What makes a library special?
Sally Flint thinks there is more to library design than shelves and sightlines: a kind of magic is needed.
Defining that special place
As I’ve been preparing for my webinar on library design for the British and International Schools Library Network (BISLN), I found myself frequently revisiting what makes a library truly special. It should be easy—after all, I’ve had years of experience as a Head of Library. I’ve come to believe that for a library to truly be a library, it needs both a dedicated space and a librarian who brings it to life. During my time in this role, I’ve gathered my own ‘trade secrets’ on what should go into an inviting library: flexible shelving, spacious preparation areas, and a welcoming counter at the right height, where the librarian can keep an eye on things while staying approachable. But, even though my focus for the webinar has been on why layout is important, I can’t shake the idea of a library as a magical space where something more elusive is at play—something that seems to resist definition.
Watching a Harry Potter film recently, I saw a young Hermione Granger lugging around a heavy spellbook, yet completely unfazed in her love for the library. The scene resonated with me because it captures a library’s unique pull — how the space itself holds a kind of magical enchantment. My planning for the webinar remains focused on the importance of spatial design, but here’s the question: is it ever enough to concentrate solely on these physical details, or is there a deeper element that only emerges when these ‘trade secrets’ are combined and alive with use?
A place of well-being
Before well-being became the buzzword it is today, I’d somehow always known that a library should be a place where students feel they belong and are safe. This means more than just well-placed chairs or designated quiet and activity zones.
We know students enjoy a quiet corner for tackling a jigsaw and love the welcoming reading nooks, but what is it that truly makes the library a place where they can find peace and connection? Is creating a sense of belonging something that can be ‘designed’, or is it just part of it, growing naturally out of the interactions and intentions that shape the space every day? This question lingers as I reflect on library design and how every spatial choice can either foster or diminish that sense of belonging.
Beyond walls: the expanded library
I’m a big believer in extending the library experience beyond its walls: setting up ‘mini-libraries’ by the sports fields, or, for example, in the MFL department so students encounter library books across the school. Some argue that as digital resources expand, a central library space may no longer be necessary. But does this approach dilute the concept of a library as a safe, defined space?
Today’s modern library is further complicated by digital access and shifting reading formats. While digital libraries are indispensable for broadening access and reach, they pose challenges as well. We’ve all experienced unreliable internet connections, and the shift to digital raises questions about how students connect to the act of reading itself within the library space.
Formats like e-books and audiobooks, of course, have their place, but can they really match the joy of browsing a shelf or the smell and feel of a well-worn book? Or the pleasure that comes from chatting about reading choices with the librarian? The evolving mix of print and digital resources may complement each other, but they don’t fully replace what a library offers as a shared, tangible experience. And here’s another question: as libraries adapt to meet modern needs, is something lost in the absence of those ‘four walls’? By moving beyond the four walls, am I actually eradicating the library—and therefore taking the magic away?
The role of the librarian: guiding, teaching, or something more?
The librarian’s role, too, raises questions about how library spaces are designed and used. I’ve spent plenty of time teaching students essential skills—like understanding what makes a credible source and appreciating the value of reading. Teaching research skills, such as avoiding plagiarism, discerning reliable sources, and, more recently, using AI responsibly, is obviously important as these skills equip students for a world filled with information, where discernment is vital.
But as I teach within the library space, I often wonder where the line falls between guidance and formal instruction. It’s clear that structured teaching can help students master these skills, but at what point does too much structure begin to limit the free exploration that a library should encourage? This question keeps returning to me as I consider how to create a library that’s both a welcoming space for inquiry and a supportive environment for structured learning.
Returning to the magic
In the end, perhaps the magic of a library is its refusal to be “pinned down”. Is it the books that line its shelves, inviting a love of reading? Is it the students who shape the physical space into something meaningful, personal, and alive.
Or is it the librarians, connecting it all into a place that feels as open-ended as it is comforting?
What I’ve come to realise (not for the first time) is that libraries leave me with lots of questions—not only about their design (which is my current focus) and evolving resources, but also about the purpose and reach of the librarian’s role and how they can meet all of the students’ needs, both academic and pastoral. And as I keep returning to these questions, it strikes me that perhaps this endless curiosity is exactly as it should be. For a librarian, whose role is often about finding answers, it’s essential to remember just how valuable questions can be too. Libraries, after all, are spaces that invite their users to be curious, to be themselves, to explore freely, and to ask questions that may not have easy answers
Like Hermione Granger uncovering spells in hidden corners, we, too, find answers, discover new ideas, experience a sense of belonging, and, in the end, uncover something truly magical within a library space. That’s why, for me, a library without a building and without a librarian isn’t really a library at all.
Sally Flint, is a Senior Consultant specialising in school library development with Consilium Education and part of the team at the British and International Schools Library Network (BISLN)
