Reviving Borrowing: One Tool Library at a Time by Nuhamine Moges in conversation with Hailey Jordan
At first, you are oblivious to the profoundness of this phenomenon. When I was first introduced to the concept of a library of things, my mind immediately drifted back to my upbringing in Ethiopia. Growing up in a large family, sharing was not just a choice, but a way of life ingrained in us from an early age. One could say we interacted with each other akin to siblings, where our possessions were not just ours but everyone's. I can vividly recall instances when my mother would casually walk next door to our neighbors to get Shiro powder, Injera or onions if we ran out and she needed to quickly prepare a meal. This practice was not only common in my family but also in the wider community. My friends and I would also, during cultural holidays or school events, borrow from one another Habesha Kemises- a traditional Ethiopian dress.
These acts of borrowing and sharing were instilled in how I grew up and common anywhere I went in Ethiopia. I never gave them much thought until I arrived in America, where the cultural norms around ownership and borrowing were vastly different. I noticed everyone seems to exist in their own isolated bubble, and the idea of borrowing or sharing items with one another is met with surprise or skepticism. I concluded the prevailing attitude of America seemed to be that if you do not own an item or that item breaks, you go out and buy a new one, rather than repairing or borrowing.
Upon learning about tool libraries such as the Station North Tool Library (SNTL), I was shocked that such borrowing initiatives existed in America. The manner of borrowing tools from an establishment, essentially cycling from one individual to another, seemed almost utopian to me. As I delved deeper into this obscure idea of borrowing tools, I began to wonder why there were not more of these tool libraries around the world. The “encroaching capitalism that has overtaken our communities” that’s why, Hailey tells me.
Board co-chair of SNTL, Hailey, sat in an interview with me to share how borrowing initiatives are being implemented in our community one tool library at a time. Our conversation took place inside a garden just across the street from SNTL. As we talked, I could not help but notice the graffitied buildings surrounding the Tool Library, the two girls doing TikTok dances on the steps of their home, and the old man with the dog that waved as he passed us. I found the location of SNTL comforting—it was not in the middle of the city or in a gentrified area, but rather in a place that felt like a true neighborhood, a place where people live, work, go to school, walk their dogs, and garden. This setting made me wonder why a place like SNTL thrives in this specific neighborhood and why more neighborhoods don't have tool libraries of their own. Hailey notes that tool libraries need to be placed in areas “accessible to different folks in the community,” which is hard to implement due to financing, zoning restrictions, and the makeup and temperament of the community. In today's world, Hailey and I both find that a lot of models are extractive where “you need to keep coming back or you need to keep purchasing a thing or there's this sense of, I don't know, waste or having to buy things or pay to exist.” When compared to the ethos and economic model of the Tool Library, she emphasizes that “money is not a requirement to show up and be present and engage.” While there are fees for classes offered at SNTL, Hailey notes “they've got sliding scales, scholarships, and intentions to equip folks with the tools that they need to be self-sustaining.” I soon understood one of the many initiatives of the Tool Library was to make it accessible while reducing the burden of costs for potential members and students.
Another aspect to consider when looking at the lack of tool libraries across the U.S. is that these organizations are volunteer run. “That kind of commitment [that] is usually fueled by people wanting to be [in] a place, you know, like the people are invested in the community, they want to give back and show up [...]” is an aspect not usually seen in shared spaces, Hailey says. This led me to believe that SNTL's volunteers and their contributions are a crucial element of the library’s success. As Hailey puts it, the volunteers are “pouring something in and each of us [are] getting something valuable” out of the experience. She further explains, "if there is a problem, then we just build the solution. It's problem-solver energy." Hailey also notes the Tool Library's survival during the 2020 COVID-19 lockdowns and its subsequent rebuilding and revamping of programming, as demonstrations of the SNTL’s resilience. Crucially, Hailey acknowledges the dedication of the individuals who consistently show up to advocate for the Tool Library, to participate in SNTL programming, and to give their time and resources to the organization, emphasizing the uncommon nature of SNTL culture, which is tightly knit. She expresses a desire to see this culture of contribution and reciprocity in more spaces, an idea that resonated with me. I was reminded of the impact community driven initiatives can have on establishing a sense of unity and resilience.
Hailey was introduced to SNTL through her friend Jessa, who she describes as a major advocate for joining the Tool Library. Prior to joining SNTL, Hailey had anticipated a predominantly white, male demographic, akin to the stereotypical "maker bros" commonly associated with woodworking. She thought it would be “like going to a Lowe's or Home Depot [seeing] the manliest man.” However, the diverse and welcoming community challenged her preconceived notions. “The men who are a part of it are very different, wonderful, and kind,” she tells me, going on to say “and then there's also all these other people where I'm like oh my gosh I'm so glad that I met you and I didn't even realize that you were part of this community.” Hailey continued to express the uniqueness of the tool library's community in contrast with traditional business models, emphasizing the diverse and caring group of individuals in the organization.
Reflecting on her experience from her first day at SNTL, she shared with me, "I learned how to do the wiring for a light switch, and I was like oh my god that's amazing, I feel unstoppable.” How amazing would that be if I knew how to do that, I thought as Hailey’s excitement and confidence resonated with me. After being a member for a couple of years, she joined the first board as one of the co-chairs. In this role, she brings a unique perspective to the organization as a Black femme queer member, she adds to the board's collective insights. Considering Hailey’s experiences in other spaces such as Lowes, where she’s often felt talked down to, her involvement on the SNTL board has provided her with an opportunity to "to be intentional and reflect on my own experiences in the Tool Library," enabling her to “shape the space and understand its back-end philosophy.” This experience has led to her personal growth and speaks to the inclusive and open nature of SNTL, which encourages individuals from a range of diverse backgrounds to contribute, to grow, and to continue shaping the SNTL community.
As we delved deeper into our conversation, Hailey shared how the Tool Library has not only broadened her skill set but also enriched her perspective. "I have a better sense of the culture around the tool library, and I think it's pushed me to think more three-dimensionally," she explained, noting that her background as a graphic designer informs her approach to all kinds of work, including what she does at SNTL. "I’m often, like, 2D. How does it look pretty? And woodworking is a very different part of the brain just to wrap your head around how to make something work," she says. However, she continues, “I've gotten more confident” over time and recounts an impromptu project where she built a basic zine display that came out really well. With time and patience, she says, “there's just less fear around making and building.” It speaks to the library's ability to not only expand one's skill set but also to instill confidence and break down barriers that often discourage or prevent people from taking creative risks.
Being part of any board requires strategic decision-making skills and a commitment to ensuring the organization's success. Hailey, reflecting on her role as a board member, emphasized that, in the first year of the board, SNTL leaders worked to shift from a casual, intuitive organizational style to a codified and sustainable system of operating. The goal, she tells me, was to acknowledge and preserve prior processes that worked well while building out new systems and processes that were easy to understand and deploy. The board focuses on creating sustainable structures for communication and decision-making, ensuring all voices in the Tool Library community have a chance to be heard and valued. Hailey highlighted the importance of inclusivity and intentionality in this process, saying, "our job is to offer some sustainable structures for the communication loops to close and for folks to be engaged in the process of improving and shaping the future of the Tool Library." During this period of growth and change, Hailey remarked, they must also consider diverse perspectives from within the community. "Anytime you codify something,” she said, “it's like, oh, wait, did you include this and this and this? And then you have all of these perspectives on that play." This intentionality and inclusivity are crucial for ensuring the Tool Library remains a responsive organization that serves its community effectively. Eager to understand the board's community engagement strategies, I inquired about their methods for staying connected with the community's tool needs while also managing volunteers, fundraising, and maintenance. Hailey explained, "the board is all made up of volunteers or volunteer teachers, shop monitors, and people like me, a member." This composition ensures that everyone is actively engaged, grounding their work in a practical understanding of how the Tool Library operates and who it serves. She also emphasized the importance of social connections, noting that, when decisions are made at SNTL there’s, "never just the one individual in the room." The ethos of the Tool Library relies on the presence and input of multiple people, each of whom plays a role in making effective decisions and engaging in important discussions. This approach fosters inclusivity and ensures that diverse perspectives contribute to decision-making. The Library’s intersectional approach of managing its organization shows up in other ways, too. The Tool Library has created a welcoming space for the queer, trans, and nonbinary community members, addressing potential barriers to participation, demonstrating a proactive approach to inclusivity, and further enhancing community connection by welcoming all people into the space.
