and then act. Mike is one such great
librarian.
President Daugherty, Mr. Rogers, platform guests and colleagues, I
am delighted to
be here today. I have titled my remarks "Big Fat Hen and a Couple
of Ducks," and
when I finish I hope everyone understands why. When President
Richard Daugherty
telephoned and asked me to share with you, I was touched and
honored. I also began
to think about what success is and realized immediately that all
librarians have success
stories, and those stories happen because of many people and not
just one. In schools,
success comes to pass because of teachers, students,
administrators, authors,
publishers, parents, and a network of professional colleagues all
over the country. After
thirty-two years as a school librarian, I think I have begun to
develop a credo or a series
of beliefs I have about this profession. Like most of us I'd like
to take credit for this
philosophy, but I must give credit to those people who helped
develop a success story
that I mentioned earlier. I am fortunate that some of those folks
are here today, and
when I mention their names, I'd like for them to stand. One of my
earliest mentors was
Dr. Marilyn Miller (President-Elect of ALA) and she is responsible
for starting my
professional guidelines.
In the early 60s Marilyn was librarian at Topeka High School and
taught a summer
course in school librarianship at the library school in Emporia.
In addition to being a
very practical course, she instilled in me four ideas that have
guided me for these
years. She said that school librarians must keep abreast of
curriculum; we must adapt
to the new technologies; we must insist that service to students
and teachers come
before everything else, even filing cards in the card catalog; and
we must care about
those young adults who attend our school. She said that if we
followed those directives
that program success could result and that we might even change
one young adult's life
in a positive manner. I remember thinking to myself that I wanted
to change thousands
of lives, but she continued by saying that perhaps that is all one
person could do in this
life and that is to change another person's life positively.
Somehow, I have never
forgotten her words.
So here goes, here is my credo; here is what I believe about this
business of school
librarianship. I believe that every young adult can learn and the
library is the best place
for this to happen. In the library every student can find all
types of learning materials to
meet educational needs, be it the most sophisticated computer
software to seed
catalogs. In my early years I built strong collections of all
types of print and non-print
learning materials and was proud of the way they were being used.
Marilyn Miller was
now in Michigan and came to visit and, I don't want to say Marilyn
badgers, but she
subtly reminds you that you could be doing more. After viewing
classes using these
varied materials, she wondered where the audiovisual production
facility and video
editing bays were located. Thus came our next challenges and the
two were
established. Now, I also believe that if you spout philosophy, you
must follow with proof.
Not long after we established the production center, Bobby came
into our library lives.
Bobby was a fifth year senior in a three-year high school. He was
not a discipline
problem; he just didn't come to school on a regular basis. We even
joked in the faculty
lounge that he had more tenure than most of us. He had even
convinced the school
nurse that he had to take a pill each day after lunch and then
rest for thirty minutes on
the cot in her office. This went on for several weeks until the
nurse got suspicious and
had the white jelly-bean-pill tested. I don't think that even
President Reagan got that
many miles out of jelly beans. Bobby had one great love in life
and that was working on
cars. He got a job offer to be a mechanic, but, alas, he had to
have a high school
diploma. He needed one course to graduate and that course was
British Literature,
which, needless to say, was not his "cup of tea." His teacher or
saint, Marge Bakalar,
told him that she would be fair and explicitly outlined what he
must do to pass British
Literature. Before the study of Macbeth, the class came to the
library to prepare oral
reports concerning Elizabethan culture. Bobby's topic was
falconry. He had no idea
what falconry is and began to read. In one of those magical
moments in a kid's life,
something happened, and he became fascinated and looked up
everything we had on
the topic. After using National
Geographic Index, he found some fine photographs.
His
mother got involved and she worked for the Menninger Foundation,
which has a
collection of rare books on falconry. She was able to borrow
those, and Bobby used our
production equipment and prepared slides to accompany his talk. He
didn't attend
school for three days prior to his presentation date, but came to
the library to practice.
The day of the falconry report arrived as did Bobby with clean
fingernails, shampooed
hair, and new clothes. Off he went to the classroom with slide
projector and notes in
hand. He returned in about thirty minutes, and he had tears in his
eyes. Now, I think
you know Bobby well enough to know that tears were not common. I
was sure the
worst had happened, and I went to him and asked if the projector
blew a lamp or what.
"No," he said, "I got an `A’
and it is the first `A’
I've ever had." He graduated and went
on to his mechanic's job. About ten years later, I encountered
Bobby's mother in the
shopping mall and asked after her son. She informed me that Bobby
did not come
home from Vietnam and that she had just returned from Washington
where she saw his
name on the Wall. She said she didn't know that people could leave
things at the Wall,
or she would have taken one of his prize possessions. I told her
that I was going to
Washington for Midwinter ALA in a few weeks, and I would be glad
to take what she
wanted placed there. She brought the envelope to the library and
asked me not to open
it until I got to the Wall. I followed her instructions, and when
I opened the envelope, it
contained one 2" x 2" slide. I held it to the light, and it was
his title slide. It read:
"Falconry in Elizabethan Times: Directed, Written and Produced by
Bobby Fisher." I
remember wondering that day if his short life was the one that
Marilyn Miller had talked
about having been made better by a library experience.
Several years passed, and in 1985 Marilyn Miller came to visit
again, and I proudly
showed her our production and video facilities, and she seemed
impressed, but in her
true style wondered where the computers were located and what
online services we
offered. I remember thinking that we could not possibly find time
to add one more
service, until I went to visit Linda Waddle at the Cedar Falls
(Iowa) High School Library.
Linda, would you please stand?
