Scarred for Life

I have moments in my job of children's librarian of genuine and furious anger. The parent who insists their child not read graphic novels, because they're not "real books", the teen who seem to think that telling me to f**k myself is somehow ok and warranted, the people who say they don't see the point of the library as an institution, because you "can find everything with Google". And I will say, that in the public sphere I am PHE-NO-ME-NAL at hiding this; remaining calm and professional when I really want to stare in disbelief and just say "No". What truly makes me mad though, is when I realize how the librarians in my own childhood failed me.  

Unsurprisingly, I read a lot as a kid. I haunted my local library on weekends. Spent at least one night a week there, from after school until my parents came to get me when they got home around 7, participating in summer reading yearly, and generally being a face the librarians and staff knew. In the 1990s and early 2000s when I was a tween and teen, I will admit there wasn't much in the way of Tween or Teen Literature. Beyond Goosebumps, Babysitters Club, and  "issues" books, there weren't many standout
 books that were appropriate for my age and reading level. Meaning that once I raced through Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine and Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman, there wasn't much else for me to fall in love with. So I moved onto adult books, with sometimes very little understanding of what I was actually reading and without the deep enjoyment that can come from reading about characters that you can relate to. Or so I thought.

Now that I'm a children's librarian I of course know about the amazing series and books that were available at that time, including the Alice books by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor, the Song of the Lioness series by Tamora Pierce, The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright, anything by E. Nesbit, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith, or any other of a multitude of books that I found on my own or though friends and colleagues as an adult or older teen. And I ask myself why weren't any of these books put into my hands? I can honestly say that I can only recall one time that one of my school librarians put a book into my hands (The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley, which I love to this day) and can never remember one of my public librarians suggesting anything to me.

And I'm sure I didn't ask, and that's ok. I was a shy kid, who was often teased and who was such a voracious reader, in part, because I didn't feel comfortable in my own world.  I've thankfully out grown that and see kids everyday who fit the same description. Which is why I approach those kids when I see them wandering in the stacks and ask if they've read this, that, or the other.  I take a note of who checks out a stack of books every week, and grab something and say that I thought they might want to give this a shot. I do this, because I recognize that such an important part of my job is to reach the reader. Especially the reader who wants desperately to be reached, but is too scared to ask.