“We didn’t ask the kids what kind of library they wanted. Instead, we asked them what their dreams looked like,” says Reinert Mithassel.
We meet chief librarian Reinert Mithassel one ice-cold Oslo morning in Biblo Tøyen. It was important that we meet only in the early hours of the morning, because neither journalists nor other adults have access during normal opening hours. This also applied to the Norwegian Crown Prince and Crown Princess when they visited the library.
“When adults are here, the energy in the room changes. Adults occupy the space with their ideas – for example the idea that it should be quiet in a library,” says Mithassel as he unlaces his shoes.
On the floor in front of us, right inside the doorway, block letters clearly mark that the space from that point is both a shoe- and adult-free zone.
“The kids get enough parental monitoring at home, where they also have to share attention with several small siblings. Here, at Biblo, they can just be themselves,” says Mithassel, but adds that there are a few adults who’re allowed to be in the library during opening hours: those who assist with homework, various workshops, and of course, the staff.
“The most important factor in this library is the staff, and how good they are at interacting with the children. They know all the kids by name, and the kids know them well. The staff respect them and their life projects.”
Library of the Year
Deep inside the library, it’s like entering an alternate universe. A pink van, ski lifts, wheelbarrows converted into chairs, old telephone kiosks, and a glass walkway are just some of the interior design elements that stimulate the senses at Biblo Tøyen.
“We librarians may have forgotten why we build libraries for children,” says Mithassel. As a rule, children usually have their designated places in their own children’s sections or in the school libraries.
Mithassel thinks that this level of ambition is too low: “The concept of a children’s section in a library is to take ten cushions in colored pillow cases, put them in a circle and have the books around that circle. That’s not good enough. We’re aiming for gold.”
Biblo Tøyen is located in the middle of Tøyen Square in Oslo’s eastern district. Above the door, is a sign: “Library of the Year”, awarded in 2017. Last year, they also received The Golden Book Award for the best literature dissemination program in Norway. These are just two of many awards that Biblo Tøyen has won, or been nominated for, at home and abroad.
Mithassel is particularly pleased that it’s the children in Tøyen, with a high proportion of immigrants, who have the pleasure of having “The Library of the Year” in their neighborhood: “The kids here have the most challenging of starting points in Oslo, with many living below the poverty line and few positive initiatives.”
Biblo Tøyen takes the kids seriously, not least when they’re in the transition period between ten and fifteen years old. Mithassel emphasizes that it is important to help them to relate to themselves and others on their own terms: “We want to make things completely different because then, everyone is on a level playing field. It’s not just important for the ones who are good at school to feel clever; we also have to build an intrinsic value across the spheres of knowledge.”
For children, by children
“Libraries are virtually the same in all the countries of the world. It’s a readymade concept. It’s strange and surprising how homogeneous they are,” says Mithassel.
Most people think of a library as a rather sterile environment, where the staff always have their fingers on their lips. Biblo Tøyen wants to get rid of this perception: “When we were about to design the library, we gathered thirty kids from Tøyen. We didn’t ask them what they wanted a library to look like. Instead, we asked what their dreams looked like and what made them happy.
And as if that’s not enough: Biblo Tøyen also hired an architectural psychologist (yes, they exist). The lessons from this provided important guiding principles toward creating the library’s distinctive character: “He told us, among other things, that children want to sit close together and rub against each other. They want to have an overview as well as to be concealed. They want to see and be seen, but not monitored. This was surprising because it’s contrary to what adults want a free space to be,” says Mithassel, pointing out, for example, that their ski lifts fulfill all the needs of the kids.
Not books, books, books
“At Biblo Tøyen, we focus on the human being. More a life education, if you like. It’s more social, stimulating, and creative. That’s why we’ve designed this slightly strange alternative universe,” Mithassel says. “Kids come here in spite of the fact that it’s a library, and we let them come spend time at Biblo on their own terms. Most of them have poor reading skills, so we’re not going to hit them on the head with Ibsen the first time they come in. We have to offer something first,” Mithassel says.
“It’s a bit like the order of what the Salvation Army offers: «Soup, soap, salvation». It’s not “salvation, salvation, salvation” – they present a more basic and welcoming offer first. We must have the same approach and start by offering the kids some the free space. Then, eventually, we can present the books. We simply have to be smarter.”
The interest in Biblo Tøyen has been great, not only in Norway: many abroad have their eyes on the special library project. “We’ve had visits from several delegations from other countries who, hopefully, have acquired some inspiration.” A project like Biblo Tøyen obviously costs money, but Mithassel claims that it’s not only about the funding: “Clearly, it costs money and not everyone can do this in the same scale. But it’s more about the mindset than the money. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”