We had both been members of the YASD's Best Books for Young
Adults
Committee, and she had given glowing reports of her successes with
Dialog, the online
searching computer program. Incidentally, Linda is now the deputy
executive director of
YASD. What a thrill and coup for that division's membership! She
demonstrated to me
how quickly students could get bibliographies and how some
databases even printed
out magazine and newspaper articles full text. This was in 1985,
and I decided to try a
search about a topic for which I could find no materials when a
student asked. It was
September and Dr. Robert Ballard, a native Kansan, had just
discovered the Titanic.
Using traditional research materials, I had located two newspaper
clippings from our
local paper. By using Dialog, I found fourteen citations--seven of
them full text. I was
sold! Never again would students leave empty handed. My principal
pulled some
secret, magic strings, and we introduced our students to Dialog in
the spring.
I believe that school libraries should provide opportunities for
young adults to get in
touch with their own local heritage and history by providing oral
history experiences.
During the Bicentennial of the nation I became concerned as to
what students would
remember about 1976 ten years hence. The commercialism bothered
me, and when I
came home one day and the Avon lady had left a catalog advertising
George and
Martha Washington hand soap, I decided to implement an oral
history program at
Topeka West. Briefly, the experience works like this. Seniors
enroll during their last
semester. They are paired with a partner and assigned a
significant event in Kansas
history or a famous Kansan. During the next three months they
prepare a thirty-minute
video documentary concerning their topic. They raise all their own
money, conduct
interviews and after spending the last month of school sharing
their findings with civic
groups and school classes, they present their projects to the
Kansas State Historical
Society for scholars and researchers to use in the future. After
sixteen years of these
projects, we have covered 160 topics involving almost 320 seniors.
They put to use
everything they have learned in eleven and one-half years and
travel all over the U.S.
to conduct interviews. In addition to what these students learn
about original research,
primary sources, raising money, traveling, and communicating, I
feel they begin to
realize that one can hail from Kansas or any state and do anything
they want with their
lives if they are willing to work hard enough and dream big
enough. I sometimes
wonder if Shannon, who developed a one-woman show concerning the
women in
Dwight Eisenhower's life, or J.R., who covered Indianapolis 500
winner Rick Mears and
chose racing as his profession, is the one Marilyn Miller spoke
about. Carol Wilson, our
school's Department of English chairperson, does oral history
projects with her students
who interview senior citizens about a multitude of subjects on a
one-to-one basis and
then the class desk-top publishes a booklet of the interviews.
believe that librarians, perhaps school and public together, need
to let young adults
know that we do not live alone on this continent or in this world.
Diane Goheen and I
are co-librarians at Topeka West High School and provide
multicultural experiences
that stretch across the curriculum and are based on literature.
Hazel Rochman, a young
adult reviewer for Booklist,
compiled a book describing what it is like to live
under
apartheid in South Africa. She compiled these autobiographical and
fiction vignettes by
South African writers when she was a school librarian and was
working with a social
studies teacher. That book, Somehow
Tenderness Survives, changed lives, attitudes,
and created an awareness in our school when the library sponsored
a week of
nationally known anti-apartheid speakers featured in library
forums, film festivals,
community speakers, student art and poetry exhibits based upon
that book. Our
principal provided fifty copies of Hazel Rochman's book several
months before the
week began so that classes in all areas of the curriculum could
have time to develop an
awareness. After the week was over our student council took out
all the Coke machines
in our school because Coca-Cola supports the South African
government. One student
got a summer job with the state department of education. Her task
was to help with
clerical jobs concerning a tri-state educational meeting being
held at a Holiday Inn in St.
Louis. She was to help make room reservations at the motel and
remembered that
Holiday Inn also supported the South African government. She told
her supervisor that
she could not morally make those reservations and she told him
why. He responded
and changed the location. Now I know that those two actions did
not hurt Coke or
Holiday Inn, but young adults spoke out about their feelings and
new-found awareness
because of an experience that had its beginning in the school's
library. In consequent
years we have covered the Holocaust, Native Americans, and plan,
at Mary K.
Chelton's gentle urging, to raise awareness about the Hmong people
in the United
States during the next school year. I couldn't help but wonder if
the young lady who got
the motel reservations changed might be the one Marilyn Miller had
in mind.
I believe that school librarians should provide young adults the
excitement of
working with authors. I met an author for the first time in 1960.
Her name was Loula
Grace Erdman, and she had written an historical novel,
Many a Voyage, about
Kansas
Senator Edmund G. Ross whose vote kept President Andrew Johnson
from being
impeached. She was in Topeka for a Kansas Association of School
Librarians
convention, and I was invited to a reception in her honor. The
lifelong love affair with
authors began. In fact, I was so taken with Ms. Erdman that I
stole one of her finished
cigarettes from the ashtray as a memento. I still have that
cigarette butt.
Eight years ago our school started the author-in-residence
program. We bring in
authors for an intense two-day writing workshop with approximately
thirty students who
have been selected by their composition instructors. For the first
half day no adults,
except the author, are allowed in the library reference room, and
the workshop begins,
and the same thirty students and the author really open up to one
another and begin to
write, critique, and share. The students have copies of two of the
author's books, which
they read before the workshop begins. The results have been
exciting and each author
has a special experience that comes from this adventure, and
sometimes they don't
even know about it. Time will allow me to tell about three
authors. Two of the three are
here today, and I would ask them to stand as I relate the impact
and force they have
had.
