Some thoughts on libraries

This is National Library Week, so I've been thinking about my own experiences in libraries. When I was a child, our school library had age restrictions for what books we could check out. I wanted to read books that were designated for older children, so a sixth grade boy named Phil, who rode my school bus, would check the books out for me. His bus stop was right near mine, so he would get off at my house, walk me to the front porch, then hand me the books. 

Phil was an "older" boy, and he was nice, and I loved this arrangement! My mother, however, upon seeing Phil hand me the books several times, asked me, "Why does Phil carry your books all the way to the house?" I explained to her that he had to check the books out for me, and that he carried them for me just because he was nice.

The next day, my mother was at the school, demanding that I be able to check out any books I wanted. The age restriction rule was dropped that day. (I probably had mixed feelings about my mother's advocacy, given how pleased I was to have Phil carry my books.)

We lived in a more rural area, and my mother didn't drive when I was in elementary school, so sometimes, on Saturday, we would take the long bus ride into town. My mother would go shopping, but first, she would drop me off at the city's main library--a large, old, and imposing building. She knew that the librarians would keep an eye on me. 

I would read for a few hours, then--when my mother arrived to pick me up--I would check out my books. Eventually, though, I checked out spoken word albums, and that is how I learned Shakespeare. I listened to MacBeth, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and several other plays. I also listened to Chaucer spoken in middle English, and to some of the silly Victorian music hall songs that my mother used to sing around the house. I was a very nerdy child.

We also had a bookmobile, which would come to our rural street during the summer, and bookmobile day was the highlight of my week. All the other kids' dogs would wait outside for them, while my cat sat patiently among them.

In junior high school, I hit the jackpot. The librarian was a lovely red-haired woman named Mrs. Turner, and she looked after all of us with such warmth and wisdom. I read so many classics while sitting in that library, and of course, I checked many of them out and read them at home.

I don't remember my high school library very well (probably because there was no one there to dispense Mrs. Turner's magic), though I do remember my high school English teachers guiding me on which books I should check out. I would go on to spend a lot of time in various university libraries, and those experiences were, of course, more stressful. And when I moved to my current city a few decades ago, the first house I lived in was a block or two from the library, which I sometimes visited, just to experience being inside a library.

For years, I had a fairly significant home library, but eventually, space became more important to me than storing books that I would probably never read again, so--for the most part--I made the switch to electronic books. I gave away a few books a year, then--one year--I gave away a great number of books to help found the library of the local women's center. I still have physical books, but not that many. I kept my poetry books, my tennis books, my art/photography books, and some books that--for various reasons--I wanted to possess in physical form. 

I can't imagine what my childhood and adolescence would have been like without libraries. And while I don't remember the content of many of the books that I read, I remember their themes, and the effect that they had on me. Once, when I was still a practicing psychotherapist, I attended a Jungian workshop, and the facilitator asked each of us to tell her who our favorite super-hero was. Attendees replied, "Superman," "Wonder Woman," "Spider-Man"--but when it was my turn, I said--"Mary Poppins." The facilitator went on to work with me (as Jungian psychotherapists do) regarding my identification with Mary Poppins, and I realized how important those books had been to me so very long ago.

Attention spans have changed, and reading books is apparently now considered something that students no longer consider necessary (or even something of which they are capable--university professors can no longer assign many books for students to read). I can't wrap my head around this phenomenon, and I don't want to. And then there's the matter of book-banning. In my small community, there was a big attempt to ban some library books, and--while the controversy continues and has become a bit complicated--the community backed the libraries, even putting Trust Librarians signs in their yards. 

Libraries--large libraries, branch libraries, private libraries, tiny roadside libraries--are important. Libraries not only provide books, they also conduct classes and workshops, and provide storytimes for children. Libraries form an institution that represents knowledge, and knowledge--combined with the ability to think rationally (remember that?) is what saves a civilization from ignorance.