Growing up, we went to the public library on Saturdays. We'd go downtown to the only branch I ever knew about and browse for the morning. The building was old but well-kept. There was beautiful woodwork and I later learned a lot of the buildings in town, including my elementary school and the library, had been built by skilled craftsmen hired through public works programs. Woodworkers, masons and other highly skills craftsmen (back in the day, they were mostly male) built beautiful, functional, timelessly beautiful buildings. But back to the library part of this story. I can still see some of the tables and book shelves in my mind's eye. The regular visits to the library were a treat. No, I didn't grow up in Podunk - just outside of Manhattan, in fact.
I remember walking through the children's department almost like walking through a candy store - delighted by the possibilities on each shelf. There weren't many places my parents said "get whatever you like" but the library was one of them and it always felt like a treat to get whatever armful of books I wanted.
Fast forward to now. Over the last couple of years, I've cleaned out my bookcases at home a few times and marvelled at some of the books I had in my possession - books I was never going to read, books I couldn't imagine having purchased, books that once seemed compelling and now seemed boring, books on topics obscure and mundane that no longer held my interest and on and on. I'd sort them out, put them in boxes and bring them to the used book store or the donation drop off. I'd clear out space only to find myself doing the same ritual again a year later.
Then, I got an email from a friend in Ohio. She said she'd just come back from the library with her kids - and I remembered that I'd forgotten all about the public library. How it slipped from my everyday consciousness, I don't know, but slip it did.
I headed over to my local branch of the Pima County Public Library on Saturday. The choice of the day of week is apparently imprinted from childhood, but the library world has changed. I was happy to see computers in every nook and cranny (yes, I'm an admitted geek). There were books of every kind, of course, but now after getting my new bar coded library card, I could pull some books, zap them under a scanner and head out the door. Very cool.
Perhaps the best part of the library was realizing that I could go shopping for books anytime I wanted and best of all, when I was done with them, I could simply drop them off. Now, this might sound like a duh! moment, but it dawned on me that I didn't have to go buy a book, change my mind, lose interest in it and have it sit on MY shelf (after spending money on that brand new book), that's what the library is for. It's really the best of both worlds. I can check out any book (for free) and if I lose interest or decide I hate the book three pages in, off it goes back to the library.
This is not a new concept, I know. But in this economic environment when we're all re-thinking our spending habits, libraries become a new found green resource. Granted, there are still books I'll want to purchase and own, but most of the books I own are not 'keepers' and I suspect the same is true for many of us.
Libraries are green by design - reduce, reuse, reuse, reuse. The books purchased by the library are read by hundreds (or thousands) of people. When they reach the end of their useful life, the library sells them at a nominal cost to people who want to own them, then they buy more books and the cycle continues. That's the essence of reduce and reuse, isn't it?
So, you may want to go re-discover your local public library (while funds still exist to keep them open), show your support by joining and using your local branch. Funding is typically predicated upon usage, so be sure to support your local library whenever you can. Yes, I'm a renewed fan, but better late than never.
Any other local library fans out there? Let us know your thoughts!
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