As SNTL is composed of individuals with diverse skill sets and various backgrounds, I had assumed there would be power dynamics at play, though Hailey says, “that doesn't come up very often.” She emphasizes the value of listening to those who had “different degrees of knowledge of the organization itself” of listening carefully to those who’ve been involved with the Tool Library for a long time and who have experienced its evolution over the past ten years. As a newer member, Hailey brings a fresh perspective to the organization, and this dynamic allows for a blend of operational experience and new insights at the board level. According to Hailey, the board's culture encourages asking questions and providing answers, mirroring the welcoming attitude of the Tool Library itself. The board's composition of various individuals demonstrates a commitment to inclusivity and a depth of knowledge that benefits the Tool Library's operations and growth.
Interested in what Hailey would like to see in SNTL’s future, I probed her thoughts. She expressed a desire to shift people's engagement from merely idealizing the library to using it in more routine ways, akin to utilizing the space of a traditional library. She emphasized her transformative experience of being at the Tool Library, noting “once you're at the Tool Library, then it all starts to make a lot more sense and you're like, oh my goodness, all of this is just right here all the time.” Hailey's work on the board underscores her commitment to active listening and inclusivity, essential for maintaining SNTL as a vibrant, inclusive, and active community space. This contrast in cultural attitudes towards ownership and sharing has deepened my appreciation for the community-oriented mindset of my upbringing and makes me hopeful that more organizations like SNTL will come to embody those values, too.
Finding Community by Alex Dong in conversation with Nino Budabin-McQuown
“Back in Washington, DC, I had access to a workshop and carpentry tools. When I left DC, I didn’t have access to those tools anymore, and I wanted to build a garden in Baltimore,” Nino told me as they recounted their early days at the Station North Tool Library. Starting off as a regular member of SNTL, Nino has now become a teacher at the library for about a year, instructing courses such as Intro To Urban Garden Design 101. Nino was excited to move to Baltimore, but, perhaps like many others who venture a life in Baltimore, they didn’t have a clear-cut why in their mind. “We were excited about Baltimore, but it wasn't like, 'Oh, we want to live in Baltimore.’” Baltimore can be great, be it the colorful Hampden Street, bustling Fell’s Point area, or the calming Inner Harbor view, life can seem like a blast here to visitors. But, life here can get gray sometimes. Aside from the literal gray sky accompanying the somewhat frequent rainfalls, Baltimore can feel monotonous. After all, even the glamorous Inner Harbor view gets old when it becomes a daily constant. Perhaps this is what drove Nino to want a beautiful, colorful garden.
The magical thing about SNTL is that it gives the why to people like Nino. “As soon as I walked into the Tool Library, I was like ‘Oh this is a place I can live, this is a city that feels welcoming and has the kinds of community that I feel like I really want to be a part of.’” SNTL is the reason why Baltimore became home for Nino. However, this charm of SNTL isn’t something that originates from the tool lending part of the library or the fact that SNTL manages a large inventory of tools. “The people who work here and volunteer here are all really dedicated to the community,” Nino told me, adding that the members of that community are “creative, interesting people who like to build things.” What made SNTL shine for Nino is the community it houses. Immediately after their introduction to SNTL, Nino felt a strong connection and a calling to stay: “I will admit a big part of [joining SNTL] was being excited by this community and excited by the people who are already a part of it and wanting to participate in that and get to know those people,” Nino told me.
Beyond giving them the motivation to build a life in Baltimore, SNTL also helped Nino pursue and expand their interest in gardening. Before becoming a teacher at SNTL, Nino had taught creative writing and English literature to undergraduates, even tutoring high school seniors during the summer. Already experienced with teaching, Nino also dreamt of instructing something that is extremely dear to their heart – gardening. Nino told me that they have been “growing and designing gardens for many years” and that there has always been a desire to share those experiences and know-how that can only be learned through hands-on work. Another important factor that drove Nino to pursue teaching gardening is the lack of relevant courses at SNTL despite the wide array of tools. “I saw that there were all these gardening tools," Nino said, “but there were no gardening classes. That was another factor in wanting to help develop a program there because there was a lot of stuff, everything you need to create a garden. But unlike a lot of the other tools, there were no classes around how to use this stuff most effectively.” Through the SNTL community, Nino not only got to further their love for gardening but also to use their skills to support others.
What particularly stood out about Nino’s teaching journey is the level of support coming from SNTL. For other organizations, merely creating and offering a wide range of courses may be sufficient. But that is not enough for SNTL. “One of the things that I really appreciate about the Tool Library is they put a lot of care when they're helping you develop a class,” Nino told me. “They really help, and they set you up for success by having you teach a test class, a prototype class, where volunteers and other librarians will come and take the proposed class.” Aside from SNTL’s robust systems that help with course development, volunteers and staff at SNTL are also enthusiastic about contributing to the process. “The last prototype, we got to the end and it was like, ‘Okay, the class is pretty good.’ But then…they had all these suggestions for games we could add in and activities we could do. I was bringing a lot of knowledge to it, but they had all these fantastic ideas for interaction. That really blew my mind and [that] upped my game in a big way.” The rigorous process that SNTL goes through to develop its courses demonstrates the quality of these classes. Moreover, this level of care, support, and enthusiasm from the SNTL community when it comes to course design speaks to what motivates SNTL as a whole – a sincere desire to help others use the tools available at the Tool Library to better their lives.
Aside from teaching, something that has impressed Nino is the level of connection that SNTL tries to build with Baltimore City. Being a community-oriented organization at its roots, SNTL tries to stay intimately connected to the greater Baltimore city. Through tool lending or offering courses, SNTL seeks to positively help and impact the residents in Baltimore. However, SNTL endeavors beyond just tool lending and teaching. “I can see that there's a lot of care that goes into creating partnerships and connections with other organizations in the city so that the Tool Library isn't just a standalone organization and just a community for the people who are part of it … I know there's a connection with Bliss Meadows Farm and the work that they're doing with [Johns Hopkins University].” Constantly aiming to impact more people and connecting with other organizations in Baltimore, SNTL is truly aiming to become one with Baltimoreans.
Of course, SNTL has also impacted Nino’s personal life outside of the Tool Library. Reasonably, SNTL has changed how Nino treats home repair projects. For Nino, something that they struggle with is starting a project that could be too challenging. “ I am always biting off more than I can chew with at-home projects.” Through SNTL, Nino has access to even more tools. Surprisingly, however, this access to a wide variety of tools helps Nino accurately evaluate whether a project is too much to handle. “One of the cool things about having access to any tools you want at any time is [that] I get into fewer scrapes of that kind. I'm like, ‘Okay, I can do that. Let me just make a checklist of what I need from the tool library.’ And then I make my checklist and then I'm like, ‘Oh, wait, this is a bigger project than I know what to do.’ So let me just set this aside and plan something smaller.” Still, with access to the Tool Library and a fantastic cohort, Nino has also been learning more and empowered to do projects that may have been impossible to fathom before. “It has let me learn new things. It has let me learn lots of new skills. And it just makes it possible when you think of something that you want to get done this weekend, you can just do it.” With this growing level of confidence, Nino has been able to tackle larger home repair problems and achieve a new level of agency over their property. “It's let me do a lot of my own home repair. I redid my deck. I had an older deck that was starting to fall apart… [But] because I had access to the tool library, all I had to do was look up how to do it.” Even though people may legally own their property, having to wait for another stranger to help with an issue at your house can feel frustrating, as if this property isn’t truly yours to manage. SNTL helps Nino achieve that sense of genuine ownership. Nino can do what they want to do to their house whenever they want. They want it, they got it.
