Citali's Library

Have I mentioned I love libraries?

(a joke. That's a joke. I love libraries. I say this all the time.)

Like, a lot. Unironically. Unconditionally.

SO last summer I volunteered at my city library, and to be not cliché, it wasn't exactly life-changing. But it made me think things.

I worked in the children's section, as opposed to adult or circulation. However, they don't let volunteers sit behind the reference desk and answer questions and sign kids up for summer reading. Whether or not it seems logical, you need a master's in library science for that. I also wasn't shelving books, though I feel like I'd be good at that, being a longtime patron of the children's section (the wisdom of years: that the L-M and M-R shelves are where everything that's worth anything is. Pretty much). What I did was everything else. My fellow four volunteers were almost-not-quite found family; I figure that once you pick up speech patterns from someone, you've become at least a level 2 friend (a joke. That's a joke). There was a performance series where we volunteers would help set up stages for puppet shows and jugglers and science shows, then count the attendees—adults and kids—with little clickers. Memorably, we performed in one of them, as part of an opera, albeit a 30-minute one. We stamped summer reading achievement certificates with the librarians' seal of approval. We lugged boxes of the free books given out for summer reading. Memorably, we spent one afternoon session sanitizing laundry baskets full of baby toys (yes, the ones that little kids put in their mouths. It was fantabulous //s).

But what I spent the most time doing, well... it didn't seem like a very library thing to do. For hours of those afternoons, we voided books, removing them from circulation. Some of them were ripped, drooled on, oil-stained. Some were wholesale ripped from their bindings. But others? They looked like they've been gently used, still usable. Nevertheless, they were treated all the same: their barcodes blacked out, their library labels removed. They were Tetris-ed into circulation carts. And thrown (tossed. Stacked. Fine, placed). Into. Dumpsters (garbage! Trash cans! Or at least, bins).

To be fair: 1) Since they were library property, they were government property. And that means that when they're declared void (and when the library/government has to buy new books) they have to go. Otherwise librarians could void books randomly so that they could keep them. Or sell them. 2) I guess libraries have to toss out things sometime. Some of those voided books were pretty nasty. 3) And some of the books in better (read: spotless, imho) condition were Tetris-ed into boxes, not carts, and taped up and shipped off to libraries elsewhere.

However, those didn't really change the fact that, when I came out of my summer of volunteering, I thought ever-so-slightly less of my library.

But after the summer, I spent an unusual amount of time in other people's libraries: schools, other muni libraries. Whether it was spending time in the school library studying and not touching a page of fiction, or meeting up with classmates in the teen section of their municipal library to work on group projects, or even visiting a library comic-con, it made me think things.

In the world we live in, every bit of government spending is being thrown into question. But libraries, public ones, seem like one of the best and at the same time craziest things you can do. My library isn't huge and urban, and yet I have to stop myself and appreciate what my citizenship gets me. A building with books and computers that you can use for massive blocks of time. Museum passes. Books that have come out mere weeks or even days ago. Wi-fi. Readings. Art. Summer reading. The Oxford English dictionary. An online catalog. A juggler. A Triwizard Tournament.

And that's not even counting what other libraries can do. There are libraries that lend out cake pans and shared seeds and sewing machines. 3D printers and virtual reality headsets. Hosting comic-cons.

My library is limited by the rules of a county system—it can never shut down an entire branch and host a comic-con, for example. But it's also empowered by the thousands of books it can hold in collection and retrieve from different libraries around the area. The catalogue might have been a little clunky. But the fact remains that there are so, so many books I can access with my keystrokes, even months before they're published, without the interlibrary loan. And I might have to disinfect a few baby toys. But for all those two- and three-year-olds who get to have those toys for that time while they're getting read to, sure.

I might have huge, grandiose thoughts-with-a-capital-T about libraries and sharing and whether that playtime and storytime with those disinfected toys will change a life or make a future author want to write. But honestly, even with all the slightly problematic destruction of books or the large quantities of baby saliva, libraries are so, so worth it. And I will be supporting them all the way.

Happy reading,
~Citali