When Mr. Brooks was our guest, a new kind of supermarket
department store was
opening in Topeka. It is called Hypermart. He gave the kids a
writing assignment about
this grand opening and a lost child. The kids never forgot this
and continued to write all
year about openings of new stores with some unusual twist. In
fact, the creative writing
teacher picked up on this idea and used it extensively. Kevin, now
a student at Yale
University, called me long distance to tell me that his work had
been accepted for that
school's prestigious literary magazine and much of the credit was
due Bruce Brooks
who taught him to believe in his ability and encouraged him to
keep writing and
submitting until it reaped rewards. Another of our
writers-in-residence was Chris
Crutcher.
Chris Crutcher touched lives deeply and with a long lasting
effect. I don't think he
even knows about the two specific incidents that I will relate
because I haven't held up
my end of the deal. Bryce, an athlete, wasn't sure he should let
his peers know that he
is a poet. Bryce told me that Chris Crutcher gave him the courage
to submit his work,
and it was accepted for our school's literary magazine,
Calliope. I am supposed
to
inform Chris Crutcher. Then there is Hugh who loves to write, but
doesn't like the rest
school has to offer. He hasn't stuck with college, but lets me
know that he writes every
day as Chris told him he should do, and one of his most prized
possessions is a framed
book jacket of Running Loose
that his family gave him for graduation. Gary
Paulsen
can't be here today since he is appearing on another program at
this same time. There
was a freshman boy named Mark. He lived with his mother and waited
in the library
some nights for a ride home, and I introduced him to Gary's works.
By the time the year
was over he had read all the Paulsen books and was an avid fan. I
suggested he write
to Gary, and he did and got a nice answer. A couple of years later
Gary Paulsen was
our writer-in-residence. Mark attended the workshop, met Gary, and
graduated that
spring. He got a degree in film from a state university and landed
a job as an associate
director for the Women's Film Institute in Los Angeles. Mark comes
to see me when he
visits Topeka and last Christmas was no exception. I noticed he
had a terrible cough
and suggested he see a doctor. The final diagnosis was that one
lung was filled with
cancer and had to be removed. He had never smoked and is a runner.
Even then they
weren't sure they had gotten it all, and he faced thirty-two
radiation treatments, then
chemotherapy. I visited him regularly in the hospital, and one day
he asked me if his
friend Gary had written any new books. Incidentally, Mark was
really scared of what
was happening and what was about to happen with the radiation.
Woodsong, Gary's
autobiographical story concerning his life with his dogs and love
and life and death had
just been published. I took Mark a copy. When I returned to his
hospital room the next
day, we visited about a lot of topics and when I was ready to
leave, he handed me the
copy of Woodsong, looked me straight in the eye and said, "I'm not scared
anymore."
Mark is back at work in L.A. and is making it one day at a time
determined and
unafraid. I know these authors have changed lives. Programs like
the author-inresidence
do not happen without the cooperation of administrators,
publishers, and one
special person, Barbara Lynn.
It is with a lot of pride that I introduce Barbara. She is one of
my former library
science students, served as a school librarian for sixteen years,
is one of the leaders of
Young Adult Services Division and is the national library
consultant for the Econo-Clad
Company. Her influence in getting quality materials to young
adults all over the country
is exceptional and admirable. Econo-Clad is also a tremendous help
with the author-inresidence
program because Barbara helps with getting books for the
students,
complimentary copies of the author's books for the participants'
instructors, and usually
provides a fine dinner for the authors and the student
coordinators.
Finally, I believe that librarians must have a sense of humor. One
of my responsibilities
is to teach a two-week reference unit for all the sophomores in
our school. A straight
diet of indices, handbooks, special encyclopedias, dictionaries,
and electronic research
methods can get a little boring. If you've ever seen the musical
Gypsy, you will
remember that one of the strippers believes that everyone needs a
gimmick. Gypsy's
gimmick was strategically placed blinking lights.
I have two gimmicks that work with the young adults and reference
books. First, I
call them scholars, use scholarly terms, award scholar's crowns
for them to wear when
they answer difficult scholarly questions. They even autograph
these silly cardboard
crowns with names and graduation year. Second, I teach them how to
count to tenCmy
way. In over twenty years of teaching these books, I've only had
six people make it to
ten my way on the first try. I was going to have everyone here
today try to count, but
unfortunately time will not allow.
It goes something like this:
A big fat hen
A couple of ducks
Three brown bears
Four running hares
Five females sitting on a fence
Six simple simons standing on a stump
Seven Sicilian seamen sailing the seven Sicilian seas
Eight egotistical egoists echoing eight egotistical egoisms
Nine nimble pneumatic nudes naughtily nibbling gnat's knuckles and
nicotine
Ten tiny trumpeters tunefully tooting ten tiny tunes on their ten
tiny trumpets.
Years after graduation I see former students and they tell me how
much they
remember their sophomore scholar's unit. I tell them how thrilled
I am that they recall
and retain the information about Essay
and General Literature Index, Play Index,
Granger's Index to Poetry , etc., but,
alas, they remember a big fat hen and a couple of
ducks. Marilyn, I'm afraid no lives have been changed in this
experience.
So I don't know how successful the program has been or whether
I've changed that one
life yet, but I do know that my life has been enriched and blessed
by them and those
with whom I work. It works both ways, you know. I read something
the other day from
Robert Fulghum's book, It Was on Fire
When I Lay Down on It... that caused me to
reflect on what it is that I do.
"The story says that a traveler from Italy came to the French town
of Chartres to see
the great church that was being built there. Arriving at the end
of the day, he went to
the site just as the workmen were leaving for home. He asked one
man, covered with
dust, what he did there. The man replied that he was a stonemason.
