‘Problem patron’ is a librarian’s category and a negative classification

I’ve just finished a review of the LIS literature on public libraries and the homeless for my research methods class. One striking thing I noticed is the dearth of empirical research conducted on issues specific to homeless public library patrons, despite the potential for valid, authoritative data to strengthen the claims of social justice advocates and bring both public attention and funding dollars to support libraries providing sanctuary and services to the homeless. Vanessa Budnick makes an interesting point about this in her Masters Thesis on the perceptions of library students and professionals toward the homeless.

Librarians often use the argument that they must pay great heed to the voices of “tax-paying” users. However, every article that I read about the homeless and libraries neglected to identify if the policies or attitudes truly were a reflection of public complaints. Admittedly it would be a challenge to approach patrons to see if homeless patrons were a concern; however, it seems likely that any “problem” behaviors are documented and that the creation of policies against body odor and bed rolls are substantiated by records of these complaints. Yet, where is the evidence? Library articles discuss homelessness, but rarely seem to back-up their statements with proof. Are these “problem patrons” a problem for the staff or for other patrons? Not to say that staff complaints are not valid, but we cannot cloak our decisions in patron beliefs when the concerns are really from the staff. (“Perceptions” 9)

Entitled “Perceptions of Library Students Versus Library Professionals Toward the Homeless Patrons: A Comparative Study,” Budnick’s is one of three interesting LIS Masters Theses based on empirical research about or related to homeless library patrons. Budnick distributed surveys to 21 graduate students in library science and 48 library professionals to measure their attitudes toward homeless people, and to assess the potential influence of their attitudes on library services to the homeless. Citing research from the medical and nursing professions, Budnick points out that nurses and medical school residents who view the causes of homelessness to be social as opposed to individual, and who have personal experience working with homeless persons, tend to hold more positive attitudes toward homeless people, and tend to me more willing to work with them (16). Budnick wanted to know whether the same conclusions could be applied to the library profession. Her survey showed that both library professionals and students tend to believe that homelessness is attributable to social over individual causes, and suggested that both library professionals and students hold relatively unstigmatizing views toward the homeless (25). Interestingly, the students surveyed indicated significantly less willingness to affiliate with homeless people (to share a meal, for example) than library professionals, which Budnick hypothesized might be due to library students’ comparatively lower exposure to homeless persons than their professional counterparts (26). Budnick admits the limited value of her research due to the small number of surveys distributed, and observes a significant contradiction between her data, which indicates a relative lack of stigmatizing attitude toward the homeless on the part of library students and professionals, versus library literature which is filled with examples of stigmatizing language and policies (27). Further, Budnick points out the lack of quantitative research from LIS scholars on the homeless despite the fact that library professionals must and do create and enforce policies targeting this population (29).

Entitled “Problem Patron Policies in Public Libraries: A Content Analysis,” Adam Webb’s 2005 Masters Thesis took a closer look at such policies. Comparing the patron conduct polices of 20 large urban public libraries (defined as serving at least 300,000 individuals) and 20 small public libraries (defined as serving less than 300,000 individuals), Webb tested his hypothesis that larger urban libraries can be expected to have more policies addressing homelessness and criminal elements than smaller public libraries, serving populations with ostensibly smaller homeless populations. Webb’s results indicate something much less conclusive. “The most surprising thing about problem patron policies,” he wrote, “is the sheer amount of policy types” (15). Suggesting that interviews with library administrators to learn about the particular rationales behind specific policies would be a logical extension of his study, Webb reported that he found 56 different types of polices in his study, and added that he assumed many more exist, given the number of libraries not included in his study (15). Digging into the details a bit, Webb also found that only 11 of the 20 large urban libraries had poor hygiene policies, and that similarly, prohibitions on large bedrolls and containers for personal belongings were less common than he had originally expected.

Libraries that want to limit the presence of homeless people within their walls would be expected to have policies limiting the amount and size of baggage that a person can bring into the library. Yet less than half (9/20) of the large libraries had prohibitions on bringing large bedrolls and large containers filled with personal belongings. (13)

Certainly, deeper investigations into the attitudes of library professionals toward the homeless and by extension, the guiding logic behind their patron behavior policies, seem likely to contribute to a deeper understanding of how and why the homeless are identified, stigmatized, and regulated by and within the public library setting. But the voices of library professionals already dominate LIS discourse about homelessness and public libraries. What’s missing from this conversation, writes Aisha Harvey in her 2002 Masters Thesis, are the voices of the homeless themselves. “Instead of assuming that we know what homeless patrons may want or feel in public libraries,” writes Harvey, by investigating their perceptions of information access, “we will be able to read for ourselves what some homeless patrons have said about their own experiences” (“Homeless Perspectives” 5). Harvey interviewed five homeless public library patrons, selected based on their residence at the Durham Urban Ministries homeless shelter in Durham, NC, and on evidence that they used the Central Durham Public Library (1). Each of the five participants was a daily library visitor, and these visits typically lasted for several hours (47). Three of the five claimed to use the library for shelter, and one revealed that he had been caught sleeping in the library. They also used the library for internet access, to read periodicals and stay apprised of current events, to write resumes, and to rent video tapes (48).

This study has shown that homeless people can also be artists, readers, and job seekers. When working with homeless library users, librarians must recognize that not having a home is one important aspect of their lives, but it does not sum up the totality of their needs. It is important for librarians to communicate with local homeless shelters in their area; to better determine the role that their library may or may not be playing in their homeless users’ lives. (Harvey 54)

Acknowledging her study’s small sample size and thus the need for further research to collect more data from a greater number of homeless library patrons, Harvey nevertheless observed that among her informants, perceptions of the library and librarians were positive overall. Participants in her study described the library as a reliable, drug-free and safe place, in contrast to their chaotic lives outside the library (51). “From the informants’ perspectives, they use the library for the same reasons that anyone would. What separates them from other groups of library users may be the frequency with which they participate in these activities at the library on a weekly basis. … This frequency combined with their described activity in the library would mean that some library staff see the same informants come in and get water, go to the bathroom, and ask for help almost everyday” (48). Many librarians view homeless patrons as “problem patrons,” writes Harvey, but this is not how the homeless see themselves: “‘Problem patron’ is a librarian’s category and a negative classification” (54).

When will LIS scholars publish an in-depth discourse analysis of the image of the “problem patron” or the “homeless library patron” as social constructions of the library profession? When will empirical research produce some hard data about the numbers of homeless individuals and families using public libraries? When will somebody conduct a serious investigation into the perceptions of non-homeless library patrons and library professionals toward homeless patrons? Harvey’s observation that most LIS literature about homeless or “problem” library patrons is based on unsupported conclusions is correct. The literature I reviewed in my paper includes legal analyses, case studies, interpretive discussions and an abundance of opinion, all of which contributes to our broader understanding of the issue at hand. But amid this literature is a noticeable dearth of both empirical research and sophisticated, theoretically informed analysis. Perhaps the library community needs to make connections with scholars working in other fields, to combine existing theoretical frameworks for understanding social, economic and political issues with the domain-specific experience of the library community. In any case, it will be difficult for LIS scholars with a social justice agenda to proceed much further on this issue without valid, authoritative information about the nature of the problem itself.