Change is a Good Thing

The following article is meant to reflect my own thoughts and opinions about the re-opening of the Family History Library in Salt Lake City. While I currently work at the Library, these are my own thoughts, feelings, and observations, and not necessarily those of the organization at large.

I was 18 when I visited the Family History Library for the first time. Though I was young, I had been doing family history for many years and was currently studying in the family history program at BYU. I was a self-sufficient researcher, and I made the trek to the library for one purpose – to break through a brick wall.  

I wanted to ask a specialist a specific question regarding widows’ pensions from the civil war. it was a five-minute question, maybe less. I was hoping to know what information I could find in that record and if it would be worth ordering. I also hoped to learn about what books or films in the library collection might help me with the same problem.

I was living in Provo at the time and shared a car with my brother. In convinced him to meet a girl in Salt Lake for a date, and hitched a ride, telling him two hours would be plenty of time for me to get the answers I needed before meeting back up with him to drive home. My plan was perfect, except for one thing – I was young, and this was my first time at the library.

One of my professors in the first year of college tried to warn us of the perils of being a young person walking into the library.  “When you walk in the doors, DON’T MAKE EYE CONTACT” they said, “Keep your head down and take a hard right to the stairwell.” I was prepared to do that, I really was. I even rehearsed the plan in my mind before walking in. When I walked in, however, instead of keeping my head down, I look around for a map to tell me which floor to go to and in that process – I accidentally made eye contact with a missionary who quickly identified me as fresh meat and swooped in to snatch me up. “Is this your first time at the library?” they asked. “Yes,” I said, “I’m here to speak to a U.S. Specialist about military pension records” I explained as clearly as possible in hopes that they would direct me to the right floor and person and let me alone. I was sadly mistaken.  

The missionary adorned me with a “1st time visitor” sticker and herded me to a side room, the “Orientation Room” where they played a 20-minute video from the 80s on the joys of family history and why family history is important. After which, a very kind, but misguided gentleman proceeded to take me to a bank of computers on the first floor and ask me what my question was. Again, I repeated, “I’m here to speak to a U.S. Specialist about military pension records” 

“I am a U.S. Research Specialist,” he claimed, and he asked me to pull of the individual in question on my tree. Believing his claim to research knowledge, I logged into FamilySearch and navigated to the correct person in the tree. I explained the brick wall problem quickly and asked my questions about what information could be found on a pension and whether or not would it help me in this case.

“have you tried searching for census records?” he asked as he whipped out a little pointer stick created from a small wooden dowl and an eraser head and pointed to the place on the screen where I could search censuses. “yes…” I tried to explain but he was already moving forward, giving me instructions on how to run searches I had already run.

After making me check census records, vital records (that DON’T exist for the time period in question) and showing me how to add and edit names and sources in the tree – I understood that I knew more than he did about U.S. Research, and I was feeling quite frustrated.

“What I really need, is to talk to a specialist about military pension records,” I told him again, feeling like a broken record. Finally, he seemed to understand, and he escorted me to the elevators and took me up to the second floor. Once we stepped off the elevator, he walked me onto the floor and pointed to a desk near the back of the floor – “That’s where you can find a specialist,” he said, and then he made his back to the stairs and down to the first floor.

I found myself a seat at a computer and pulled up my tree again, then went to the desk to get help. But, as an 18-year-old introvert who had to leave in 20 minutes, I felt super overwhelmed. The desk was empty, and I didn’t know what the specialist looked like – at a point when having help identifying someone who could help me would have been ideal – nobody was there to be my guide.  The specialist didn’t come back to the desk in the next 20-minutes and I ended up slinking back down to the main floor and out of the door as quickly as possible. Vowing that I would never go back to the library after the way I was treated. 

Fast-forward three years, one mission and one marriage later, I was looking for a good summer job and came across a position for a Swedish Research Intern with FamilySearch. Assuming it would be more of a research-based job in Lehi or the Joseph Smith Memorial Building, I turned in an application and got a call a few days later.

The call turned into an interview – they gave me the address to the building and told me to meet in the glass conference room next to the stairs on the second floor.  Because I was busy with other things going on at the time, I didn’t actually look up the address until the day of, when I realized I was interviewing at the Family History Library. 