He spent his days
carving rocks. Another man, when asked, said he was a glassblower
who spent his
days making slabs of colored glass. Still another workman replied
that he was a
blacksmith who pounded iron for a living. Wandering into the
deepening gloom of the
unfinished edifice, the traveler came upon an older woman, armed
with a broom,
sweeping up the stone chips and wood shavings and glass shards
from the day's work.
'What are you doing?' he asked. The woman paused, leaning on her
broom, and
looking up toward the high arches, replied, 'Me? I'm building a
cathedral for the Glory of
Almighty God.' I've often thought about the people of Chartres.
They began something
they knew they would never see completed. They built for something
larger than
themselves. They had a vision."
For school librarians it is the same. Most of us will never see
our students grow up.
But from where we are and with what we give, we serve a vision of
how the world ought
to be. The old woman of Chartres was a spiritual ancestor of
librarians who build
cathedrals to the human enterprise in our own quiet way. From us
young people learn to
live, with
knowledge and care.
Thank you for listening to me today.
An Unusual Contribution
The Work of 1993 Grolier Award Winner Mike Printz
An interview
Roger Sutton
Mike Printz, librarian at Topeka (Kans.) West High School and
visiting instructor at
Emporia State University, is the winner of the 1993 Grolier
Foundation Award. The
award is given by the American Library Association "to a librarian
who has made an
unusual contribution to the stimulation and guidance of reading by
children and young
people." Here, Printz discusses his long career as a school
librarian, some of the
programs he has implemented, and his successful strategies for
getting young adults
hooked on reading.
You began your career as a high school English teacher, and then
moved over to the
library. What made you stay with it for almost thirty-five
years?
PRINTZ: Well, probably a couple of
things. One, I like the diversity of being a school
librarian, so different from teaching five or six hours of English
in a day. As a librarian, I
have different things to do, different people to work with, and
different challenges each
hour of the day. Second, I've always loved to read and wanted a
chance to be able to
share that, to encourage young people.
What kinds of books were you getting kids to read in your early
days as a librarian?
PRINTZ: I especially remember the
challenge of getting boys to read, which wasn't an
easy task in those days. Henry Gregor Felsen wrote Street Rod (Random, 1953, OP)
and Hot Rod (Dutton, 1949, OP), books that had some interest for boys. Then
came
that wonderful Two and the Town
(Scribner, 1952, OP), which was, I think, one of
the
first stories that ever dealt with a high school couple who had to
get married. Felsen
maybe paved the way for young adult literature with that. Then for
girls there were I'm
not trying to be sexist at all, but there were a lot of writers.
There was Betty Cavanna,
Rosamond du Jardin, Beverly Cleary, and Seventeenth Summer (Dodd, 1942) by
Maureen Daly. Of course, I had them reading lots of adult books as
well.
I remember when I was on the Best Books for Young Adults Committee
(BBYA) with
you, one of your big crusades was to get a lot of adult books on
that list .
PRINTZ: It still is. I think we
sometimes forget the mature, sensitive young adult who
can handle adult books and has adult interests. I think it's
important that we find the
very best of those books and writers like Joanne Greenberg, for
example, who writes
books that really have an interest for mature young
adults.
What do you do to get kids to read?
PRINTZ: I think the greatest thing for
getting kids and books together is the booktalk.
You can publish booklists, you can do displays, you can do all
kinds of motivational
things to get people to read. But there's nothing as great or as
powerful as going into a
classroom with a cartful of books and talking for twenty minutes
about thirty or forty
books, then standing out of the way when students come up to get
them. Of all the
things I've ever done, that would have to be the greatest rush in
the world. To be able
to talk about books and turn somebody on; to have them come up and
almost pull the
book out of your hand or knock you over to pick up the book
because they want to
read.
What's your technique? Do you have any
secrets?
PRINTZ: Well, I don't know if there
are any secrets, but I try to find some element,
some area of a book that picks up on an emotion or an event in
somebody's life.
Something that touches a responsive chord in a student and makes
him or her want to
read about and share that kind of experience.
Do you let them check out the books right there when you
talk?
PRINTZ: They check them out right
there. You have to be able to let the books go
immediately that's the secret of a booktalk. I guess I'm not much
of a purist, but if the
books have just come in and you haven't had time to catalog them
and put your little
stamp and your tag on the back, you need to be able to let kids
take them anyway. I
even get them to sign the inside of the book jacket. That way they
can take the books
immediately. They love the fact that the books are new and
nobody's read them before.
You really caused a revolution at Best Books meetings when you
started bringing in,
very systematically, comments from kids. Until then it had been
kind of hit or miss,
where someone would say, "Oh, one of my kids read it, they liked
it, they didn't like it."
But you really started collecting what these kids had to say about
these books. How
did you do that?
PRINTZ: Well, I think that's very
important. Some friends that I teach with are lovers of
books, they let me come into their classrooms with books that have
been nominated for
BBYA, and I do some booktalks. I say, "You know, we really need
your input. I'd like
you to read some of these books and then I want you to write some
comments for me.
And when I share them at the Best Books meeting I'll say your
name. I'll say this is
what Mary thinks or this is what Joe thinks about this book." You
have to make kids feel
important. That's one way I do it. Another way is through an
independent study
program. I enroll six or seven kids a semester who do nothing but
read for an hour a
day. They come into the library at the beginning of the semester
and I give them some
guidelines. Then they read the books that are nominated and write
for me all semester
about what they think of them.
What do you think of their comments?
PRINTZ: I respect them very highly.
Kids need to feel that you respect them as equals
when it comes to their comments about books that have been written
about them or for
them. They need to know that what they say, what they write about
a book, is important
and that I trust their opinions as much as I do those of my
professional peers.