Being a member of SNTL has also changed Nino’s relationship with their friends. For example, having access to SNTL gives Nino a new avenue to spend time with friends. “I met up with a friend a few days ago to go and get some wooden blocks .. for making carving spoons out of. And because we had both taken the spoon carving class here …we [got to] hang out and work on carving our spoons together as a way of socializing.” The next time you struggle to plan an impressive social gathering, SNTL may be the ticket to a unique and unforgettable Saturday afternoon.
Through SNTL, Nino has achieved a new level of agency over their property, discovered ways to continue pursuing their love of gardening, and found a place to connect with friends and those with similar interests. SNTL is not just a library. Rather, it is a social hub for people to find like-minded friends and liberate their creative souls and an organization dedicated to serving and connecting with the Baltimore community. Compared to their first days in Baltimore, Nino is now a truly anchored Baltimorean, teaching a class they dreamed of and living life with people that they love. Nino’s life is truly flourishing.
Maximum Influence from Any Position by Theo Acheampong in conversation with LaQuida Chancey
There I sat in a dimly lit room, scrolling through my Ipad, trying to conjure up notes in preparation for my Organic Chemistry exam the following day. As I flicked my finger upwards on the screen to a new page, I awaited the arrival of LaQuida. I was excited to meet Laquida, even though I didn’t know much about her. However, knowing she was African-American gave me some sort of zeal to ask for her view of the involvement of African Americans (like myself) within this vital community space of the Station North Tool Library. With each passing moment, my zeal swelled, fueled by the anticipation of uncovering new perspectives. Little did I know, however, that the forthcoming interview would exceed even my loftiest expectations, unveiling a takeaway that would leave an indelible mark upon my understanding.
LaQuida is beacon of knowledge who is an instructor at the Station North Tool Library, where she runs the shop safety course. Students in the class gather eagerly, as she introduces them to tools such as the bandsaw, scrollsaw, drill press, and many other pieces of equipment that are found in the SNTL’s woodshop. . One sign of LaQuida’s unwavering commitment to personal connection within the library is how she takes on the task of remembering everyone’s names “I pride myself on trying to learn everyone's name by the end of the class and I kind of make everybody laugh because I learn by association,” she told me, “so you would be Theo Huxtable [my name is Theo, hence Theo Huxtable] and I go around the room and I give everybody like a new last name because it's associated with the name in my head. So in real life that's how I learned, but and I wouldn't say Huxtable but my mind would say it; you know what I mean?” Her dedication into getting to know everyone turns what could be seen as just a class with teachers and people into a sense of community among learners. “I get to know the people [in class], and because I have a non-profit I'm able to find volunteers and source volunteers and talk to them about my initiative.”
The fascinating part of LaQuida’s involvement in the Station North Tool Library is how she uses her role to spark interest in her own non-profit organization named “Smalltimore Homes” —and vice versa. This non-profit organization is one that presently takes on the concern of homelessness in Baltimore through the building of microshelters. LaQuida through this organization uses her talents in tools aand crafts to help a prevalent issue of homelessness in Baltimore, especially among African Americans.
LaQuida described how her engagement with students in the tool library gave students the skills that helped her be able to run her non-profit. “I was their coach and basically showed them how these tools helped me to run my non-profit,” she said, adding that the course also helps students refine their own interests and skills. ““They learned how to use all the tools that I teach in the tool safety course,” she told me, adding that in the future, she’d like to teach entrepreneurial skills and to use innovative coaching skills to assist students with their own projects and goals. . The entrepreneurial skills LaQuida hopes to teach students are the same that she used to found her own non-profit organization. In the future, she wants to use both platforms to continue contributing to the diverse community of builders, students, and teachers that make up the community at Station North Tool Library.
So what does a day in the life of a teacher at the Station North Tool Library actually look like? LaQuida explained that a managing classes and students takes close, clear communication and “fellowshipping” with other teachers at the tool library. “I worked with my trainer Shawn and then another lady who were both very helpful and patient. When I teach courses, I'm able to use their same little tools and tidbits in my own presentations They allowed me to do multiple shadow sessions with them. Usually, you do one shadow session and then you start. I'm super nervous and always very anxious,” she said, “so they let me do multiple shadow sessions” until she felt confident and comfortable running classes on her own LaQuida highlights the openness of the community of people at the tool library, specifically the trainers and other members who helped train her and who made her feel confident in contributing to the work and success of the Station North Tool Library.
What about other people who may identify with the same race or background as LaQuida ? I was intrigued to know how she works to ensure the tool library is a safe and open community that’s inclusive of African Americans. She described a recent trip to South Africa and how her Tool Library knowledge came in handy. “I went with a group of black queer folk who are interested in the business of land sovereignty and black sovereignty, for that matter. When I’d meet children and tell them that I I build micro shelters and tiny homes, they're like you do it? Like, you use tools you know how to build things? Seeing that lights them up, and I’m like, I might as well just keep doing this work because it encourages them! They see it as oh my god this is possible, and then I'm like possible? You're about to do it! You're about to use this tool yourself! Let me teach you how to use it!” I'm hoping that when and if I do teach the public the equity course I can put it out there to all of my peers and all my friends,” she said. She wants that diverse group of people to come to the class so that what she’s learned can be of use beyond the walls of the Tool Library itself. LaQuida’s work with various community organizations makes her an intersectional change-maker, someone whose committment to uplifing Black communities aligns with her goals at SNTL.
Just as I inquired in interviewing a staff member of the tool library, I asked LaQuida what she believes is the root cause of the lack of intersectional and inclusive communities like the Tool Library. Her response was straight to the point. “Capitalism,”, she said. “Because there are no real consumables here, it limits how much money these types of spaces can make.” And if an organization gets too invested in its own growth and becomes money hungry, she told me, they can lose the community spirit that animates spaces like SNTL. LaQuida is clear about the difficulties of sustaining a place like the Tool Library, and about the challenges so many nonprofits face. She noted that the challenges of fundraising while remaining true to a mission often leaves organizations like SNTL “caught between a rock and a hard place.”
I asked LaQuida if organizations like the Tool Library can survive in the long run given that we live in a consumer culture that prioritizes purchasing over borrowing and sharing. . She detailed how capitalism is motivated by generating profits. And since communities like the Tool Library aren’t profit-driven and use a sliding scale for memberships, it is extremely difficult for other entities or people to interfere with that model because the financial stakes are comparatively low. . Ultimately, while there may only be few of these communities around the country, that’s not necessarily a bad thing at all. As LaQuida says of the Tool Library, it’s “perfect the way it is.” She even brought up the possible thought of a tool library engaging in partnership with a college or education system that could provide institutional support and capital. However, in the same breath, she remarked that any partnership with the Station North Tool Library has the potential to “soil it,” noting that even well-intentioned institutions don’t often put community first in the way that the SNTL does.
As the interview drew to a close and I reflected on the insights gleaned from my conversation with LaQuida, one profound realization hit me. Through her role as a teacher at the Station North Tool Library, LaQuida embodies this ethos, recognizing the potential for change and community-building within the spaces we build, inhabit, and maintain. Beyond her dedicated instruction in shop safety and tool usage, LaQuida's vision extends to the establishment of a non-profit organization, where she endeavors to bridge the gap between her students' learning experiences and real-world application in dealing with situations where people in their community may not have a place to stay. Through their learning and involvement in the organization, they can work to fix that as they create small houses, ensuring house security for many in Baltimore. LaQuida also fosters a collaborative relationship between Smaltimore Homes and the Station Tool North Library by inviting participants from the tool library to work, build, and engage in her non-profit. Moreover, her involvement in fellowships, particularly those centered on queer black people and equity initiatives, serves as a conduit for advocacy and empowerment for people often left on the margins of society. Leveraging these platforms, LaQuida amplifies her voice and expands the reach of her influence, drawing individuals from diverse backgrounds into the fold of the Station North Tool Library's vibrant community.
