At five years old, with my mother beside me, I became a loyal member of the Fort Worth Public Library. Head held high, I beamed as the librarian placed the special laminated card, stamped with my name, into my hands. When I learned I could check out as many books as I liked (within reason, my mother stressed), I nearly trotted to the children’s section and bounced between beautifully illustrated stories and anthologies. Although my family moved frequently—from Southern California to Fort Worth to Denver to Houston—the local library remained a comforting constant in our lives. In Denver, my two younger sisters and I entered our library’s art and essay contests and won small prizes. In Houston, we attended author talks and creative workshops.
Decades later, my passion for libraries hasn’t dimmed. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy exploring quirky bookstores. But because I read around eighty books a year, I typically check out several books per week from my local library in Raleigh, partly to avoid breaking my budget. And now that I’m a full-time writer, the library has become an even more critical resource in my life. I leverage my branch library and the inter-loan library system to research topics for my works-in-process, from Great Depression farms to financial fraud to national parks to Gilded Age tycoons.
My county library offers extensive services. Via an online form, a reader can specify his or her reading preferences and favorite books, and a librarian will respond with up to ten customized recommendations. The dozen or so regional libraries routinely hold story hour and rhyme time for toddlers, as well as writing workshops and art programming for adults.
Like public schools, libraries are one of our democracy’s great equalizers; they grant all citizens access to a wealth of knowledge, regardless of creed, faith, gender, race, orientation or income. A person who can’t afford to buy books can still read Proust and Camus and Plato and gain an education. Many educators, including Professor Maria Nikolajeva of Cambridge University, believe that “reading provides excellent training for young people in developing and practicing empathy and theory of mind, that is, understanding how other people feel and think.” And it’s not just youth. When adults read novels, they tend to put themselves in other people’s shoes from different cultures, countries, races, and religions. Literature builds bridges.
That said, we can’t take libraries for granted. Across the country, state legislatures from Florida to Texas to Wisconsin are banning books they deem “inappropriate.” In some cases, they’re even threatening or withholding funding if libraries don’t comply with arbitrary rules.
Censorship hurts everyone. Banning books weakens our collective understanding by limiting different viewpoints and restricting information about important issues. Ultimately, book banning harms democracy. And frankly, now that the Trump administration has begun its egregious attack on venerable institutions that protect the rights of ALL citizens (not just white males), we need to be more vigilant than ever in defending our beloved libraries and schools.
So show your local library some love and support! Apply for a library card if you don’t already have one; utilize your library’s rich resources; ask the staff for recommendations; borrow and read books! What do you love about your library?