As a lifelong library lover and voracious reader, the idea that access to reading material has become controversial boggles my brain.
Yet in Idaho, libraries are relocating material the state defines as harmful to minors to adult-only areas.
I remember when parents were the ones who defined which books might be harmful to their children.
My mom sure did.
Even when I could drive myself to the library, she always perused my selections, shaking her head at choices she disapproved of.
I read them anyway. (I did have nightmares after reading “Helter Skelter,” so Mom was probably on to something there.)
Dad’s jobs, first in the Air Force and then with the state of Washington, meant frequent moves. The first thing we did in a new town was to look for a church. The second was to find the library and get our cards. Weekly library visits were almost as sacred as church attendance on Sundays.
Library cards were a rite of passage for my four children. As soon as they could print their names, they received their own cards.
Much to my sons’ chagrin, just like my mom, I was the arbiter of literature in our home. I sorted through the books they wanted to check out and weeded out “junk” like “Goosebumps.”
In retrospect, I wish I’d let them indulge in a little R.L. Stine, instead of shuttling them to the inanity of the “Bailey School Kids” series. I’m positive I killed a few brain cells reading “Vampires Don’t Wear Polka Dots” or “Ghosts Don’t Eat Potato Chips” with them.
When some Christian groups deemed the “Harry Potter” books evil and my firstborn wanted to read them, I stayed up late into the night engrossed in “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.” My 10-year-old loved the series, and so did I.
He’s also the kid who introduced me to the works of Stephen King.
King was on my mom’s banned author list, so I was in my mid-30s before I got the liver scared out of me by “Carrie,” “Misery,” “Pet Sematary” and “IT.”
By the time our fourth son arrived, I’d relaxed my literary gatekeeping. Sam’s appetite for books rivaled my own. He devoured comics, novels and nonfiction, and he probably read “harmful” books, too. I haven’t ascertained any lasting damage to his psyche. He’s now a college English instructor introducing a new generation to the delights of the printed word.
The term “safe space” has become much derided, but that’s exactly what public libraries were for me.
As a lonely little girl, they provided refuge through frequent family moves. I found comfort among the familiar shelves and welcome escape in the stacks of books I checked out every week.
Libraries nourished my sons and expanded their horizons.
I want my grandchildren to enjoy that same haven, the freedom to choose their own adventures, and the space to let their imaginations soar.
My Library, My Story
Have you ever had a moment in a library that changed your life? Maybe it was the book that sparked your imagination, the librarian who helped you find the right resource, or the space that gave you room to dream. Spokane Public Library invites you to share those moments through My Library, My Story, a community–wide celebration of the impact libraries have on our lives.
From March 5-Through March 31, Spokane Public Library invites you to post your personal library experience on social media. Tag @spokanepubliclibrary to collaborate with the library and amplify your voice. For more information, visit www.spokanelibrary.org/mylibrarymystory.
Share your birthday memories
In my previous column, I wrote about celebrating my 60th birthday.
Facebook friend Cis Gors said her 60th (25 years ago in April) proved unforgettable. It included a birthday lunch with coworkers, a surprise party with kids and grandkids arriving from the West Side and Wisconsin, and another surprise party with her overnight crew at work.
What was your most memorable birthday?
Email a brief synopsis to dchval@juno.com and include your first and last name and a phone number. Your story may be included in a future column.
Cindy Hval 