How do you establish relationships with
teachers?
PRINTZ: The number one thing you need
to say to teachers is, "Get rid of those awful,
awful textbooks." Textbooks are geared to the average student, and
I'm not sure who
the average student is. We need to throw that textbook out the
window or only use it to
start with. Let it be the guide to getting kids involved in all
sorts of reading and sharing
and research. For example, I'm doing this project right now with a
mathematics teacher.
He came to the library one day and said, "I get so tired of
teaching math the same way
all the time, but everybody says I have to do this to get through
the textbook by the end
of the year. I want to branch out. I wish there were a collection
of science-fiction math
stories I could give to my students. Then they could come up with
some research topics
from the stories." Not being a strong science fiction person, I
called Sally Estes at
Booklist, and she said, Of course
there's Mathenauts (Arbor
House, 1987)." We bought
a class set of the book, and it's been amazing to see what the
kids reading those short
stories have come up with. They are doing all kinds of research.
They get on Dialog
and get into some really scholarly professional journals. They get
articles and books.
With interlibrary loan the way it is today, we can get almost
anything they need. To see
that excitement happen in a mathematics class has been a real joy
for me. You don't
usually think there's much that the math department and the
library can do together.
When you started your career, we were dealing with books and
magazines, and now
you have information in all kinds of formats. How did you
introduce all that at Topeka
West?
PRINTZ: Probably kicking, and
screaming, to begin with. One of the people who's had
the greatest influence on my life as a librarian is Marilyn L.
Miller. One of the first
courses I took in library school at Emporia State was with her.
And, I remember so well
when she told us that we could not even comprehend what was going
to happen to
information in our lifetime. No matter what it takes, you have to
be on top of all the
different formats of information. You need to help the kids find
the information they
need and you also need to teach them how to select the very best
of that information.
To wade through the materials that may not be good and develop
some criteria for
selecting the very best. For example, there's one database in
Dialog called Papers,
which has full-text retrieval of thirty or thirty-five daily
newspapers from the mid-1980s
through today. Students can enter a topic and get a bibliography
of articles, and they
can have those articles printed out for them within minutes. Then,
they have to be able
to sort through all that.
I have to give credit to another person, Linda Waddle, who has
long been an
advocate of Dialog and online searching for high school students.
I went up to visit her
library in Iowa in 1985, about two days after the Titanic was rediscovered
(incidentally
by a Kansan). I had a kid come into the library who wanted to read
something about
that, and I found two newspaper clippings from local papers. So
Linda said, "I want to
show you how to use Dialog." She got me into that newspaper
database, I entered
"Titanic" and the name of the Kansan who had led the expedition,
and I had something
like thirty-four articles in five minutes.
I knew that somehow I had to convince the people back home that we
needed this. I
said to our principal, "We have to have this. We have to have this
tomorrow." And,
bless his heart, he said, "Well, I've got a little money stored
away here that I made from
pop sales and a couple of other things. We'll try it for a year."
And it started. You have
to work with administrators that way. You have to convince them
that this is something
the kids need. At the end of the year he said, "We can't go
backward. We have to
continue this."
You said that the discovery of the Titanic was "incidentally" by a
Kansan, " but I know
that's not incidental to you at all. Some years ago, you wrote an
article for SLJ about
your Kansas oral history project ("In the YA Corner," [April
1984]: 33-34). Could you talk
about that?
PRINTZ: I sometimes think the way we
teach history to students is all wrong. We start
with world history at the sophomore level, and then junior year
they all take a course in
American history, and if time allows we have local history. I
think we need to work that
around the other way and start with our own roots.
The oral history project began in 1975 as we were getting ready to
celebrate the
bicentennial of this country. Our school district had some money
ready to give to a
school to celebrate the occasion with innovative programs, so we
developed a program
whereby seniors could enroll in a course in oral history. They
would select a famous
Kansan or an event in Kansas history and go out and interview
anybody they could find
who knew anything about that topic. Then they pulled all that
together into a thirty-
minute documentary. We started with audiotape recorders and then
went to videotape.
Over the sixteen or seventeen years we've had that project, we've
probably covered
about two hundred topics with three hundred or four hundred kids
traveling all over the
United States to do their interviews. More kids researched Kansans
famous Kansans
than they did events in Kansas history, and I think that's very
important. Kids who grow
up in the Midwest think that to make it big they've got to be on
either coast. I contend
that if you're willing to dream big enough and work hard enough,
you can do anything
you want to right here in Topeka, Kansas.
When the projects were finished, we gave them to the Kansas State
Historical
Society, and they've been there for scholars to use. I think it's
great for kids to realize
that something they did in 1983 or '84 might be used fifty or
sixty years from now. I
think that gives them a sense of their place in
history.
What kind of a staff do you have at Topeka
West?
PRINTZ: I have a wonderful staff; I'm
very fortunate. I have two people who have been
with me for years, Kay Ping and Darlene Luellen. They are library
clerks, and they have
a real understanding of kids. Kay has worked with me for many
years on the oral
history program, working with the students on the editing and that
sort of thing. And
Darlene has an uncanny knack for finding kids who hurt in some way
and reaching out
to them with a lot of love and care.
I also have an outstanding co-librarian, Diane Goheen. She and I
really work well
together. I'm kind of an idea person and not really good with
details. She is good with
details and is also an idea person. She remembers kids' names,
something I'm not
really good at, and once kids have worked with Diane, they come
back to her again and
again. The first year she was there, Hazel Rochman's
book Somehow Tenderness
Survives: Stories of Southern Africa (Harper, 1988)
came out. I read it and said, "Diane,
you've got to read this book."