Innovation and Community Spirit by Ashar Keeys in conversation with Margie Ho
I had the opportunity to converse with Margie, a volunteer at the Station North Tool Library (SNTL), and pick her brain about what it’s like to be a part of the community. The SNTL is a community resource in Baltimore that provides access to a wide range of tools and equipment for its members. It operates on a membership basis, allowing individuals to borrow tools for various projects and DIY endeavors and offering classes in everything from plumbing to candle making. Volunteers like Margie have the opportunity to gain hands-on experience with a wide range of tools and equipment and may also receive training in tool maintenance, workshop facilitation, and other skills. It also allows individuals to connect with other members of the community who share their interests in DIY projects and craftsmanship. This networking can lead to new friendships, collaborations, and learning opportunities. Volunteers like Margie also play a vital role in supporting the operations of the Tool Library and helping it fulfill its mission of providing access to tools and promoting community engagement. By giving their time and expertise, volunteers directly contribute to the success of the organization. In talking to Margie, I was better able to understand the impact her experiences, motivations, and perspectives have on the Tool Library. .
Margie's journey with the SNTL is a story of innovation and community spirit. Originally from California, she traveled to Baltimore for her work at Johns Hopkins University. While in grad school on the West Coast, Margie worked her skills with tools, particularly running her university’s Bike Lab, where she evaluated and repaired bicycles for fellow students.
During her time in California, Margie encountered a unique concept known as the Repair Cafe, where individuals brought items in need of repair. This experience stuck with her, and upon relocating to Baltimore for her postdoctoral studies in neuroscience, she found herself tinkering with broken items at home. Curious if Baltimore had its own Repair Cafe, Margie searched for a similar program but came up empty handed. However, her membership at the Tool Library had allowed her to build a relationship with its co-founder, Piper Watson.
With her passion for community repair initiatives in mind, Margie reached out to Piper with the idea of establishing a Repair Cafe in Baltimore. Enthusiastically, Piper and the SNTL team took in the concept, and Margie played an important role in shaping it into something even more inclusive and impactful—a Fix it Fair that would be hosted by SNTL. She went on to say, “My approach to the Tool Library has been, it doesn’t exist, or this fair didn’t exist. So, let’s make it.” Margie's dedication and creativity earned her the title of Fix it MVP/Librarian at the Tool Library, where she continues to support others through DIY repair.
A Fix It Fair is an event where individuals can bring in household items that need repair and receive assistance from skilled volunteers and professionals to fix them. These events are often organized by community groups, non-profits, or local government agencies with the aim of promoting sustainability, reducing waste, and fostering a sense of community, which are also values espoused by the Tool Library
At a Fix It Fair, attendees typically bring in items such as small appliances, electronics, clothing, bicycles, and furniture for repair. Volunteers or experts are available to diagnose issues, provide guidance, and in many cases, actually repair the items on the spot. The fairs may also offer workshops or demonstrations on DIY repair techniques, recycling, and waste reduction.
Overall, Fix It Fairs are not only practical for renewing broken items but also serve as educational opportunities to learn skills that empower individuals to become more self-sufficient and environmentally conscious. Margie brought this wonderful idea with her to the Station North Tool Library, and it has become an important part of the Tool Library’s programming.
Margie describes the Tool Library as a place where diversity is evident. As she transitioned into her role as a librarian, she faced questions that she didn’t know the answers to on her own. Despite not being a homeowner herself, having spent years as a renter, Margie understands the occasional need for DIY fixes. She embraces the idea that it's perfectly normal not to have all the answers or all of the tools readily available for such repairs. Collaboration is fundamental at the library, and Margie describes often working with another librarian to make sure that when there’s something she doesn’t know, the librarian with her can teach her. The atmosphere is one of trust and generosity, with people always ready to share their expertise and guide others toward solutions. Margie goes on to say, “I like that people are rewarded for their curiosity. There’s no shame in saying ‘Hey, I don’t know how to do that’ or ‘I didn’t know how to do that.’ People are very sharing of that knowledge.” It's this culture of mutual support that makes SNTL more than a place where you can pick up tools—it's a special community where people pitch in to help one another.
Margie also emphasizes the Tool Library's role as a community hub. With a growing number of volunteers, there are many opportunities for involvement. Over time, volunteers become engaged with the different roles available, allowing them to follow their interests and tailor their contributions. Margie found her spot in the internal fix-it role through her involvement in the Fix It Fair and interactions with other volunteers, librarians, and craftspeople. This process of shaping one’s interests and skill set happens naturally, and is carried by curiosity and supported by the librarians of the SNTL.
After so much time in the Tool Library, Margie has come to see herself as more of a fixer than a craftsperson or builder. Her time spent repairing bikes served as a catalyst for her curiosity in fixing things. Looking at the ins and outs of bicycle mechanics sparked a broader interest in how things are built, operated, and maintained. With each new challenge, Margie says she becomes more confident in her ability to troubleshoot and repair. She's figured out that many items are surprisingly simple to fix once you understand how they work. Margie looks at each repair with an orderly mindset, evaluating whether replacement parts are available and if the item is fixable. In today's world of modular design, Margie finds that solutions are often within our reach; you just need to figure out the problem and determine the right fix. Online resources like YouTube have become important tools, too, offering seemingly limitless tutorials and guidance for a wide range of repairs. With this knowledge, Margie feels empowered to take on challenges herself or, when necessary, to seek help from experts.
The SNTL has been a big help in boosting Margie's confidence to dive into DIY projects at home. However, one downside she's encountered is the tendency to hold onto items longer than necessary, as she's optimistic about her ability to repair them herself. Despite this occasional clutter, Margie's handiness proves useful in multiple ways. Not only does saving and repairing her own things save her money, but it also allows her to maximize resources by breathing new life into items that would otherwise have ended up in the garbage.
Margie feels genuinely capable of tackling challenges head on, thanks to the skills and knowledge she's acquired through her involvement with SNTL. If she ever faces an issue, she knows she can rely on her network of friends within the community for support and guidance. She backs this up by saying, “I always feel fairly capable of trying to figure something out. And if I have issues, I know exactly who to call on.” This sense of community further pushes her DIY projects, reassuring her confidence to tackle any task that comes her way.
Margie also expressed some of her concerns for the future of the SNTL. As the Tool Library has expanded over time, it's brought both benefits and challenges. While its growth is important, it's made it increasingly difficult to create personal connections within the community. Margie acknowledges the emphasis placed on volunteer engagement by the staff, commending their efforts. However, she observes that despite frequent interactions between volunteers and staff, getting to know fellow volunteers can be difficult. She explains when she says, “I found it hard to get to know people when I first started and I felt very awkward because I’m asking people to volunteer for things and they don’t know who the hell I am.” Margie pushes for a more diverse volunteer base, understanding that those willing to donate their time represent only a portion of Baltimore's population. To address this, Margie suggests increasing outreach efforts to raise awareness of the SNTL across different communities in Baltimore City. By collaborating with organizations that serve a broader demographic, the SNTL can expand its reach and make sure its services and classes are accessible to more people. Marhie goes on to say, "A lot of it is simply about getting people through the door to ask, 'Hey, what is this space?' It's a place where you can take classes, learn how to use tools, access the woodshop or craft classroom, and essentially get to know this entire resource." Additionally, she focuses on the need for continued organizational development, noting the establishment of leadership positions for volunteers and a dedicated board to oversee operations. These aspects have helped smooth processes and support the staff in their roles.
