If you were to ask if I supported public libraries, I’d reflexively say, “yeah, of course.” What book nerd doesn’t? I reflexively vote yes on various bonds for them when they come up*, I use them all the time—and don’t remember a time when I didn’t (Literally. I’m pretty sure Carter was in office and I would have struggled with a Dick and Jane tome), when I have the opportunity, I can spend an hour or so just wandering around one soaking in the atmosphere. But it’s not something I really thought about—and I didn’t realize how deep my attachment to “my” library was until a couple of weeks ago.
* well, I reflexively support them and then research a bit before I vote, if you want to get technical.
After COVID restrictions lightened up around here (and they were in place far longer than I expected), local libraries started doing nutty things like looking at expiration dates and residency qualifications again. This meant my card, which should have been renewed last year, was set to expire.
And I really wish it hadn’t.
See, last year when we were forced to move, we had choices of what city to move to—there were three that really wouldn’t have affected our commute to work and left us near enough to our church so we could still be a part of it. I jokingly (mostly) told my wife I liked the house we bought better than another one we looked at the same night because it was in the same city as our last home and I wouldn’t have to change libraries (there were other reasons, I should add, and we picked the right house).
As we were preparing to move in, I made the necessary calls to get the utilities switched over and learned something—while our address is in the same city, our public utilities are paid to another city. We’re closer to its water lines, and so on. And therefore…not in my library’s district. So, despite my careful planning, I had to switch libraries.
So what? Well, for starters—other than a couple of additional computers, the decor in the kid’s section, and the shuffling of a couple of categories (note: shuffling, not expanding—possibly it’s contracting), the library I had to switch to looks just like it did when I worked there in High School. I’m pretty sure the tables and chairs are the same ones I cleared a few times a week. When I mentioned that to a friend she told me, “that’s almost impressive,” and she’s not wrong. But that was so long ago George W. Bush was primarily known as one of the owners of the Texas Rangers or as “The President’s son” (if he was known at all). Yeah, it was that long ago. But the lack of change, the lack of—at the very least—expansion of any kind, says something about the state of that particular library (and of the kind of support it receives from the city). More importantly, the collection of books wasn’t that impressive in range or size back then and sure isn’t now.
I should note, the area libraries have this great collaborative agreement and it’s really not going to affect much about what books I can check out physically or electronically, so that’s good. Still, when I got the news that it was time to change, I was surprised at how disgruntled it made me.
I reflexively ascribed it to a silly sentimentality (what kind of sentimentality isn’t silly?) So I thought about the grounds for that sentimentality. My (former) library is where I’d been going for a couple of decades, and like any good Hobbit, I’m not big on change. Also, it was where I took my kids on a near-weekly basis for most of their lives—where I’d exposed them to more books than I could purchase for them (which is saying something), where I’d tried to show them just how wide and varied interests and knowledge could be. We’d taken part in the summer activities—my daughter even volunteered for a summer there. I’d even won my first Kindle Fire from them—which revolutionized my reading (and content for this blog). From comics to non-fiction, DVDs to hard-to-find classic novels, audiobooks to educational programs—it was a major source of all of those things for our family. We’d all been excited a few years back when it moved into a nicer, larger, more modern home and quickly made it a place we enjoyed being in, too.
Basically, all the things I frequently link to in Saturday Miscellanies about why public libraries matter and are important to contemporary society? That’s what I found in my former library—and really don’t see a lot of signs of in the “new” one.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I made the switch—and it’s impacted my life minimally. Sure, I had to type in my new card number into Overdrive, and it messed with the holds I had. But…that’s about it. Although, when I’ve gone to the “old” library to pick up things, it feels a little strange, like I’m just visiting, it’s no longer “my” library. I’m sure this will pass, and I’ll only remember that it’s not actually “my” library when I have to renew my card every couple of years.
More than anything else, my reaction showed me how deep my attachment to the library was, and re-invigorated it a bit. I should really be more self-aware. I also think I should be a bit more active in that support, somehow. More on that later, I hope…
Header image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay
You haven’t read the first fourteen Toby Daye novels—or you didn’t like them. The former I completely understand, the number of supposedly great series that I don’t have time for is large enough that I can sympathize. The latter? I can accept that people like you exist, but I don’t know if I can ever understand it
that caught my eye this week. You’ve probably seen some/most/all of them, but just in case:
That I’m Excited About and/or You’ll Probably See Here Soon:
I’d like to say hi and extend a warm welcome to 
Grab a book, any book.