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Tuesday's Measure Q: Oakland Library Faces Uncertain Future By Hugh Biggar
February 25, 2004

OAKLAND: Just after noon on a Friday-opening hour on this day due to budget cuts-the Martin Luther King Jr. branch library begins to hum with activity.

Chattering elementary school children roll into the library wearing Pokemon backpacks, spreading out to the tables around the room. They flip through Latina, Savoy and Black Beat magazines and talk and poke each other. At one of the two working Internet-access computers, (two other computers are broken), a young man named Abdul, dressed in jeans, sneakers and a leather coat slouches half-way off his plastic chair as he idly surfs the Web.

Across from him, a young white man in thick glasses works on a theology assignment, a stack of books piled waist high on the floor next to him-books he had brought with him in a large duffel bag. At the circulation desk, children clamor to get on the wait-list to use to the computers. At the same time, two other children beg the same librarian for a "scary video."

Across from the circulation desk, an older black woman methodically pumps change into the lone copier, looking like she is playing the slots, but at 15 cents a copy. On the bulletin board in front of her are yellow, pink and blue fliers reading: Dump Dope Dealers, Hunger Hotline, Internet 101 and Free Citizenship Classes.

This is a typical noon in the busy life of the King branch library, as much a neighborhood community center as a place to borrow books. On an average day, King receives 300 visitors, providing them with, "everything from the practical to the sublime," says Aurolyn Jackson, a long-time library aide at King. "It brings [the patrons] the world."

It is also a refuge from the dangers of the streets outside, a place of learning in a neighborhood without school libraries, and a source of information for
everything from jobs to taxes to literacy programs. But like its surroundings, the library itself hangs in a kind of precarious balance, its future course to be decided on March 2, when Oakland residents vote on Measure Q.

At present, the Oakland library system anticipates a $1.1 million budget shortfall for the next fiscal year. In addition, Oakland has one of the lowest budgets for books, videos and other materials of any city in the country. According to Kathleen Hirooka, Community Relations Coordinator for the Oakland libraries, the city spends
just five percent of its annual library budget of $17 million on these items. "Most cities allocate 10-15 percent of their budgets for such things," says Hirooka.

The Oakland libraries survive now with the help of a
measure passed ten years ago that supplements their budgets. However, the measure is set to expire in 2009 and has already become ineffective due to the rising costs of labor, operations and inflation. As a result, in the last
year the Oakland libraries have had to slash 22 jobs, reduce hours and six-day a week service at branches such as King (making it difficult for working adults to use them), and make cuts in its budgets for everything from books to magazine subscriptions.

But this might change with Measure Q, a measure to supplement the meager library budget. If passed, the measure would: expand branch hours to six days a week, add more weekday hours, provide a professional children's librarian in every library, help upgrade and maintain computers, and increase joint programs with schools.

The schools/libraries partnership is of particular importance to the King branch. The surrounding schools pour over 2,000 children into the area each weekday afternoon. An Oakland library employee who wishes to remain anonymous says, "since Proposition 13 passed in 1978, school libraries have basically ceased to exist in [Oakland's] flatlands. What libraries there are in schools are basically warehouses of books…and professional librarians have been let go."

Adds Kristen Henderson, King's children's librarian, "Literacy is a big push here." (According the Oakland library Web site, roughly 80,000 people in Oakland are functionally illiterate, or about 20 percent of the population.)

"We are trying to get children excited about books and reading," she says, noting the lack of a true library and children's librarian at the nearby elementary
school. "It's really a student resource center."

"We try to encourage them to be life-long learners," says King Branch Manager Jamie Turner. "Our main goal is to get the reading level up. The more you read, the more you are likely to go to college."

Meanwhile, the King branch library, a 1970s era tan stucco building, sits at the corner of busy International Boulevard and 69th Street, and is surrounded on three
sides by schools. A few blocks away is a bustling strip of local businesses-nail salons, liquor stores, corner groceries. Though low-slung green and brown hills are visible to the east, this is far from a bucolic spot. A few years ago King's windows were broken and the library trashed. The library's branch manager at the time also had a gun pulled on him-though it later turned out to be fake.

Directly opposite the library sits a large mortuary, reminding one that death is also a constant neighbor here. According the Oakland police department Web site, 12 out of 113 murders in Oakland last year, or 14 percent, took place within King's 94621 zip code. Two murders have already taken place in the area this year.

Henderson, King's children's librarian, recalls a reading she gave at the elementary school next door. Two of the children in the audience had parents who were recently killed.

Then there are the pit bulls. According to Henderson, some of the library's adult customers bring sticks with them to "drive away" packs of wild dogs that roam the area. The pit bulls, once the dog of choice for status conscious urban youngsters, have since been abandoned or run away. And one lone pit bull camped out briefly on the library's front lawn.

The King library offers a respite from these things-for now at least. "We try to give people a place to at least get started," Turner. "We try to open their eyes to what's out there."

Turner is also quick to sing King's praises as a neighborhood reference center. "It's really the first stop for a lot of people," she says. "We give them information on resumes, job searches, literacy programs, legal help, and computers to use." Indeed, stacked neatly in front of the circulation desk are fliers for pre-school story time, a dial-a-story hotline, 2004 income tax assistance, children's kindergarten books, a parent's guide to emergent literacy and an Oakland library calendar for events ranging from refugee groups to a teen book club.

Tillman Henderson, an Oakland businessman, also praises King's resources. "I come in two-three times a week," he says. "I particularly like the tax forms and business information," adding it helps him run a business from his home.

Alex Flores, 23, and newly arrived from Los Angeles, also found King useful. "My uncle told me it be a good place to get with help my resume," he said, "and they could help me look for work."

Measure Q would help keep these resources available of course. More immediately, it would help ensure King stays open and for more hours.

"If Measure Q doesn't pass, we will be forced by the $1.1 million budget shortfall to reduce services," says Hirooka. "That will mostly likely mean we have to cut back on personnel, which takes up 80 percent of the budget. It could also mean branch closures too."

But all of that is in the future. For the moment, the King branch has more pressing matters to attend to. Like the boys' bathroom.

Just as a bigger and louder crowd of middle school students rolls into the library, word comes back to the circulation desk that someone has defecated on the bathroom floor. Henderson adroitly telephones the main office for maintenance assistance while also helping a student get a library card and conducting crowd control.

Meanwhile, a security guard circles the large main room, pacing the orange and brown carpet that hasn't been replaced in over twenty years. In the back the Nguyen sisters crowd around a computer, sharing the terminal. At a table in the middle of the room, Martin Dancer, a twelve-year old, leafs through Vibe magazine and says he likes to come here, "for the Internet and to do homework."

Over by the computers, Chestina Evans says she comes every
day. "I use the Internet. I meet my friends. I wish it were open Saturdays too," she adds. "I would definitely be here."

In the otherwise empty reference and community room, an older man sits reading the Chronicle and asks not be disturbed. Another adult patron browses in a back corner of the main reading room. Until now the book stacks have just been background decoration against the walls, and she is the first of the day to search through them.

By 2 p.m. there is a collective groan up at the circulation desk. Henderson has announced the two computers are signed out for the day. Maintenance, she hopes, will be by next week to fix the other two, though this too is uncertain since job cuts have left such visits backlogged. The main concern right now, at any rate, is cleaning the bathroom. (One week later, the bathroom had since been cleaned, but the two computers remained out of order.) Meanwhile, the copier rattles and hums away across from the desk, and an adult patron slips through and checks out her selections, reminding one that along with everything else, this community hub also is an oasis of free books-for now at least.

Contact Hugh Biggar at hbiggar@stanford.edu.

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