Despite these advancements, Margie says that many in Baltimore are still unaware of SNTL's existence. She emphasizes that the tool library is open to everyone, regardless of skill level or membership status, offering a wide range of classes for diverse interests. For homeowners not just in Baltimore looking to save money and acquire DIY skills, SNTL presents a useful and unique resource. Margie hopes to see greater awareness and utilization of SNTL's services, allowing more individuals to tap into its benefits and improve their lives through hands-on learning and community engagement.
The Station North Tool Library has changed Margie's perception of libraries of things in a positive way. She now sees libraries not purely as buildings filled with stuff, but as places of community interaction and collaboration. In Margie's eyes, SNTL is really a "library of people," a place where a diverse group of individuals can come together to share knowledge, skills, and experiences. For Margie, the Tool Library embodies the concept of a "third place," an environment that’s not your home or work, yet equally important to one's sense of self, belonging, and connection. It serves as a spot open to all, that’s inclusive and accessible for everyone in the community. In this regard, Margie views the Tool Library not just as a resource for tools and equipment, but as a necessary community space that improves lives and strengthens bonds among its members.
Margie’s story is an example of the profound impact that community-based initiatives like the SNTL can have on a person’s life. By creating a culture of collaboration, learning, and empowerment, SNTL continues to inspire and improve the lives of its members, one DIY project or Fix it Fair at a time.
The Art of It All by Sadie Friesen in conversation with Thomas Thebaud
Thomas finds me on a lazily hot afternoon, hiding from the sun at a shady table on the campus of Johns Hopkins University, fifteen minutes before our proposed meeting time. I feel him hovering briefly and look up to see a man holding a small ceramic coffee cup in one hand, his free hand tentatively outstretched. After we confirm that we are, in fact, the people who had arranged to meet over email, he sits down in the wooden chair next to me and waits while I decide where to begin.
Through our official introduction, I learn that Thomas is an assistant research scientist at Johns Hopkins, working with AI related to language and speech. He moved here about a year ago and quickly became involved with the makerspace on campus and stumbled upon the Station North Tool Library on the recommendation of a friend who is unaffiliated with the university. That was two months ago. Now, he has attended two classes at SNTL. "We can put our mind to something different than our work to release the stress," Thomas says, smiling between sips of coffee.
Despite his limited experience with SNTL, Thomas is struck by the space and its possibilities, both physically and functionally. He describes his first time stepping into the tool library, likening it to a laboratory in its apparent mess and buzz of people “actually doing things.” Soon after entering the workspace, he says, his eyes adjusted to the clutter, and he was able to make sense of what he saw around him. Much like a laboratory, what at first appeared chaotic gave way to a clearer observation: that the space was intensely organized, albeit in a less-than-conventional way. “Once you know where everything is, it’s a nice impression,” he recalled. You “just feel like you could come walk in at any time and say, oh, I want to do something, and it’s here. Everything’s here.”
Thomas is not entirely new to the world of lending and repair programs. Growing up in France, he would go to the médiathèque near his home. He said it was “like a library, a place where you can rent books, board games, video games, movies, music.” For a modest membership fee of $5 per year, a kid could “go there and take whatever is interesting to you.” At this point, it begins to make sense to me why Thomas felt immediately drawn to the idea of a tool library, and why he didn’t seem to question it. Although it was his first time seeing a tool library, his experience growing up had primed him to be comfortable with the borrowing, use, and return of “things.”
This is not his only experience at a tool-focused organization in Baltimore, either. Thomas is a user of Velocipede, another non-profit workspace only a mile away from SNTL which focuses on bike maintenance and repair. I had never heard of Velocipede before, so Thomas gives me a run down on the organization. It is a functional space that has helped him to tune up and repair his bike, which he uses often, through advice and access to tools and materials. It has been useful to him, but when putting the two side-by-side, he notes that SNTL fills a very different niche. “Station North feels more about creation. You want to create something. You might have some issue at your place, and you want to fix them and need just the right tool for that. But you have a lot more people that are just about, I feel, building something.” The lack of agenda, the lack of a necessary end or specific purpose, seems to be what inspires Thomas. He wants to create, and SNTL gives him the space, opportunity, and knowledge to do just that. “It could be artistic, it could be practical. But you come here to do something more than just repair. There’s a broader range of options.”
The art of it all inspires me, as well. I wanted to know everything he imagined making, what sorts of creations he could envision building once he develops a deeper knowledge base and gains more experience during open shop hours. In answering my questions, he once again brought me back to his childhood. “Woodworking, I’ve done a bit of that. My dad has most of the tools at his place, so I was used to that. I just find the feeling of woodworking really nice.” He describes a class at SNTL which really piques his interest, where you learn how to turn pieces of found wood into usable boards for woodworking. He is already dreaming up possibilities for furniture pieces that he can construct using found lumber, detailing how a friend of his recently cut down a tree. “I was thinking I could get some parts of the trunk to make chairs or a nice table, keeping some of the shape of the [trunk],” he says, “so I asked him, can you keep that in your garage, and we’ll try to find a way next month?” Using found lumber would save these beautiful trees from ending up in the landfill, Thomas notes, would provide him with the equivalent of a designer table, and would feel good to physically make and accomplish. A win on all accounts.
Thomas’s tangible plans for honing his woodworking skills are paired with newfound interests, as well. “Metalworking, I’ve never done that. And I would really like to try. And having the opportunity in the center of the city – I don’t have a car or anything, so going outside to the countryside to find a blacksmith can be hard – so getting in the middle of the city and trying that is a great feeling.” This is not the first time that he has brought up the way SNTL makes him feel. The organization offers him the space to feel good physically and mentally, from working with his hands to create something out of wood, to the accomplishment that finishing a project or trying something new generates. Knifemaking, the class that Thomas was referencing in his excitement about metalworking, is one of those skills that would be difficult to learn anywhere else. With the tool library so close to his home, he can branch out – not only to forget about the stresses of work, but to expand into new hobbies and broaden the scope of his daily activities and life. “I love the opportunity of being able to have a project,” he says, and I can relate. The act of having a project deepens my own sense of self and, of course, makes me feel good. We want to “do something,” as Thomas described at the very beginning of our talk. Hobbies and creative outlets make most of us (at least me and Thomas) happier and, as a bonus, able to apply ourselves to our work in more informed and meaningful ways. Taking classes at SNTL is one possible avenue for developing these hobbies, as Thomas points out.
As the conversation continues, our shade begins to creep away. "Sun is coming," Thomas laughs, looking around as it starts to touch the corners of our chairs. I hadn’t realized how quickly time seemed to be moving. Talking with someone new is another creative outlet, I suppose.
When I ask what he finds to be most valuable about SNTL, he jumps in immediately and says “the opportunity to bring the tools home” as having both financial and environmental benefits. He expands on this by describing how it’s not only the ability to have the tools, but also to have access to the knowhow and confidence built through interacting with people at SNTL. Thinking about completing projects at home, he says, “I guess that you have a lot of people that just need to be told it’s doable. They can do it themselves.” The idea of empowerment through knowledge and encouragement is valuable for many of us. He sees the tool library as a place that can give people permission to try new things and new approaches to problems. “That’s the main point,” he goes on, “That’s why I’m doing the classes. It’s cool to produce a nice little object at the end. But mainly, it’s to be able to say, oh, I did that once, so I know how complex it is or how simple it is. And so once I’m back home, I can do it.” This holds true for both the creative projects he outlines and more practical skills, like 120-volt electrical wiring, which is another skill he hopes to acquire.
By the time our conversation comes to a close, the sun has drifted solidly over our faces. While not having changed at all, Thomas had gone from someone I knew practically nothing about, to someone who I could envision working in the Tool Library to build objects, community, and skills. His ideas and dreams are not only exciting but seem completely plausible given my own experience at SNTL. I can almost see his future chairs, knives, and electrical projects. He pushes his chair back and stands up, picking up his mug. He looks at the time. “I have an hour until my next class now,” he says, plunging back into the world of academia. Waving, he walks away towards it.
