The third week of the Mortenson Center program was a week in which we often talked about data, evidence, indicators, assessment, impact, and value. At first glance, these words may seem dry and analytical. But during this week, I came to understand even more clearly that behind every library statistic there is at least one human story. Behind every visit, borrowed book, program participation, completed survey, and piece of feedback, there is a person seeking knowledge, support, a place, a connection, or simply the feeling of belonging to a community.
If I had to summarize the week in one sentence, I would say this: we learned to think about library impact not merely as something we record in statistics, but as something we understand, communicate, and demonstrate.
When Libraries Tell the Story of Their Impact
One of the key topics of the week was the assessment of library services and the development of an impact story. This is the way a library shows why it exists, how it changes the lives of its users, and what value it creates for the institution and the community.
During the hands-on exercises, we discussed the difference between saying “how much we did” and showing “what changed.” For example, the number of visitors is important. The number of events is important as well. But even more important is the question: is anyone better supported because of the library? Is the student more confident? Has the researcher received better support? Has the community come to see the library as its own space? For users, the library can mean access to knowledge, calm, confidence, skills, belonging, and support. For the library, these experiences become evidence of its strategic role – as an educational, social, cultural, and research partner.
Accessibility as a Professional Responsibility
Another important focus was digital accessibility. We worked with a checklist that included elements such as clear navigation, proper use of headings, a logical keyboard navigation order, sufficient color contrast, alternative text for images, descriptive links, captions, clear instructions, and icons.
This reminded me that accessibility is not an optional extra. It is a fundamental part of quality library service. A website may look beautiful, but if it cannot be used by all users, it does not fully fulfill its mission. A digital service may be rich in content, but if it is difficult to navigate, overloaded with visual elements, or inaccessible to people with different needs, it is not truly inclusive.
The principle “Ask your users” was especially important to me. Sometimes, as professionals, we tend to assume what is convenient, understandable, or useful. But true accessibility begins when we ask people, observe how they actually use services, and are willing to change the environment based on their experience.
We also saw the message for the future Archives and Special Collections building: “Preserving our legacy, inspiring our future.” This sentence symbolizes the message behind one of the core missions of libraries and archives: to preserve the past not simply for the sake of the past, but so that the future can be more informed, more aware, and more connected to its roots.
My photo with the orange hard hat labeled “Library” was a fun and symbolic moment. Because libraries truly are “under construction” – not only as buildings, but also as ideas, services, spaces, and new professional roles.
Springfield: Memory, History, and the Future
The visit to Springfield added another layer to my understanding of libraries and memory institutions. The Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum reminded all of us how powerful archives, museums, and libraries can be when they turn history into an experience. There, history is not locked away in the past. It speaks to the present, asks questions, and helps visitors better understand not only one individual, but also the values, conflicts, and memory of a society.
And to walk through Abraham Lincoln’s home, to immerse yourself in the atmosphere in which one of the world’s greatest figures lived and worked, to stand just inches from the table where documents were created and signed that shaped the path of a free and democratic nation – priceless, unforgettable, and truly extraordinary.
Access to Reading for Everyone
At the Illinois State Library, we also learned about services related to Talking Books and audiobooks. This was a powerful encounter with the idea that the library must reach people when people cannot reach the traditional form of the book. Access to library services must be guaranteed through different formats, technologies, and services for everyone.
This visit connected the themes of physical, digital, and informational accessibility. Inclusion is not only an architectural or technological matter; it is also an attitude and a professional ethic. It is the library’s choice to stand on the side of every user.
Urbana Free Library: The Library as a Living Ecosystem
The visit to the Urbana Free Library was an inspiring example of how a public library can be a true living ecosystem. There, we saw not only books and reading spaces, but also ideas that expand our understanding of library service.
The Seed Exchange presented the library as a place for sharing seeds, sustainability, and care for the community. It is a wonderful example of a library that not only provides information about life, but quite literally supports growth – the growth of plants, communities, habits of sustainability, and sharing.
