Queens library tour

Today I visited three QBPL branches. Each is in a distinct neighborhood in east central Queens: Glen Oaks, Bellerose, and Queens Village.

Glen Oaks borders Nassau County in the east. Its public library is dramatically modern. It's located at 256-04 Union Turnpike.

 Bellerose is a hybrid: there is a Bellerose neighborhood in Queens, and there is a Bellerose village in in Nassau County. I went to the Bellerose branch of the Queens Borough Public Library. The building is at 250-06 Hillside Avenue. It was built in 1978, and, plainly, it is rather drab, a brick box without much style.

My third visit was to the Queens Village branch of QBPL. Unusually, it is on a side street (94-11 217th Street). It was built in 1951, and looks it.

The contrast between the three buildings is stark; in fact, the juxtaposition of the modern Glen Oaks building on the one hand, and of the two older buildings on the other hand is remarkable. Not just on the outside, though the appearance of each building is quite different: Glen Oaks Library is obviously different, yet Queens Village Library's architecture has some style to it, unlike the Bellerose Library, which is plain and boring, and, I'll say it, ugly.

Inside as well: all three buildings have stairs between floors, a practical and functional feature for all types of buildings; it is uncommon for a residence or an institution to have enough floor space on one level to obviate the need for stairs. Yet the internal Glen Oaks staircase isn't simply utilitarian; it  plays an aesthetic role, for this isn't just a building that fills a simple function or plays a simple role. It is a work of architectural art, as are its components.

This set of stairs isn't shunted off to the side, but sweeps through the very middle of the building; it isn't hidden, but accented. It is a featured part of the design. I'm suddenly reminded that my own library — well, my former library; I've been retired for a couple of months, yet I still think of it as mine, in large part because it meant so much to me, the one place I worked where I really felt comfortable and fulfilled as a professional (a long discussion meant for another time and a different post) — my own former library had a similar design, though its stairs weren't in the middle of the floor, they were not hidden, but featured, meant to be seen, a piece of architectural art.

I don't know enough about architecture to say more than I know what I like, and these stairs I like, for they are not simply stairs.

As I climbed the stairs, I could still see the floor I had come from, and anticipate the one where I was going; I'm sure someone far more eloquent than me can verbalize what that means in flowery language.

For example, as I walked to the upper level I had a full view of the main floor, including that sign which identifies the professional at work: Librarian. I appreciate that. Far more often than should have happened, I can remember being at work and having someone come up to me and ask, do you work here? I can remember thinking, well, I will edit that, and say I wondered, why ask that question of someone well dressed, sitting behind a desk, working at a computer? I mean, really.

I will not say anything further, and as the sword of Damocles did not fall on me, I will continue.

The other two libraries I visited also had staircases, but utterly functional ones. I will admit these are not utterly ugly, and efforts have been made to dress them up. That goes to the heart of the matter of what libraries are, what libraries try to do: serve the public. Going to the library is a cultural outing, even when one goes to get a DVD of the latest action movie or to read some tabloid's salacious tales.

This is the Queens Village Library's staircase, the better of the two older libraries. Even with my limited visit, I think the best I can say about Bellerose is that the community needs a new library. Why that's done, what sort of governmental machinations transpire so that a community's library is upgraded, as happened in Glen Oaks, I don't (yet) know.

The Glen Oaks Public Library was designed by the Marble Fairbanks firm, which has worked on a number of public libraries in the New York City area. It has a lot of glass, and inside it is a bright, airy space. The firm has a more elaborate description on its website; I agree with its description of Glen Oaks as suburban residential, even as it lies within the urban NYC borders.

In the 2010 census, the Glen Oaks had a population of less than 20,000.

I arrived at the library at 2.40, and saw a small number of students hanging out or going inside. I was impressed before going in: the library building is dramatic.

The Bellerose Library did appear to be a well-used neighborhood resource. That was encouraging; despite all the changes in technology, people still are going to the library. Kids there after school, that was clear; adults using computers, perhaps conducting job searches or working on resumes or applying for jobs online; older adults there reading a newspaper, caring for a grandchild, or snoozing. Technology has changed how people use the library; in some cases, they don't: I would help people when I was working as a librarian who would say I don't need help, I have my computer and my phone.


Although now several years old, this article about the Bellerose Jewish Center clearly describes the changing demographics and character of its neighborhood.

Although Jews made up 44 percent of the community in 1991, they represented only 22 percent in 2002, according to the Jewish population study commissioned by UJA-Federation of New York. The number of Jews plunged during that decade from 23,000 in 1991 to just 12,400 in 2002.“Chinese and South Asians are moving in and the Jewish population is aging and Jews are moving out,” Gottlieb observed.

That trend has not stopped. In the Bellerose neighborhood around the library there are many Indian and Pakistani shops, restaurants and markets. Ranging from Union Turnpike to Hillside Avenue, two major streets, the neighborhood has a distinct South Asian flavor. As happens so often, ethnic group congregate in particular areas. Some of it is of autonomous design, as people move close to family or friends or to others of their ilk, where they will find shops catering to their tastes. It's curious how people behave: in the US, in general, people want to become part of the society at-large, yet they also wish to live near people of similar background and retain their language and customs and food. Some of that is not autonomous; clearly segregation remains in society. I don't know enough to elaborate on the topic, nor is that my focus, but there it is.

Queens Village is a huge neighborhood. There are distinct pockets here and there, yet it is largely black. Of course, that doesn't mean so much, for within the 'black' community there are different groups: Guyanese, and Caribbean: within this latter group there are Jamaicans and Haitians.

I remember going to dinner, years ago, with Laura to a Haitian restaurant on Jamaica Avenue (which does not appear to be there any longer). And I also remember going to a Haitian bakery nearby.

Back to the libraries. For all their differences, there are important similarities, stemming from their cultural role in their neighborhoods.

In Bellerose Library (below) as in Glen Oaks Library (above), the book truck plays the same role: once items are returned to the library, they need to be reshelved to be made available for other patrons to find; invariably, this will be done by a high school student. I've seen that for many years; I worked with many such pages (as they're known in library parlance). Working after school is a way to make money, pocket change it used to be called once upon a time, which high school students appreciate. But not all high school students who want to work will work in a library.

Once the books, films and other items (video games a newer category, as are audio books) are reshelved, patrons can see them, select them, and take them out.

So the circle is completed.