Behind story time: How Miss Jean sees every child

By Megan Luther

It’s 30 minutes before story time begins at the Mitchell Public Library, and the Children’s Services Librarian Jean Patrick is feeling the adrenaline rush, the nerves. She’s busy prepping for the 45-minute activity, when she reads books to children and guides a craft.

Miss Jean’s been at it for seven years, organized more than 500 story times. But every time, she gets anxious, “What if nobody comes?”

But of course they come. Children literally run to her and give her a hug. “Miss Jean!” She’s soft-spoken, but definitely not shy. With her glasses and shoulder-length blonde hair, Miss Jean reminds you of a fun older aunt or young grandmother.

It’s 10:30 AM sharp and story time is ready to begin. Around 15 kids, ranging from nursing newborns to a 10-year-old find a seat on the colorful rug with their grownups in chairs behind them. Miss Jean takes a seat in the red orange chair. Already, she has their attention.

Miss Jean warms up with a chant, like she does every story time, to center the children and reign them in.

“Okay, everybody, arms up in the air. Higher, higher, higher, higher, higher. Are your arms about to come off? Oh my. Now let your hands drop to your lap. Here we go,” she animates.

“Bread and butter, marmalade and jam, say hello to Miss Jean, as nicely as you can,” the children sing in unison with Miss Jean and say ‘hello’.

Then they repeat, saying hello to friends in a high voice, then a sloooow voice.

And again. “Bread and butter, marmalade and jam. Say hello to your moms and dads and grandmas and grandpas and babysitters and aunts and uncles and everybody else, like a pirate if you can.”

“Arrrr!”

Miss Jean brings out a black plastic treasure chest with a gold lid and places it on her lap. The treasure chest is a staple at every story time, but it seems particularly appropriate today.

“Everybody close your lips. Open both of your ears,” Miss Jean instructs. They quiet down.

She shakes it and they try to guess what’s hidden inside.

“A rock,” one boy guesses. “A telescope,” says another.

Miss Jean opens the lid. She holds up a black plastic tube. “It’s part of my vacuum cleaner!” But to those with great imaginations, it’s a telescope that belongs on a pirate’s ship.

Today’s first read is “Pirates Love Underpants” by Claire Freedman, a children’s book chronicling the pirates’ special quest to find the fabled Pants of Gold for the captain’s treasure chest.

It’s silly and Miss Jean dives into the role, and shark-infested waters, head-first.

“The captain shouts, ‘Hooray!’ Sharks in fancy underpants. We’ve found Big Knickers Bay!” she cheers.

Whether inspired by the topic at hand, or because he just felt like it, a toddler takes off his shorts and decides to walk around in his diaper. Miss Jean is unfazed.

It’s mesmerizing how she gracefully handles interruptions and kids’ questions. One child points out that the pirate’s black hat looks like upside down underwear.

“I never noticed that about a pirate hat.” It’s clear Miss Jean is telling the truth. “Now, whenever I see a pirate hat, I’m going to think about that.”

The author

“Long-Armed Ludy” written by Mitchell Children’s Services Librarian Jean Patrick was recently featured in The New York Times. (Charlesbridge Publishing)

Miss Jean didn’t plan on being a librarian. Since the second grade, she’s dreamed of being an author.

“And as with many dreams, sometimes we put the ones we want the most, high up on a shelf because they’re safer on a shelf rather than attempting it and failing.”

She grew up in the Chicago area and went to high school in rural Kansas. She followed her husband, and high school sweetheart, Mike Patrick to South Dakota. As he started his veterinarian practice, she wrote at home while raising three children.

You won’t hear this from Miss Jean, but she’s quite an accomplished children’s book author.

“I hate self-promotion.”

Just last month in an article “These Children’s Books Will Get You in the Olympic Spirit,” The New York Times featured Miss Jean’s book “Long-Armed Ludy.”

Published in 2017, the illustrated book is based on a true story about an athlete who qualified for the first Women’s Olympics in 1922.

Book reviewers describe Miss Jean’s writing as “folksy” and “packed with facts.” That’s on brand, if you know Miss Jean.

The book begins “No one really knows how Ludy’s arms got so long…” and the rest you can read at the library or buy your own copy.

When we sit down in the library one morning to talk about her accomplishments, instead of a resume, Miss Jean pulls out her notebook with a black cover. She thumbs to the page where she’s hand-written everyone’s names who make her job possible. “I just want to make sure I’m crediting all the hidden heroes.”

There’s the library staff and the generous library board. “This stuff costs money,” and as Miss Jean points out, the library isn’t generating any revenue. She’s thankful to Ada Morales, who co-hosted bilingual story time, providing a chance for Spanish speakers and Spanish learners to gather. She credits Stacie Rothlisberger for craft ideas, Rachel Soulek for prep work and custodian Denny Geidel for setting up tables for story time. Miss Jean wants to list many more names, if only I’d let her.

It’s hard to say no to Miss Jean, so I let a few more slide. There’s Avery Swanstrom, the soon-to-be seventh grader who volunteers and wants to be a children’s librarian. There’s no question, Avery’s picked the right mentor.

Miss Jean also thanks her own mentor Lori Wagner, who served as the children’s librarian for 26 years. Lori gifted Miss Jean Gilly, the goat.

I’d probably have to walk the plank if I didn’t mention Gilly. As Miss Jean puts it, “more people in town know Gilly than they know me.”

