D.C. Libraries Wander Off The Path to a Happy Ending

This story should be a celebration of democracy, a stirring tale about how D.C. residents, disgusted by the decay and disregard that have left the city's libraries in wretched condition, rose up and demanded change -- and got it.

The story should start with the work library users, Ralph Nader and newspaper reporters did to confront the city with the reality of libraries that are starved for resources and decades behind the times. The story would end in triumph, with a vision for a new library system and an impressive federal commitment to pay for new facilities.

But much as I'd love to tell that story -- and the good news is that most of those ingredients are falling into place -- I also have to tell this one:

The library system remains in disarray. Its longtime director got out of Dodge, two interim directors didn't last long, and the search for a new one continues. Four branch libraries that were shut down to make way for new buildings remain closed long after plans for their replacements collapsed. Despite promises of temporary libraries in those neighborhoods, nothing has happened.

Mayor Tony Williams's task force on the future of the library crisscrossed the nation and found inspiring examples of libraries that have leapt into the information age, recasting themselves as airy, attractive places that foment social connections by providing meeting rooms, coffee shops, computer access, homework help, teen hangouts, adult literacy courses and, yes, books too. You can even talk and eat at the new libraries.

But now that it's time to raise the money and make serious decisions about whether to replace the main Martin Luther King Jr. library downtown and about what services branch libraries should offer, the system is falling into a pattern that's becoming all too common at the intersection between government and the people.

The D.C. library's trustees have hit upon a device used by suburban officials to shield themselves from the voices of the people during development battles. They spent $20,000 to hire a consulting firm to replace old-fashioned public hearings with glitzy, streamlined exercises dubbed "listening sessions."

Over the past couple of weeks, listening sessions, conducted in corporate-speak, have been staged at several District libraries. They are depressing, deflating experiences. At the Petworth branch the other night, the hired moderator, David Campt, from a firm called America Speaks, welcomed an audience of 38 by saying how glad he was "to see all these wonderful libraries." Eyes rolled all over the room, and it was downhill from there.

"This is all about articulating what you want your library to be," Campt said, but in fact, the session was constructed to steer conversation toward the library task force's priorities: literacy, bestsellers, homework help, computer skills, lifelong learning and public spaces.

After showing a slick video backing up the task force's conclusions, the moderator started to break the crowd into groups of eight or so people, who would then discuss preordained questions for precisely 13 minutes each.

Library users rebelled: "I'm concerned there's nothing there about research or literature," said Renee Bowser, who also worried about reports that the library is considering selling properties to developers.

"I'm going to ask that you hold your comments till we go through our process," the moderator replied, and he set up his little groups, promising that anyone could address the whole gathering at the end of the evening. As it turned out, only seven minutes remained at the end, and Campt urged the audience out the door with assurances that everyone's concerns had been well aired in the small groups.