Embarrassed, but not willing to back out last minute, I set out on the drive to Salt Lake. A car crash made me about 15 minutes late for that interview, I came through the front doors of the library, hair tangled wildly from running from my parking spot to the building, and high heels in my hands. I walked in and quickly noticed the more open and inviting discovery center.  

Almost immediately, a missionary was by my side asking me what brought me into the library that day, “I have an interview and I’m late” I told them and asked them if they could go up and inform the interviewers that I was here while I used the restroom and tried to calm my nerves. The missionary was comforting and helpful, pointing me to the bathroom, and heading up the stairs to talk to the interviewers.  

Somehow, 15-minutes late, and flustered beyond belief, I made a decent impression and got the position. Now working for the library I vowed to never return to three years previously.

As an intern, I noticed right away that things had changed in the time that had elapsed. A new discover center had been added to the main floor that was open and inviting, allowing activities for guests to discover and connect with their family history, even if they had very little experience with family history. It was often filled with people of all ages, excited to learn and discover together.

The other floors of the library were structured in a way that made sense to me only after it was explained. There were several desks on each floor, where specialists sat, making them easy for guests to see and access. This worked well for the US floor, but the international floor had several desks, splitting the floor up into sections for each area of the world. It was not intuitive to a guest where they should go to get help – and required a lot of hand holding for someone to get to the right place. 

I noticed often that a missionary from the main floor would bring someone down from the main floor and sit them at couches near the front – they would them go to find someone who could help them and lead that person finally to a computer to speak with a missionary or specialist. This often left the guest waiting on the couch for 10-15 unnecessary minutes.  

Others got shuffled from floor to floor as missionaries attempted to figure out where they belonged without asking the guest enough questions to really understand the guest’s needs.  As a specialist myself at this point, I would often get tied up with the regular library visitors who knew who I was and were comfortable with me – when new guests came in, they were hesitant to ask for help, and many did not even realize I could help them. Even with the desks appearing more accessible – there still seemed to be a barrier between the guest and the specialists.  

As an employee at the library for the past two years, I have watched as specialists and missionaries alike brainstorm and work together to manufacture a better guest experience for patrons of all experience levels and abilities.

I think the library has come a long way with its new service model and here are the reasons I love it so much:  

1.  Every patron has equal access to specialists. Specialists at the library include those hired to research for specific geographic areas and skilled volunteers who have completed three tiers of training for a specific geographic area. Through the new waitwhile system – both our regular patrons and our out of towners have equal access to guest help without having to fight for time or attention. 

2. The desks on each floor are more inviting and less intimidating – before COVID shut down the library, it often felt like missionaries were waiting in front of each elevator ready to pounce whenever the doors opened. While this approach works for some people – many people felt very uncomfortable with this form of aggressive service. The desk adds a level of normalcy and safety to our service, where the guest can easily access help for questions without concern for their personal bubble being popped in the process.   

3. Specialists go to the guest – done are the days when you have to split up with your friends because one of you is researching in the US and the other in Sweden – not only is specialist help more easily accessible to every guest – it is more accessible to every guest on every floor of the library. We can come to you.  

4. Staff are more mindful of your time – while all the missionaries helping you have been trained to help with specific questions, they are also trained to escalate the question quickly if they do not know the answer – Bringing it to a professional who has more experience. While specialists are open to taking the time to sitting down and helping you with your problem, they want you to be successful without having to spend your whole day on one problem – the library has created a space for you where you can feel comfortable coming in for 20-minutes or two hours, and either way, they aim to help you leave with answers and direction, instead of disappointment and frustration.  

5. The library isn’t the only way to reach us. By going to the Family History Library website, you can access a plethora of tools to help you receive help from home after you leave the library – we offer online classes, consultations, record lookups, and digital collections that will help you to continue your journey of family discovery on your own, from the comfort of your home. 

6. This isn’t the end of change. The Family History Library has made it clear they are focused on the guest experience, with the goal of making genealogy accessible to anyone who walks through their doors. This means we must consult new technology, learn from guest feedback, and always be willing to adjust, either in small or large ways. As we keep a keen eye on our service, we hope to make the library a place where you will always feel important and at home. 

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