Gilly is a white goat puppet who lives on Miss Jean’s hand. Gilly’s a girl, by the way, a strategic move to head off curious kids.

She’s also Miss Jean’s emotional support puppet. “I do feel braver when I’m carrying Gilly.” It allows Miss Jean to get the ever-illusive attention of young children. They pause when they see Gilly whispering into Miss Jean’s ear. What is she saying?

How do I get my kids to read?

Mitchell Children’s Services Librarian Jean Patrick, or Miss Jean helps children pick out new books on July 18, 2024. (Megan Luther/Mitchell Telecom)

It’s summer, a dreaded time for some parents whose kids just don’t like to read. You add reading time to their daily chore list and an argument ensues. Let Miss Jean take the weight off your shoulders.

“You’re going to be just fine. They’re going to be just fine,” she says in her soft, reassuring tone.

And then, when you think a librarian can’t possibly relate, she volunteers, “I only batted one out of three.”

The children’s librarian, the author, the mother of three, raised one book lover.

But of course, Miss Jean’s children are all successful. “My mom empowered me to be who I was supposed to be,” as her daughter, Catherine Berdanier, tells it. “She never forced me to go into a box.”

Catherine, the book lover, is a mechanical engineering professor at Penn State.

Like all behavior, parents can model reading by sitting down with their own books. Miss Jean read aloud to her two sons who weren’t interested in reading, even when they were in middle school. “We would just delight in the story together. It gave us a bond.”

Her son Shea now reads to his two-year-old daughter. “I almost get teary, but I’m seeing the fruits of my labor —he uses funny voices when he reads, he memorizes books, he makes it fun.”

Each child is different and sometimes to inspire them to read, we parents need to think outside the box.

Her youngest son, Kendall likes to read manuals. On road trips, he pulled out the car manual and read it cover-to-cover. One time, in the middle of Nebraska, Miss Jean’s steering wheel locked up. Her eight-year-old son reached over and clicked a button under the steering wheel, releasing it. “And I said, ‘How did you know how to do that?’ And he goes, ‘Mom, I read.’”

The Great Froot Loop Disaster of 2017

If you think Miss Jean’s job is about reading books out loud and doing a simple craft, you are mistaken. A lot of preparation goes into planning for story time, including practicing the craft. Miss Jean learned the hard way. “I’ll tell you about the Great Froot Loop Disaster of 2017.”

It was Thanksgiving time and Miss Jean still new to the job, found a craft where kids trace their hand to make a turkey and put Froot Loops on the fingers to mimic colorful feathers. “Oh my goodness, this is so easy. This will be great,” Miss Jean thought.

But then the kids started eating them. And those who attempted to glue a leftover Loop onto their paper with a glue stick, couldn’t get it to stay.

“So then kids were starting to push it down, and of course, they get crumbly.”

Panicked, Miss Jean searched the library for liquid glue and found a big tub. She poured some out onto a paper plate for each table.

The Froot Loops started soaking up the glue. Fingers were licked. Pants were stained. And a lesson was learned: “You do every craft and anticipate everything that can go wrong before you bring it to the public. Not to say that I haven’t had disasters since then.”

Bowling in the library

Calvin Wieczorek, 6, of Mitchell rolls a soccer ball down the stacks to knock over books during Mitchell Public Library’s Book Bowling event on July 26, 2024. (Megan Luther/Mitchell Telecom)

It’s the Summer Olympics and a time for Miss Jean to connect books with athletic fun.

Today, on a Friday afternoon, it’s book bowling, where Miss Jean turns the adult non-fiction stacks into bowling alleys.

At the end of the aisle are 10 books standing at attention, all marked with a single strip of blue tape, indicating these books are destined for recycling. Miss Jean has just extended their life for another day.

“I just hope I don’t get fired,” she jokes. Of course she got her boss’ permission to bowl in the library.

It’s Calvin Wieczorek’s turn. The six-year-old rolls the white soccer ball down the stacks and watches as the upright books tumble. A strike!

“Yes!” He fist pumps with both arms.

Calvin’s a regular at story time and he’s another Miss Jean fan. “She sometimes makes voices.”

A soon-to-be seven-year-old girl, her brown hair half up in braids, with tears in her eyes is hesitant to bowl. “She’s too worried about damaging something,” her grownup says.

Miss Jean walks over and gently sits down on the floor next to the girl. She suggests waiting until the crowd thins. “There are no ‘have tos’. I will never make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

More than just a story

I hate to spoil the ending, to summarize the adventure and lessons learned, but, in the end, it’s not about the Olympics, the books, story time or craft chaos. It’s about welcoming children and no one does it better, says Miss Jean’s boss Kevin Kenkel, the Mitchell Public Library Director.

“When the children come in, she gives them her full attention, which I think is a rare quality in adults. She treats all children with the utmost respect,” he says.

Miss Jean doesn’t just see children, she validates them. She purposely buys books where all children can see themselves, whether they have a disability, brown skin or the desire to be an astronaut.

Miss Jean acknowledges children’s comments and encourages their curiosities. She’s beyond nice. Miss Jean is genuine.

“It goes back to the bigger issue, is I want every child who comes to the library to feel comfortable, to feel seen, to feel valued.”

Megan Luther, a lifelong storyteller, has called Mitchell home for more than 30 years.