She came back after she read it and said, "We've got
to
do something with this book in the school." So we went down to the
principal and said,
"Dr. Frazer, we know that every year in this school there's an
ethnic week, and we don't
do a lot with it, but we'd like to volunteer to take over that
week."
We had the whole school read the book, any class we could. I'm
talking not just
language arts and social studies classes, which read it eagerly,
but we had speech and
home ec. classes read it, and forensics classes did dramatic
readings. We did a schoolwide
program on apartheid and were able to bring in some speakers
Hazel
recommended. I think if nothing else happened, we at least created
an awareness of
what apartheid was. Our student congress passed a bill that Coke
machines would be
taken out of Topeka West High School because of the Coca-Cola
Company's presence
in South Africa.
Another thing that happened was that the oral history kids who
traveled all over the
United States made a resolution they would never again stay at
Holiday Inns, because
Holiday Inn supported the South African government. One young
black girl in our
school who was very moved by Hazel's book got a job that summer
with the state
Department of Education as a clerical aide to earn some money to
go to college. The
state education departments of Kansas, Missouri, and Iowa, I
believe, were planning a
meeting in St. Louis, and her responsibility was to make the hotel
reservations at a
Holiday Inn there. On her second day on the job, she, to quote
Shakespeare, "screwed
her courage to the stickingplace," went to her supervisor and
said, "I cannot morally
make these hotel reservations." She told him why, and they changed
the place of the
meeting. Well, I know that didn't hurt Holiday Inn and didn't hurt
Coke, but the kids were
taking some stands that I hadn't seen since the '70s when they
were involved with the
environment, Vietnam, things like that. They were taking some real
stands on issues.
And I think that's very important.
What kind of an ethnic mix do you have at Topeka
West?
PRINTZ: Topeka, the home of
Brown vs. Board of Education, has a neighborhood
school system. And, you go to school in the neighborhood in which
you live, although a
minority student may go to any school he or she wishes until a
racial balance has been
reached. Of the 1,300 students, I imagine maybe two hundred or
three hundred are
minorities.
Do you see any tension because of that?
PRINTZ: Yes, I do. I've noticed it
more in the last couple of years, but I'm not sure the
tension is because of the minorities .
I see tension because of violence and weapons. It
bothers me that in the last year we've had eleven or twelve
students expelled from our
school because they were carrying loaded guns on campus. In fact,
our school system
has formed a separate school called "The Second Chance School."
When you are
caught with a loaded weapon you are expelled from your school and
go to that school.
There's an unbelievable lady there who teaches sixteen to eighteen
kids. They go there
for a semester a year, and they come back to their original
school. If they are caught
with a gun or anything again they are expelled, I suppose,
permanently.
It bothers me that we've come to that. I worked with some kids who
had come back
from the Second Chance program, and I think I failed them in some
way because I
wasn't able to spend the kind of time with them they needed. But,
I learned a lot from
them. I learned a lot about what it is to be alone, what it is to
be ostracized, what it is to
be watched by the school security people and administrators, what
it's like to be
watched by other kids' parents. And, I know they did something
wrong. But sometimes
it's hard to say "I did something wrong, and I'd like to try to be
better" when you don't
have a lot of support to be better.
I've always believed that to work with kids you have to let them
know you respect
them. And if you respect them, then perhaps they will respect
themselves, which I think
is something very, very important. And, they will give that
respect back to you. I think
you get what you give. I believe that very strongly. I think it's
simple. You just treat
people the way you want to be treated. No matter how old they
are.
Roger Sutton is editor of Horn Book
and formerly executive editor of The Bulletin of the
Center for Children's Books.
KANSANS REMEMBER
A People Man
Innumerable words can describe Mr. Mike Printz, Topeka West
Librarian for twentyfour
and a half years. Mike was many things to many people, and various
people
associated with Topeka West remember him for a myriad of
reasons.
Students who were at Topeka West during Mike's tenure remember his
wit and faith
in them as people. He established the Oral History program that
sent students
throughout the continental United States to conduct research and
interviews of the
subjects while today some of us have difficulty sending students
across town for
information. Mike's faith in these young adults prompted him to
expect the most from
them and most often see his expectations met. Many nights, though,
Mike paced the
floor waiting for the oral historians' obligatory call summarizing
their day in the distant
locale. Mike's students, too, remember his orneriness. More than
once I heard him call a
trusted library proctor to his desk on the morning a vacation was
to begin at 3 p.m. With
all seriousness, he instructed the proctor to proceed to the main
office, turn on the
intercom, and announce that school was now dismissed! His "Couple
of Hens" ditty has
become immortalized with sophomores who experienced his "indices
unit" during their
required English class.
Professionally, Mike led several of us in the library profession.
As an enrollee in one
of his adjunct courses, I first encountered Mike Printz. During
the initial class meeting, it
was evident that Mike possessed a rare charisma. He exhorted us to
reach to creative
heights and strive for superiority in the field. Oddly enough his
exhortations were never
voiced as such; rather, it was a rare student who did not reach
into the depths of him or
herself to retrieve the innate excellence Mike was convinced each
individual possessed.
Mike's passion for the library and learning was matched by his
compassion for people.
While he was always eager to work with the bright student, he
seemed to have a
special place in his heart for the less appealing teen. He was a
master at finding just
the book for the loner who visited the media center at lunch and
then suggesting the
title to that person. The student being treated for lymphoma, the
student serving time in
the detention center, the first-year teacher nearing his or her
wit's end, or the parent
suffering through the loss of a child would very likely receive a
visit from "Mr. Printz"
bearing books to help ease the pain. Always, he would end these
visits with his
trademark, "Well, bless your heart."
