By Kiely Fisher, Eastern Regional Manager, Adams County Library System
I’ve recently been considering why I chose to become a librarian. It’s not entirely a love of books, although that definitely inspired the decision. Running a story time stresses me out and program-planning is not my passion. Collection development – the process of selecting and deselecting materials – is quite possibly my great library love, but I may not feel so strongly if it was my sole responsibility.
Oh, but those one-on-one moments of connecting someone to the next right book, especially a young reader experiencing the complete and utter joy of reading for the first time? It is pure magic to be part of that process.
As a librarian, I’ve learned that it’s not enough to love books and reading. It’s more important to love access to books and information, and to be willing to preserve and protect that access for all. I couldn’t have known at the start of my library journey that promoting and defending the freedom to read would become such a vital part of my future librarian life.
Librarians work diligently and intentionally to provide something for everyone, to make sure the entire community is represented within the collection, to allow each reader to see themselves within the pages of a book, to provide opportunities to witness another’s humanity, and to better understand ourselves and each other.
Two of library science’s foundational laws can be summarized as “a book for every reader and a reader for every book.” It’s up to me, as a reader, to decide which books are right for me and which ones are not. It’s up to me, as a librarian, to help build a collection where every reader can make their own choices without judgment, where the widest range of ideas and views are available, and to provide access to books and resources that “enrich the quality and diversity of thought and expression” (ALA Freedom to Read Statement). We trust readers to decide for themselves which books are right for them, and we work to preserve that right for each reader who comes through our doors.
The American Library Association’s Freedom to Read statement ends with this: “We do not state these propositions in the comfortable belief that what people read is unimportant. We believe rather that what people read is deeply important; that ideas can be dangerous; but that the suppression of ideas is fatal to a democratic society. Freedom itself is a dangerous way of life, but it is ours.”
Banned Books Week, observed earlier this month, is an annual weeklong awareness campaign that emphasizes the value of free and open access to information, celebrates the freedom to read, and reaffirms that libraries are truly for everyone. I’ve been reflecting all month on the cherished ability to choose and read for myself.
From checking out or buying a banned book to registering to vote, supporting an advocacy organization, or volunteering at the library, how do you celebrate and defend your freedom to read?