The board game collection revealed another important side of the library – as a space for play, social interaction, and experiential learning. The music room with instruments, the teen lab, the children’s area, the spaces for families and community activities – all of this presents the library as a place where people create, communicate, learn, and feel part of something larger.
Arthur Library and the Question of How We Listen to the Community
The visit and conversations related to Arthur Library led us to another important question: how does a library understand the needs of its particular community? Arthur is connected to one of the significant Amish communities in Illinois, and this raises very interesting questions about communication, access, cultural sensitivity, and adapting services.
It was especially valuable to think about how the library gathers feedback. Does it come through surveys and conversations? Or through trust built over many years? Sometimes the most important data does not come only from a completed form, but from listening carefully to people.
This is a lesson that can be applied in every library. To be truly user-centered, we need not only to ask what people want, but also to understand how they live, how they communicate, what values they hold, and how the library can be useful precisely within their own context.
The library itself left all of us with a feeling of warmth, coziness, sharing, and dedication to each of its users. I can definitely say that the close-knit team of this library manages to brighten the day of everyone lucky enough to cross its threshold with their smiles and positive attitude.
A particularly powerful experience for me was the visit to the home of an Amish family. We were welcomed with extraordinary warmth, calm, and genuine human kindness by people who live with dedication, simplicity, and deep respect for those closest to them. What impressed me most was that if members of the family use phones, they leave them outside the home, because once they cross the threshold, the most important things are no longer work, messages, and the outside world, but the people closest to them.
I sincerely found myself wondering whether it is really so bad not to have a television or a computer, if that means that time at home can truly be time for your family and for yourself. And perhaps the absence of technology is not a limitation, but a space in which you can allow yourself to be a fully present parent, partner, and human being.
The International Lunch: When Cultures Speak Through Food
And yet, if I had to choose the most interesting and enjoyable moment of the week, I would point to the international lunch on Sunday, when each of us presented our country through homemade food. Together with Lucy, I prepared Bulgarian pitka, moussaka, and tarator. For us, this was a way to present Bulgaria through our own traditional foods. The pitka carried the feeling of home and celebration, the moussaka – the feeling of a family table, and the tarator – the feeling of summer, freshness, and simplicity.
Ten different cultures came together around one table, which became a kind of map of the world – with different tastes, aromas, recipes, stories, and smiles. People from different countries, with different languages and professional backgrounds, sat together around one table, tried unfamiliar dishes, asked questions, laughed, explored new flavors, and discovered what they had in common.
Grainger Engineering Library and the CIF
The visits to the Grainger Engineering Library and the CIF were also especially impressive to me. Grainger Library presented an exceptionally strong vision of the academic library as a space for learning, technology, engineering thinking, and research support. It is a library that inspires respect through its scale while also creating a sense of focus, concentration, and academic energy. The CIF, in turn, was a magnificent example of a modern learning environment – flexible, technologically well-equipped, and open to different forms of teaching, collaboration, and active learning. Both spaces clearly demonstrated how architecture, technology, and pedagogy can work together when the student and the student experience are placed at the center. Grainger Library and the CIF made me reflect once again on how important the physical environment is to the quality of learning. Sometimes a building, a reading room, a well-designed classroom, or a thoughtfully organized learning space can say more about an institution’s values than many strategic documents. There, one could clearly see respect for knowledge, for students, for faculty, and for the future of education.
What Remains After the Week
The third week made me think deeply about libraries and their impact. Sometimes that impact lies in the fact that someone felt welcome and understood that the library is their place, too. Someone else found seeds, a game, a musical instrument, a conversation partner, or a space for rest.
This is perhaps my most important takeaway from the week: libraries are powerful because they create the conditions for people to learn, connect, be seen, and belong.
And if I had to return to one of the messages that stayed with me most strongly, it would be this: Libraries build belonging.