Humanity’s Glue by Nuhamine Moges in conversation with Rebecca Baxter
Growing up, the library I knew held instruments for knowledge not tools. This year, I quickly realized that a tool library is home to similar, maybe even more, wisdom.
Opening a new hardcover book is akin to entering a familiar yet enchanting realm. As I page through the first few chapters, the scent of fresh paper, the bold, black ink, and the woody smell captivate and trap me in the moment. When I first stepped foot into the Station North Tool Library, I felt as if I had entered that exact magical world; the earthy smell intertwined with the sharp metallic scent, transported me back to my childhood days when I used to help my father fix items around the house. The library was filled with tools and arranged with the same precision and care as words on a page. Each one a potential instrument for building and learning, waiting to be explored.
When I ventured further into the space, the high ceilings and the organization of the workshop area surprised me. Upon first hearing about the tool library, I had assumed the space would be rusty and unkempt, filled with white men working on projects to renovate their home. However, my judgment was unfounded and based on preconceptions of the tool library. After being introduced to the tool library and placing myself into the environment, I delved deeper into what makes the place an enhancement to the Baltimore community and the environment at large.
As I go through my day to day interactions, I worry our society is drifting away from genuine human connections, a priority in this world. The rise in conflicts, gradual erosion of trust, and our society's increasing focus on overly consumerist behavior all seem to contribute to this distancing. In today's age, the question of “Do you consider yourself a builder, fixer, or a craft person? ” seems easy to answer. However, as humans have shifted towards purchasing over repair behavior, one might find themselves stuck to answer this question. What do you see yourself as?
“I'd definitely say I'm a craft person,” Rebecca tells me during an interview at the Mudd Hall of Johns Hopkins University. “I like doing stuff with woodworking or sewing and stuff like that [...] I'm definitely learning how to become more of a fixer. But that's a work in progress,” she says.
Rebecca works at the Station North Tool Library as a librarian and is a third-year student at Johns Hopkins University. Her story as a librarian began in June 2023 as part of the Community Impact Internship Program (CIP) at Johns Hopkins and has expanded with her time at the library. Rebecca came in eager to learn about woodworking and has not only honed her craft but also gained a community. We sat in Mudd Hall on the Homewood campus, next to a large window overlooking the forested area near Bloomberg Hall, to dissect a chapter of the Station North Tool Library.
“I started working over the summer as basically a full-time intern,” Rebecca tells me, “and I've continued doing shifts throughout the school year.” As I listened to her journey, I was eager to hear what brought her back.
“I feel part of a community there,” she said with a smile.
During her shifts, Rebecca reports that she’s able to “talk to people and hear about the projects they're working on, ” adding that SNTL members are “always really interested just to hear about your day and what you're interested in and stuff like that [...].” What a way to bridge the interaction gap, I thought. Considering the Tool Library is composed of individuals from a variety of backgrounds and life experiences, being involved can be an avenue to connect people of different ages, socioeconomic statuses, ethnic backgrounds, and professions. Rebecca is also a student, and emphasizes the importance of maintaining networks outside of the “Hopkins bubble.” “You have this network of people who know stuff,” she says, “so you're not just gaining community experience with other people who are into fixing things [...] but you're also getting community with people who work for this non-profit that you want to partner with [..] or in a field that you're interested in.” For Rebecca, it’s clear that the relationships she’s built at SNTL are critical. There are “so many connections that you can build,” she emphasizes.
As we continued conversing, I could sense the friendly and welcoming aura Rebecca described about the tool library radiating off of her. Flipping towards common concerns shared by others, including myself, prior to entering a tool library was the lack of knowledge about tools; however, the Station North Tool Library defies that. In her role as a librarian, Rebecca recounts being nervous before starting at the Tool Library and feeling afraid that she would be questioned about tools she didn't know how to use. However, she pivots and shares with me, “the cool thing is that no one there knows everything, and I think we do a good job of setting the expectation that no one will know everything.” She adds that if she doesn't know how something works, she’ll suggest she and the member look it up together. It’s relaxing, she says, “instead of feeling like you have to have all the answers all the time.” The organization's creation of a safe space, even for its staff, was truly inspiring. While many workers are typically expected to know every detail about their organizations, the ability to step back and collaborate on solutions alongside SNTL members builds connections and exemplifies the inclusive nature of the Tool Library.
The Station North Tool Library operates on a system of trust, with Rebecca playing a pivotal role as a librarian. As a librarian, Rebecca mentions that “making decisions about when you're just going to trust that someone is going to return the tool on time and not stress about it or bother them,” is a tough call. In a world where trust is often lacking and divisions are prevalent, the efforts of the tool library aim, in small steps, to reconcile these rifts. Note that it's not the fact that trust is solely a convenience here; it's the foundation the Library stands on, and through its careful cultivation, the Tool Library nurtures and rebuilds trust within the community. If borrowing books fosters trust, then why not extend that same trust to borrowing tools, and by extension, to the entire community?
As we were progressing in the interview and gaining a sense of comfort, Rebecca made me realize that books and tools can both be instruments of resilience, empowerment, and self-sufficiency. Intrigued by the impact her experience at the Tool Library has had on the way Rebecca thinks about herself and her home, I decided to delve deeper into why she feels so passionately about the SNTL. “I've definitely learned how to just push through stuff and figure stuff out even when I'm like I have no idea what I'm doing,” she tells me. Rebecca draws inspiration from working alongside Leanna Frick, the director of strategic growth at SNTL and my colleague this semester, who often emphasizes, “the audacity to try” even in the face of uncertainty and potential failure. This mindset enhances Rebecca's character but also makes her “success all the more rewarding.” Rebecca reflects, “just having grit and determination [...] is an important life skill. Inevitably, failure will occur, but when you do succeed, it's that much more rewarding because you're doing something that you weren't sure you could do.” Rebecca also describes how the Tool Library taught her to persevere and problem-solve, even when faced with daunting challenges. This resilience, she explains, is one of the most valuable lessons she’s learned to value at SNTL.
Flipping back to Rebecca's first day at SNTL she shares with me she “was not prepared to have to talk that much to people [...] but they were really nice and the food was really good.” Experiences like this helped Rebecca become more comfortable conversersing with strangers and taught her how to comfortably and kindly “engage with people in community.” Additionally, reflecting on a core memory she had her first summer at SNTL, she recalls Leanna teaching her how to make a cutting board. “They're actually really easy to make, so it was fun to be able to make something that I now use probably every week when I cook dinner for the week.” By the end of her summer internship, Rebecca expressed to me, her experience helped her understand what she would aspire her future workplace environment to mimic- one similar to SNTL.
In terms of her home, as she resides in an apartment, Rebecca doesn't utilize many tools for her living space. However, as part of the ballet company, there have been instances when the Tool Library has come to her rescue for designs, props, and costumes. “Sometimes there's stuff where I'm like, oh, it would be really useful if I had a box cutter or a like fancy screwdriver [...] so I'll borrow that from the Tool Library.” Instead of being involved with the purchase over repair trend, Rebecca practices, even for the smallest of tools, the act of borrowing from the library. How would the world look if you borrowed from a neighbor?
“Self repair makes it that much more personal and valuable, which I feel is probably good for your mental health,” she tells me. “Being able to [feel] like I can make this or I know how to fix this [...] having that knowledge and feeling like you have control over a situation is really empowering.” The benefits of seeing the outcome of something you physically repaired or built also enhances one's self esteem. Just as books empower individuals with knowledge and ideas, tools aren't much different, enabling creativity and repair. Instead of consumers resorting to purchasing tools, the Tool Library provides an avenue to become creators and problem solvers. This shift in perspective can also help foster a more fulfilling way of life that is less dependent on consumption and, in return, helps create a more sustainable and less wasteful environment.
