Better than Christmas

We could hardly sleep last night. This morning we all jumped out of bed and hurried through breakfast. The kids looked like they had ants in their pants as we walked to the bus stop. We giggled and grinned and couldn't wait for the doors to open. We waited six very long months and it finally happened: Our town's library re-opened today.

Some of you may have read my post a few months ago about the controversy surrounding the closure. After ballot measures, failed levies, passed levies, community meetings, and letters to the editor, we have our libraries once again. They're just not public anymore. Our county decided to out source our library system to a company in Maryland to keep costs down. We've apparently got 3 years before we have to figure something else out. This is not good news. I can no longer refer to our library as public. We now visit the private library. It just doesn't feel right.

As we waited excitedly on the front steps of the building this morning, newspaper and radio reporters swirled around interviewing us. The kids were too excited to sit still, but I agreed to answer a few questions. I did say that it felt a lot like Christmas morning. The anticipation of waiting for months to have access to all those books, magazines, tapes, CDs, movies, and newspapers once again was amazing. I can't even count the number of times over the past six months that I had to stop myself mid-sentence as I suggested to the kids that we head to the library to find out more about something cool we were curious about. It was heartbreaking.

I explained to the reporters that it was bizarre to think that this is time in our lives our kids would remember as The time we had no libraries. What does that say about our priorities? What does that say about our culture? Our government? I was asked if we found ourselves using the internet more often over the past 6 months to fill our library needs. This question really irked me. The argument that our society no longer needs libraries because of the internet will never, ever fly with me. A warm, dry, safe gathering place, that does not charge admission for use, full of public information could never be replaced by the internet. Sure, we can Google milkweed pods when we want to know more, but we can actually go to the library and get so much more.

At 10 o'clock sharp, the doors were unlocked. As the kids walked through the doors my eyes filled up with tears. It was like coming home again. They walked right past the juice and cookies as they made a bee line for the children's section. Within 10 minutes, our towering stack of books was teetering on the edge of the table, while magazines and books on tape were spilling out of my bag and onto the floor. The shelves were overflowing. I hadn't really considered the fact that this would be the one time that all library materials would be on the shelves and not in circulation. The movie section looked like a video store! It was hard to not grab everything in sight. As the kids settled in, I headed upstairs with my wish list. All of my choices were there! It really was like Christmas! When we finally checked out later, a reporter asked us how many items we'd checked out. We counted over 60 items!!!

As we made our way home and interacted with neighbors and friends, there were knowing smiles and a buzz in the air. The library? Have you been? Did you go? Were you there? Is it true? By late afternoon, we just had to go back. I reminded the kids that the library would indeed be open tomorrow, and many days after that. But we had to go back. So we did. Just a few more books, okay Mom? You bet. Living life without school means we have loads of time to hang out at the library. It's been a long six months. I'm not happy about the solution our County Commissioners came up with, but I am very grateful to have our libraries open once again.

Another Casualty of War

The library in our town has been closed for 5 months. Actually, all 13 libraries in our county closed their doors on April 7th due to lack of funding. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about. And I think about it a lot. Talking to my friend Trace tonight, I was reminded that some folks like to say that they are closed because there are no more big trees around here to cut down. Large federal timber sales are what funded the libraries in our small, rural county for years. But it's hard not to notice that lots of public services are paying the price nationwide because our country is at war. War is expensive. It's just that most towns still have a free public space where people and kids and families can hang out and borrow books. In Ashland, Oregon, we don't.

I read to my kids most nights before bed. We snuggle up on the couch or one of our beds and transport ourselves to distant lands for 45 minutes or an hour. It is sacred time. We all look forward to it. My middle daughter Macy is 9. At the HSC homeschooling conference last month, she was thrilled to buy a set of American Girl chapter books at the Recycled Resource Room. She happens to have the doll named Molly and this set is all about Molly. One of the books we're reading aloud is Molly Learns a Lesson. The American Girl series takes a period in American history and creates a storyline starring the doll of that era. Molly is an 8 year old during World War 2. Her mother works long hours at the factory to support the "war effort". Her father is a military doctor treating soldiers overseas. We just got to the part in the book where Molly is bummed out because her rubber boots no longer fit. It's raining out and God forbid you would go out of doors in regular shoes! She is forced to wear her older brother's ugly black rubber boots because the stores are no longer selling boots. All the rubber in America is being used to make things like life rafts and life preservers needed by soldiers fighting in the war.

I stopped reading and put the book down. "What Mom?" asked Macy. "Why did you stop?" I explained that it was really hard for me to read a story about people who were not outraged at the realities of war. It made me uncomfortable to think about a world (even a fictional one) where families non-chalantly discuss the sacrifices that folks at home must make in order to support the war effort. I explained for the millionth time that I don't support any efforts of any war and that it's just one of those things I will never, ever get. As I finished reading the chapter I realized that 40 years later, not a whole lot has changed. Our soldiers are still fighting battles overseas. We're still making sacrifices here at home for the war effort. Molly will always remember the year 1944 as the year she had to go without new red rubber boots. Macy will forever remember the year 2007 as the year she had to go without a public library.