His concern for others was global. Hazel Rochman's Somehow Tenderness
Survives prompted a campus-wide study
of apartheid in South Africa. Through his
many connections, we were able to elicit the attention of the
library world at least for a
brief time to the suffering in South Africa; VOYA, ALA, and Indiana University
Bloomington provided avenues for us to keep apartheid in the
forefront of many
librarians' minds.
From establishing the Oral History Program, to working with Ethnic
Week studies,
to enhancing curriculum projects, Mike's energy seemed limitless.
Mike brought ideas
back from professional meetings he attended and often found a
teacher willing to
implement those innovations at Topeka West. A teacher might come
to Mike with a
kernel of an idea, and before that teacher knew it, a full-blown
project was underway.
Give Mike a mole hill and you would soon possess a mountain in
terms of ideas and
information. Ownership was always given to the teacher with the
original idea germ, but
it was general knowledge that the "ideas man" had the real patent
on the undertaking.
Always humble, Mike's goal was to empower students and
teachers.
That Mike Printz was extremely instrumental in developing the
Topeka West Media
Center and was a leader in the library profession cannot be
denied. Overall, though, I
feel Mike would most appreciate being remembered for his "people
skills." He was a
compassionate man with a gift for enabling others to pursue their
own gifts. He is
missed by former students, parents, and colleagues.
--------------------------------------
Diane Goheen was Mike’s long time co-librarian at Topeka West High School where
she remains as librarian.
Mike Printz: Master Teacher
Robert Grover
Some people are "born to teach." Mike Printz was one of those
people. He taught
high school students, his faculty colleagues, and graduate
students with equal skill and
caring. He was honored twice during his career with district and
city "teacher of the
year" awards. This piece recognizes his extraordinary ability as a
teacher.
Mike had an excellent rapport with young adults, he was as open to
students as his
circulation policy. Mike told students that they could "check out
anything in the library
but the librarian." On one occasion he checked out two large
potted plants to a student
who used them at his mother's wedding. As noted by Margaret
Fowler, Topeka West
High School counselor, "He accepted every kid as an equal. He saw
no difference in
kids, no matter if they were rich or poor or black or white or
yellow. He loved them all."
Shortly after I met him, Mike invited me to visit him at Topeka
West High School. After a
tour of the library media center and a discussion of his services
and collections, a class
came in for one in a series of instructional sessions on indexes
and other reference.
Mike deftly presented an introduction to indexes, drawing from his
audience their
experiences in the library and with this type of resource.
The incident that was etched into my memory that day was his
"crowning" of
students. When he asked questions, and students responded with
thoughtful and
appropriate answers, Mike reached up and plucked a cardboard crown
from a
collection that rested on shelves around the room. The successful
student proudly
positioned the crown on his/her head. I was transfixed that this
seemingly "uncool"
activity was viewed as an honor by the young people. Mike
obviously gauged correctly
the pulse and interest level of his audience. Indeed, he
understood young people, and
he loved them.
Mike's signature teaching activity at Topeka West High School was
his annual oral
history project, which he described in a School Library Journal article. Begun in
1976 to
celebrate the U.S. Bicentennial, the oral history class was begun
" . . . to make history
come alive for students, and also to give them a clearer
understanding of their local--
Kansas--heritage."1 Students, working in pairs, selected a person, event, or place
connected with Kansas history and spent the semester researching.
The topic was first
researched locally by consulting school, university, and public
libraries, newspaper
archives, and historical museums. A substantial part of the
students' information came
from interviews conducted in the home of the subject. Often the
subject was a famous
person who had lived in Kansas at some point in his/her life.
Participating in the project
have been Hollywood stars like Ed Asner and Elizabeth Taylor, race
car driver Rick
Mears, astronaut Joe Engle, and former U.S. Senators Nancy
Kassebaum and Robert
Dole.
Students arranged their own interviews and were responsible for
soliciting
contributions to pay expenses of the class. For many it was the
first time they had
traveled without adult supervision to distant locations. While
traveling, students were
instructed to check in with Mike every evening. When students had
difficulties, Mike
activated his national network of friends to help the students who
were in trouble.
The finished product of the research was a thirty-minute
slide/tape or videotape
presentation at a public showing, which Mike labeled "Opening
Night." Invitations were
sent to parents, friends, local teachers, and leaders of civic and
service organizations.
The event drew as many as 1,500 for a single night's program.
Projects were retained
in the Topeka West High School Library, and a copy was given to
the Kansas Historical
Society.
Mike articulated the benefits of this project as follows: "Our
students have learned to
do careful, detailed research, and have acquired problem-solving
techniques that will
aid them in many endeavors. Also, career choices have been
influenced by the oral
history experience."2
For this unique class, Mike's role was that of guide, consultant,
coach, and advisor.
Mike clearly loved this teaching, but admitted that it was
extremely time-consuming,
and during spring semester, this one class consumed vast amounts
of his time, day,
and night.
Mike was also a very successful teacher of graduate students.
Teaching for both
Emporia State University and Washburn University, he consistently
drew large numbers
of students to his classes on school library media program
management and young
adult literature. In these classes he demonstrated his knowledge
of current young adult
titles and authors, as well as his knowledge of young people and
their reactions to the
literature.
What was the secret of Mike's extraordinary success as a teacher?
Perhaps the
essence is found in his own words: "I've always believed that to
work with kids you
have to let them know you respect them. And if you respect them,
then perhaps they
will respect themselves . . . . And, they will give that respect
back to you. I think you get
what you give."3
During my numerous visits to Topeka West High School it was
apparent that Mike,
during his twenty-five years at the school, had earned universal
respect for the library
media program and himself. More importantly, he also taught his
students and
colleagues to love learning, perhaps his greatest gift to all of
us who knew him.
