Congratulations to you both!

Rachel

I’m a Bicentennial Baby, part of the first generation - as Douglas Coupland maintains - that was raised without religion. My ancestory makes me an Eastern European mutt, for the most part, but it was the great-great-grandparents who made the journey to America, and by the time I came along most ethnic tradition was lost, too.

So in a sense, I’ve always viewed pop culture as MY culture. My heritage. It is the thread that connects me to family, friends, and even strangers. Think about it: how many times have you met someone new, and in random conversation someone brings up the episode of THE COSBY SHOW where Cliff and Clair decide to teach Theo about “the real world.” Isn’t there that flash of recognition, that spark that says, “I want to know more about you”?

Better yet, what about when you meet someone who’s steeped in the knowledge of something less mainstream. Here’s where the idea of fandom starts to come into play - this idea of a community based on a comic or a TV series or even a performance artist. One of my friends, Emmett, is the first guy I’ve met who remembered this obscure kids TV show from the early ’80s that I was totally in love with: STAR STUFF. There’s always that feeling of “if you get why this is so glorious, then you probably understand at least part of who I am.”

I’m TV oriented, so yeah, most of my references will relate back to the so-called “boob tube.” But I also teach freshman English part time at the University of Delaware, and in my class I use a semiotics of pop culture text. Semiotics, for those who are unfamiliar with the term, is just a fancy word for the study of signs. In my class, we “read” pop culture to uncover the meaning behind its signs. So it’s not just about TV or movies; we discuss Superman as the quintessential immigrant, we talk about how the layout of a grocery store is very carefully designed to make us buy, buy, buy. We look at the carefuly constructed environment of Disney World, and we deconstruct the dichotomous messages inherent in blue jeans. This text has brought me the liveliest class discussions, because pop culture is something that even college freshmen can consider themselves experts on. My old text used to contain more traditional classics like “The Declaration of Independence” and Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” but more often than not, my students checked out, because let’s face it - they’re just not as engaging as the moment when they realize that the sight lines in perfume ads all lead to a woman’s bosom or groin on purpose.

When libraries recognize what turns kids on - what makes them want to open a book or magazine or rent a video or meet up with a bunch of other teens who are into anything from TWILIGHT to anime to making duct tape wallets - then they are addressing the needs of their younger patrons. It’s got to be about more than a summer reading program or monthly book club. We’re living in an age where static websites have been rendered nearly useless by blogs, social networking sites, and Twitter, the increasingly popular site where the main appeal is broadcasting what you’re thinking/feeling/doing in 140 clever characters or less.

The struggle that libraries face, in my limited opinion, isn’t so much about what they offer as it is in how to broadcast those offerings to the non-library users you mention. You can plan the most amazing events and activities in the world, but if all a library does to promote those events is add a blurb in the paper and put up a few fliers, then who’s going to know about it other than the people who are already attending such events to begin with?