Of course, SNTL isn’t just a place for borrowing tools or taking classes. It’s also a shared space where creative minds can come together. SNTL holds other events for volunteers, members, outside organizations, and truly is a “community space,” Rebecca informed me. Its inclusiveness ranges across many demographics and the Tool Library even hosts open shop hours specifically for those who may be underrepresented or uncomfortable joining the woodworking community, including women, nonbinary, and gender non-conforming individuals.
In terms of what the future holds for the SNTL, Rebecca envisions various innovations, including “potentially having some sort of mobile van or something that could go around so that we could reach more people.” However, Rebecca emphasizes the scarcity of the staff size limits their ability for such innovations, a common obstacle faced by most libraries of things. I admired her genuineness and enthusiasm for expanding the Tool Library’s reach, “I'd definitely love to see more outreach and partnerships with some of the majority black neighborhoods within the city,” she tells me. Rebecca describes numerous of the valuable community projects currently underway in Baltimore, such as cleanup efforts and home repairs, and imagines a future in which easy access to the Tool Library's resources can enhance their impact and strengthen community bonds.
The Tool Library is not solely a place where people can borrow tools and take home repair classes but also an organization that prioritizes the discovery of new skills, passions, and ways of interacting with the community, regardless of one's position in the world. Once the interview was over, I felt as if I had just closed the hardback cover book and all the magic and earthy scent dissipated. As books usually leave me with new perspectives, the interview left me to reconsider and see vividly the direction our world is heading. Is there hope for humanity?
Opening the Curtain by Alex Dong in conversation with Vanessa Kelly
I was sitting in the office of the Station North Tool Library as I waited for my first interviewee. The room had a brownish-black hue with a dimly lit lamp hanging on the ceiling, the type that reminded me of scenes in detective movies. Around the office, there were happy group photos and event T-shirts. Still, amidst the rather laid-back atmosphere, the chair felt cold to the touch even after a fair amount of time had passed as I waited for Vanessa. Perhaps it’s the Asian in me speaking, but I had never truly trusted community service organizations. Is this non-profit organization attracting the genuinely altruistic, or instead the holier-than-thou people seeking to craft their next perfect Instagram story? Armed with this rather self-righteous curiosity, I waited for my interviewee.
Vanessa walked in wearing a blue, sporty jacket, the kind that felt rugged, and a water bottle that had clearly seen some use. We smiled at each other and exchanged pleasantries, although I was a bit stiff as it was also my first-ever real interview. I awkwardly transitioned into the interview and clumsily marched onward with the questions I had prepared. Vanessa began to tell me about why she took an interest in SNTL. “I took a wall repair class– I have a lot of old walls in my home,” she told me. As I was listening, I took notes, writing down that she had just bought a house when she joined SNTL but stayed after the classes because she enjoyed the company of the people. “I’ve just come up on a year of volunteering, and this place is like no other,” she added before I could ask the second question. To be expected, I thought, as I jotted down my notes. She is a volunteer here, so it’s obvious that she loves this place.
To be honest, I don’t like to be wrong. Coming from a lifetime of fierce academic competition, being wrong feels like an unforgivable sin. I tried. I tried very hard to prove to myself that my initial conviction was the only truth. But, as I progressed through my questions, I could not help but realize something surprising. There were no mentions of the word volunteering at all in my notes. The only words that appeared in every single response were “people,” “kindness,” and “community.” “Everyone is very very friendly and accommodating and just wanting to help … I think that’s kind of a prereq to being part of the Station North Tool Library,” she told me. The major force that drives Vanessa to join SNTL is not a sense of obligation to volunteer. It is a genuine love for the people and the community that SNTL offers. What I began to realize is that people volunteering at the Tool Library aren’t there to volunteer. The people at SNTL are there for the joy of living life with each other. Suddenly, I noticed that I was leaning on the table as I listened to Vanessa’s answer. The interview melted into a conversation.
Growing up in Asia, I often heard news about charity organizations turning out to be elaborate scams. In high school, volunteer work became a prerequisite for college admission. Even in college, volunteering can be little more than a checklist for pre-med students, not a passion. I rarely saw people join non-profit organizations like SNTL out of personal investment. Slowly, I came to associate volunteer work with something done for show, and this belief only froze more with time. Hearing Vanessa’s story, I began to see that organizations such as these can be more than monotonous machines aiming to meet monthly quotas. The Tool Library is not just a library of tools. It is a hub for people to find friends and an anchor that ties people to Baltimore. “I look back at all the time that I’ve spent at the tool library, and I don’t think that I would love Baltimore as much as I do without the tool library”, Vanessa told me. “I love all the conversations that I get to have with people of all ethnicities, people of all skill levels. You really feel integrated.” The community aspect of SNTL is so crucial to Vanessa that the only improvement to the Tool Library she could think of was more staff outings and social events. SNTL is what makes Baltimore home for Vanessa, and Vanessa’s love for SNTL is even more obvious given how much she advertises it willingly. “I’m a huge cheerleader to this place, so I have really, really bigged it up to so, so many people,” she told me. Something in my heart started to melt.
The next aspect of SNTL that Vanessa spoke most about is the growing empowerment she felt over her house. As a sophomore undergraduate, I don’t have too much experience with taking care of a home. However, living in an old college dorm, at the very least I know the pain of a clogged bathtub, floors that scream with every step taken, and light bulbs that constantly flicker. Most importantly, I know the helplessness when a housing office refuses to send someone for repair. The most tempting thing to do when I face a daunting repair problem is to make a phone call for someone else to do the fixing. At least that was the case before my interview with Vanessa. The confidence oozing out of Vanessa when it came to repairs was exceptional. The tone, the body language, and her constant eye contact with me spoke to her confidence and authority. Of course, this doesn’t mean that the tools are easy to use. “There’s always two librarians here, and our knowledge always varies greatly. But we’re here to help you as much as we can and,” she added with a smile, “we have the internet.” The intimidation of oddly shaped tools with the potential to cut off your arm is certainly real, but SNTL creates a system and a community that helps you and wants you to overcome the initial fear of using these tools. The time Vanessa had spent at the Tool Library, for example, has given her a completely different outlook. “I look at [my home] a whole lot differently. I got to make my own coffee table and use the tools to redo my ceiling in my house,” she told me. “My confidence has grown in really being able to tackle things.” This confidence doesn’t come from a perfect, intuitive, step-by-step manual for every tool and every project out there. Rather, it comes from the system and the people who want to help you accomplish your goal and understand what’s possible to achieve using the tools and resources at SNTL. “If I don’t know something, I can ask this community […] I love helping people. So it makes me feel confident to be able to know I can ask for help and also to offer help.” People at SNTL are like Vanessa, seeking help, offering help, and growing together.
Beyond a sense of authority over one’s own property, SNTL offers a practical and cheap solution to home repair. “There’s this fantastic class. You don’t have to have any experience, and they will cover the issue you’re having right now and it’s at an affordable rate”, Vanessa told me. In a day and age when home repairs can cost tens of thousands of dollars (even more for older properties), SNTL is a gateway to saving thousands. Moreover, SNTL offers approachable, accommodating classes for beginners. As someone who recently took an introductory class there, I can acknowledge that the teachers were eager to help and that the course was hands-on, informative, and beginner-friendly. Between expensive contracted work and cheap, approachable classes with access to all the tools one can fathom, SNTL definitely offers a unique and enticing solution.
Aside from the impact on individuals, SNTL helps the greater community of Baltimore City. The obvious one is the tool lending aspect of SNTL. “All these old homes of Baltimore have their issues.” So, having access to classes and tools can really help Baltimoreans overcome the, unfortunately, recurring plumbing, electrical, or general repair problems that old homes have. Beyond repair, SNTL is a space for personal pursuits. “Even if you’re not interested in tools, there are lots of other avenues like the Fix-It Fair–a free event where people are encouraged to bring items to SNTL where volunteers will help the repair process by providing tools and guidance– or you want to take a class on sewing […] I mean this place is just so very much a space for a great number of different types of interests and likes,” Vanessa told me. In a city where houses can lack that additional footage for garage projects, SNTL offers you an oasis to build your dream.