References
1. Printz, Mike. "In the YA Corner: Topeka West's Students Honor
E.T.'
Mom," School Library Journal
30(Apr. 1984):33-34.
2. Ibid.
3. Sutton, Roger. "An Unusual Contribution": The Work of 1993 Grolier Award
Winner Mike Printz," School Library
Journal 39 (Sept. 1993):154-58.
Robert Grover is a professor in the School of Library and
Information Management at
Emporia State University, Emporia Kansas.
The Topeka West Oral History Projects
Allen W. Hartzell
I consider myself to have been a very lucky person to have had a
chance to work
closely with Mike Printz during spring semester of my senior year
at Topeka West High
School in Topeka, Kansas. I was one of the twenty-two students
selected that year to
do one of the Oral History projects. Although I did not really
know Mike at that time, I
had met him many times in the library, and he had always been
helpful and friendly.
Upon the recommendation of one of my history teachers, Earl
Williams, I joined the Oral
History projects. I was selected to work with two other students
on a project covering
the early years of the Menninger Foundation (now Menningers) in
Topeka. This project
was very interesting and appealing because it gave us the chance
to interview many of
the people who had helped to create and shape the Menninger
Foundation. Probably
the most interesting was the chance to interview Dr. Karl
Menninger, who had helped to
form the hospital with his father.
Throughout the entire process, Mike was available whenever we
needed to speak to
him. He always made time for us, and was willing to listen to
whatever we had to say.
He was the teacher who helped us to learn new ways of looking at
things. He was the
cheerleader to give us support when things were not going as we
had hoped. He was
the motivator when we were not moving along as quickly as we
should have been. In
short, he was the best friend that a person could have. I realize
now just how much I
learned from Mike during that semester.
In the years that followed, I kept in touch with Mike, although
not as much as I now
wish I would have. He was always willing to make time to talk when
I stopped in to see
him at the Topeka West High School library. He was always glad to
have a chance to
talk with former students, and to hear what they were doing
now.
After I graduated from Washburn University in Topeka, I did not
have any luck in
locating a job in my field. I had heard about the Library Science
program at Emporia
State University in Emporia, Kansas, and I decided to go there. I
must admit that my
initial reason for attending was to become an archivist, rather
than a
librarian/information professional. Shortly after my decision to
go to Emporia State,
Mike retired from Topeka West. I was fortunate to have been able
to attend the
retirement/Oral History reunion party that was given for Mike in
December 1993. It had
been several years since I had last seen him, but I was glad for
the opportunity. I told
Mike that I was entering the School of Library and Information
Management (SLIM) at
Emporia State. He said that he was excited for me and told me some
good things about
the program. I did not realize until later that he had been a
graduate of the program.
Although I really did not think about the role that Mike had
played in my education,
looking back now I wonder if someplace deep inside of me there was
that memory
about how important Mike had been to me. That may have played a
bigger role in my
decision to start at SLIM than I realized at the time. The
influence of the Oral History
projects is still with me. In one of my classes as SLIM, we had to
do a repackaging
project. I decided to do a reindexing of the Oral History projects
that are held at the
Center for Historical Research, Kansas State Historical Society,
in Topeka. This work
should help anyone who is interested in the Oral Histories to
locate them easier. During
this project, done in the spring semester of 1996, was the last
time I talked with Mike. I
regret that I did not get the opportunity to show him the finished
project, but it is one
that I hold a special place for in my heart.
I feel that I am a better person for having known him and worked
with him. Although
my plans are not to go into school libraries, I hope that maybe
someday I can have the
kind of positive influence on someone that Mike Printz had on me,
and all of the
students he met during his years at Topeka West High School.
---------------------
Allen W. Hartzell is currently a student at the School of Library
and Information
Management, Emporia, Kansas and a member of the West Topeka class
of 1979.
A Broom Closet Library and a Sad Silk Flower Arrangement:
Life with Mike Printz
Barbara Lynn
Moments that alter our lives forever are unplanned and seemingly
insignificant. The
moment that has most defined my professional career and personal
growth happened in
the spring of 1981 when I decided to take my reference class in
Kansas City, thus
moving my Secondary Materials Selection Class to summer school on
campus at
Emporia State.
That decision, at the age of thirty-five, allowed me the privilege
of experiencing
education in its truest sense at the hands of master teacher,
Michael Printz. In spite of
the fact that I carried a huge course load that summer so that I
could finish my degree
by summer’s end,
I suddenly found myself involved in a project that resulted in creating
an AV presentation and coordinating a gala event at the end of
summer school with
recently released Iranian hostage, Rocky Sickmann. While this was
a fun and exciting
project, what had the most lasting effect was Mike’s quiet guidance and
encouragement. Through his mentoring and guidance, I and my
colleagues, learned to
believe in ourselves and our abilities. In the space of six short
weeks, we accomplished
things I would never have thought possible, especially by me. This
included
coordinating press coverage, organizing a parade through Emporia,
Kansas, assuring
dignitaries greeted Rocky in Topeka, and more. Mike showed us that
we could
accomplish anything to which we put our mind. That brief six-week
experience changed
my life and was the beginning of a professional and later a
personal friendship that I
cherish.
Throughout that summer school course and later young adult
literature courses
taught by Mike, I experienced the real meaning of education and
began to understand
teaching that was not dissemination of knowledge and the
evaluation of a student’s
grasp of that knowledge. Mike’s lif |