Sentimentality as a danger to libraries

 

A good friend, knowing my love of both reading and libraries, sent me the following quote:

On the power of books:

"Books hold most of the secrets of the world, most of the thoughts that men and women have had. And when you are reading a book, you and the author are alone together—just the two of you. A library is a good place to go when you feel unhappy, for there, in a book, you may find encouragement and comfort. A library is a good place to go when you feel bewildered or undecided, for there, in a book, you may have your question answered. Books are good company, in sad times and happy times, for books are people—people who have managed to stay alive by hiding between the covers of a book." from Letters to the Children of Troy by EB White

I recognize and share the sentiments expressed by Mr. White. I’ve often felt comforted by reading a book and spending time in a physical library - especially as a child and young adult. 

But I worry that White’s feelings are those of a time and generation now past. And that if we assume libraries exist primarily to provide psychological comfort to people through access to physical books, we are doing modern libraries a disservice.

Yes, for some people, all types of libraries provide a “third place” environment. But for many, it is the socialization, not isolation that White describes, as the library's primary value. A passive rather than active place seems to me to be a tougher sell to those who may not have a sentimental attachment to quiet, old-fashioned libraries.

As for being buried in a book, White’s letter was written in the early 1970s to the children of Troy, Michigan (not Homer’s Troy) and so predates the ebook as well as most electronic forms of both personal entertainment and information. It wasn’t until 1989 or so that I installed an early digital encyclopedia in my library media center. Yes, print books are still widely used and loved, especially by young children and older adults. But for many of us, being engaged in a book means making sure your Kindle or iPad or smartphone is fully charged.

I get as much or more value from my public library today as I ever have. But I very rarely darken its door. I check out all my materials electronically from home. I read more in retirement than I have ever had time to when working. But I almost never read a print book. I do keep a few well-loved print tomes in my home bookshelves, but the mass of my purchased materials sit in some Amazon cloud. Times they are a changin’. Or for younger generations, already changed.

The fellow who sent me this quote is one of the most intelligent people I know. He keeps informed, especially on education and technology, and is in fact a highly regarded expert in the field. But it bothers me a little that a person so well informed about so many things might see the value of libraries still accurately reflected in this quote rather than the diverse, multi-platform, multi-function institution professional librarians have been struggling to make them over the past few decade.

Fellow librarians, our work is not yet done!

The chuck-it list for stubborn people

Not playing with my own age group hiking Ciudad Perdida in 2015

…your chuck-it list is just as important as your bucket list. As you age, you grow into a different person with new priorities; your goals should evolve, too. Give yourself permission to remove those items you’ll probably never get to. And most important: Don’t feel so bad about it. “Why you should swap your bucket list with a chuck-it list.” Valerie Tiberius, Washington Post, 8/28/23

I’d never given much thought to growing old. Until I actually became old. It is only now after I’ve been retired for a few years that I actually read articles about planning for retirement. Too late. I rather stubbornly have refused to acknowledge that my physical strength may be waning. I can, after all, still put the same amount of weight on the exercise machines at the Y that I could 20 years ago. I can still hike 4-5 miles without much trouble. I can still drive without needing glasses. So do I really need to create a chuck-it list to accommodate my impending decrepitude?

One of my bucket-list goals has been to hike to the Mayan Ruins of El Mirador in Guatemala. I did survive Ciudad Perdida in Columbia just a few years ago, after all. But I am considering moving El Mirador from my bucket list to my chuck-it list. From the description:

OK, for those with poor math skills, 23.5 kilometers equals 14.6 miles. Through a jungle. Where it is hot. Where one spends four nights camping. With rain and lots of bugs. Hmmmmmm. 

When I originally heard the term chuck-it list, I found it deeply depressing. Admitting that there are some things that I will never be able to do in this life. While I have long ago come to terms with never becoming a Chippendale dancer or a billionaire, I thought hiking, biking, and such would be life-long recreational activities.  

But perhaps tossing bucket list items in the trash is not the right approach - modifying them to accommodate reality may be… 

• Instead of hiking El Mirador, I choose a more realistic tour
• On my biking trips, I rent an ebike instead of a regular bike
• When I do multi-day hikes, I do them inn-to-inn instead of backpacking 

While I may never become a billionaire, I can choose to live quite nicely on my pension, SS, and savings. While becoming a Chippendate dancer is not in my future (like it ever really was), I can choose not to become grossly overweight. I may not solve all the world’s problems, but I can make sure I solve somebody’s problem nearly everyday through volunteering and kindness. 

Anything you are moving from bucket to chuck-it in your future?

Why Labor Day is my favorite holiday

 

Labor Day 2023, Ha Ha Tonka State Park

When asked their favorite holiday, most folks will probably tell you Thanksgiving or Christmas. And indeed these are wonderful times for many of us - good food, gifts, family, and old friends. A little harried, perhaps, but days to be enjoyed and remembered.

Not that anyone has asked, but my favorite holiday for years has been Labor Day. Labor Day weekend to be more accurate. To me it is the holiday that celebrates transition. Summer ending; fall starting. Long days of play ending; a new school year beginning. Summer shorts put away; jackets drug out. Soups instead of barbeque. Fewer swims, more hikes. Green turning to gold.

For over 30 years my family and friends have come together for Labor Day weekend to relax, play, and just be together. We’ve always gathered at small resorts. In the 1990s, Cry of the Loon (now defunct) near Walker, Minnesota, was our go-to spot. Discovered by my friend Cary as a writing retreat, for many years we enjoyed its small cabins, TV room, rental boats, and proximity to Itasca State Park where we would ceremoniously cross the headwaters of the Mississippi, climb the fire tower, drink Douglas Lodge malts, cruise on the Chester Charles, and take long bike rides. 

Over the years, as families moved about, so did the location of our retreat. We’ve rented places in the Wisconsin Dells, Lake Okoboji, Acorn Resort in Kansas, and Honey Creek in Iowa. This past weekend we spent in the Lake of the Ozarks area. Regardless of the location, hikes, swims, dinners out and dinners in, and watching old movies have all been tradition. And most importantly, reconnecting with our families. I am blessed that my children and their spouses are people I actually like as well as love and enjoy talking with.

Like the seasons, families are continually in a state of transition. Children and grandchildren grow; careers change; births, deaths, marriages, and separations make group photos all a bit different. Labor Day helps remind me that change does not have to be mourned, but can and should be a source of celebration.  

As my grandsons become ever more independent adults, I wonder if the next change might be that my daughter’s family creates its own traditional get-to-gethers. I become obsolete. In all sincerity I want my children to experience the same joys that family traditions have given me when they are the tradition creators, not just participants.

I believe that my generation was the first to move permanently from one’s place of birth. As a child, both my grandparents and great-grandparents lived within a fairly short driving distance. Sunday dinners and weekend stays were simply a given. When there were family gatherings, it was with an extended family of second cousins, great-aunts and uncles, and other relatives living perhaps a couple hours drive away. But when I graduated from high school, I left for college across the state, and then to a college in another state. And I never returned for any extended period of time. Seeing family became a special event, not a regular event. 

Here’s wishing for many more Labor Day weekends.