So far, SNTL sounds perfect. So why is this the first library of tools I have ever heard of? The answer is simple – it is challenging to run and difficult to attract members. “I’ve seen the amount of effort it takes to run a place like this. It’s a huge endeavor to be able to pull off and incredible that the library just celebrated 10 years”. It takes time, money, and people, especially passionate people, to build this type of supportive system.
By the end of our conversation, I realized that half an hour had already passed. I thanked her for her time and looked down at my notes. I grabbed a sip of my coffee and looked around the room once again. The chair was no longer cold, and the room felt a little brighter. For me, the conversation made SNTL concrete, no longer just a place with a self-proclaimed title of a non-profit community organization. The Station North Tool Library is just people, people like Vanessa. Like opening the curtain in the morning, the truth felt warm, and I left my seat with a smile.
Reimagining by Sadie Friesen in conversation with Vivek Doshi, Chicago Tool Library
“I found out about the Chicago tool library, actually, on a flier on a lamppost,” Vivek says matter-of-factly, “My story with involvement with the library, kind of, is just a little bit right place, right time, right skills, and a willingness to do anything.” One walk down the street brought him to new places with new people and experiences, effectively changing his life and sending him down a path he never knew existed. This seemingly fated run-in with the lamppost has led Vivek to a life that’s deeply intertwined with the Chicago Tool Library. Over the past few years, his roles have developed and changed, as have his relationship with the library and the many people who use and operate the space. As his network continues to evolve, he will continue to build a place for himself within the world of Libraries of Things.
Vivek began his career at the Chicago Tool Library as a volunteer, somewhat sporadically at first, but eventually on a weekly basis. At the time, 2019, the Chicago Tool Library was in its infancy, trying to get its feet off the ground, and Vivek would do what he could to help out. “There was a lot of flexibility to be able to make an impact, which is very important to me,” he says, remembering his early days at the library. “I like doing a really broad variety of different work,” he recalls. “At one minute I could be building a custom shelving solution and the other minute, helping a volunteer, helping a borrower.” Volunteering at the library became a “weekly tradition,” where he would work with borrowers and other volunteers, while simultaneously getting more heavily involved through background work.
His voice becomes brighter as he begins to talk about the public facing aspect of volunteering and working at the tool library. “There was a period where I knew, like, four or five hundred borrowers by name,” he says, an almost unfathomable number to me. The sheer number of somewhat surface-level connections is not what stands out most, though. Vivek explains that “sometimes you make really genuine connections, as well.” He tells me about an interaction that he had with a borrower, during which deep emotions were exposed and tears were shed. “That is not a thing that happens at Home Depot, right?” Right. The concept of revealing complex emotions and embracing others amid clamps and screwdrivers and power tools seems almost unthinkable, especially in a public space like the Home Depot. He reflects on this interaction, and states that “you know that’s a person who feels comfortable in this space and comfortable with the people around them.” For Vivek, the Chicago Tool Library is a place where cold concrete floors transform into warm, vulnerable spaces. “I work really hard to make sure that people have a good experience,” he says, “because it’s important to me beyond just how it reflects on the tool library.”
Over time, his involvement became a daily task, developing manuals and software to increase the capabilities and capacity of the library. He later joined the board and, eventually, Vivek became board president, which gave him a broad governance role. “None of us knew what the hell we were doing, but you know, we were figuring it out as we went,” he says in hindsight. “The nonprofit world needs a lot of reimagining, so we were figuring out what things we wanted to keep and what things we wanted to let go of.”
While he and his coworkers jumped through every hoop to build what they hope to be a sustainable library, it is not something that he believes everyone can or should go through. “It’s a shitload of work,” he tells me. He believes that “not everyone is in a good position to start a tool library.” He does not, however, place himself on a pedestal for the work he’s done to sustain a tool library. He is a self-proclaimed perfectionist, a trait that is useful, but ultimately limiting if he were to be the only decision-maker in an organization like this. “I wish that people also knew that despite the services we provide, that it’s not necessarily sustainable yet, financially.” The Chicago Tool Library is a complex institution that’s still young and highly reliant on donations of time and money. “We have had hundreds of thousands of dollars of donated labor over the years,” he says.
Currently, a number of tool libraries are working to make libraries of things more accessible to more people. Vivek is working alongside members of SNTL and other tool libraries to form a Tool Library Alliance to share knowledge and resources. “People are kind of amazingly giving,” Vivek says, “I think you get that from a lot of tool library folks.” He has personally formed relationships with other tool libraries throughout the country, connecting via email or video call (when we spoke, it was over Zoom) in order to grow relationships between like minded people at a variety of Libraries of Things. “There’s so many things that are unique to tool libraries,” Vivek says, “especially ones that are trying to do it in a way that prioritizes equity.” He explains that in a for-profit business, the goal is clear: to make money. Tool libraries, on the other hand, do not follow this model and many have to start from scratch with little guidance and even less funding. Now, as Vivek puts it, tool libraries around the country want to “really support each other” through collaboration and information-sharing.
Vivek makes it clear that while there is still work to be done in the realm of equity at the Chicago Tool Library, it is a goal that they are working toward through greater collaboration with others, focused events, and changes in how the library markets itself. Most of their members come from outside of the neighborhood in which the Chicago Tool Library is situated, but Vivek says that they are “going to work pretty hard to get more integrated into the surrounding neighborhood and be a more integral part of the fabric of the community.” As Vivek tells me, the Chicago Tool Library doesn’t want to be an “other” in the neighborhood. Instead, Vivek wants to “figure out how to make sure it’s valuable” by gathering input and collaborating with members of a community advisory council, something they plan to create using a grant that they recently received. They don’t want to assume that what they currently offer is of value to everyone. Instead, Vivek hopes to tailor their resources to anyone who might need them.
According to Vivek, one of the Chicago Tool Library’s most important current goals is to reach underrepresented groups within the tool and building space, and to demonstrate that their space is not only for hobbyists. Vivek’s desire to make people feel comfortable and welcome is intentionally reflected in the materials that the Chicago Tool Library presents to the public, and in the hearts of those who work there. “It’s not just a cis white dude space,” Vivek declares.
When detailing the initial decisions made about how the Chicago Tool Library is marketed to the public, Vivek explains that they had a few clear goals: that they “didn’t want to overly define what it is” and they “didn’t want anyone to feel intimidated.” This means that their tool library does not have any actual “tools,” (that is, hammers or saws) in their logo or the front page of their website. He wants others to know that “tool libraries are meant, like all libraries, for all people,” and that their variety of equipment is a reflection of that. Much like a book library, meant for sharing knowledge and increasing accessibility for professional and personal growth (as well as entertainment), Vivek says that at its core, the Chicago Tool Library is about “supplying people with the tools, not only physically, but socially and emotionally.” This focus on social-emotional space and inclusivity for all is not something that I expected to dominate the conversation when our interview began. It is something that could not be said about tool libraries without the direct involvement of Vivek and others like him. “For better or for worse, the tool library is kind of fused with my identity,” he says. He has since stepped out of his governance role in favor of more direct involvement with volunteers and part-time librarians, by training and supporting them in their roles. He finds this to be gratifying, as he can have an impact through direct execution of strategy rather than creating strategies from afar. As the Chicago Tool Library has grown, Vivek has grown alongside it, and he supposes and hopes that he’ll continue to do so. His dedication to the organization and the people who call it home is remarkable, especially considering where it began: a flier taped to a lamppost. For better or for worse, as he says, a fusion has occurred, and it’s not stopping any time soon.