When I walked into a library for the first time, I thought it was a church. In the early 1960s, the library in Monroe, North Carolina, was located in a large antebellum house. It had lots of polished wood, sunlight pouring through the windows, and flower arrangements here and there, just like the old country churches I attended. The fact that we had to be quiet inside made it seem even more like a church. That’s when I began to think of libraries as sacred places.
I’ve visited many libraries since then, from the brand-new library tower added to the Jackson Library at UNC in Greensboro when I was a student there, to a bookmobile visiting a country store in the isolated rural area where I was a student intern, to the labyrinthine stacks of Perkins Library at Duke University. I’ve loved them all (although I didn’t love the dust in Perkins, which always made me sneeze).
My local library branch is part of a consortium of libraries in North Carolina that shares books and other resources among its member libraries. That system makes a vast array of books available to me. I can request a book from hundreds of miles away and be able to read it within a week. I never have to fear running out of good books to read. (Yes, I know I can download e-books, but that will never satisfy me the way holding a book in my hands does.)
I can’t imagine living without a library, and I think all children should have access to libraries, which now provide access to much more than books. Picture books about libraries are the perfect way to introduce young readers to the importance of libraries in the greater world around them. Two of the books below highlight what a difference access to a library can make. Two of them show the lengths to which courageous people will go to build and protect libraries.
Richard Wright and the Library Card
By William Miller
Illustrated by Gregory Christie
Richard Wright and the Library Card shows just how life-changing access to a library can be. It’s a picture book biography of Richard Wright, the best-selling author of Native Son and of Black Boy, his acclaimed autobiography.
Author William Miller tells us that Richard Wright grew up loving words and loving stories, but his formal education was erratic and ended when he was still young. He read whatever he could find, sometimes scavenging newspapers and books from trash cans. When he was seventeen, he took a bus to Memphis and got a job in an optician’s office, where he swept floors and did other chores. His dream was to earn enough money to move to Chicago.
Richard longed to read the books he knew were in the public library, but black people weren’t allowed to use the library. He studied the men who worked in the office and chose one that he thought might be willing to help him. Then he dared to ask the man for help in getting books from the library. The man agreed to lend him his library card.
Even though Richard had to tell the librarian that the books were for someone else, he was able to get books by Dickens, Tolstoy, and other writers. The books changed his outlook forever. When he was finally able to move to Chicago, he remembered all that he’d read, and “Every page was a ticket to freedom, to the place where he would always be free.”
Gregory Christie’s illustrations are particularly good at capturing facial expressions — Richard’s longing as he thinks about books, the librarian’s contempt for him, the hope on Richard’s face as he travels north to a new life.
As Richard Wright’s story shows us, access to libraries allows people to fulfill their true potential. When people are denied access to libraries, we all lose what they might otherwise have contributed to society.
You can learn more about William Miller here. More information about Gregory Christie is available here.
Biblioburro: A True Story from Columbia
Jeanette Winter
In the United States, creating a new library might require dozens of committee meetings, budget proposals, and grant applications. There would be a groundbreaking ceremony and a ribbon cutting. Someone would have to hire staff and order books. The process might take years.
When Luis Soriana decided to start a library, the process was a wee bit different.
Biblioburro tells us that Luis lived deep in the jungles of Columbia and that he loved books. When his wife complained that his books were taking over their house, he came up with a great idea. He decided to take his books to the people in Columbia who had no books.
Luis bought two burros to carry the books. He built crates to hang on the burros’ backs. He filled the crates with books. Then he started traveling to faraway villages to loan books to the people who need them. Sometimes he read books aloud to the groups of children who ran to greet him when they saw him and the burros coming. He even encounters a bandit who demands silver but takes a book instead.
According to an author’s note, Luis Soriana started with a collection of 70 books in 2000. It has grown to 4,800 books. He makes trips every weekend to the approximately 300 people who depend on him for the books that brighten their world.
The illustrations for Biblioburro look like South American folk art. They appear simple at first glance, but a closer look reveals small details that make the story even richer, such as the tropical birds and lizards that appear on almost every page.
The story behind Biblioburro shows that courageous and creative people find new ways to make books available to people. They don’t deliberately put obstacles between people and the books they want and need.
You can learn more about Jeanette Winter here.
Digging for Words: José Alberto Gutiérrez and the Library He Built
By Angela Burke Kunkel
Illustrated by Paola Escobar
Digging for Words begins with scenes of a young boy named José as his goes about his day. He rides his bike to school, tries to pay attention in class, and plays fútbol with his friends. All the while, he’s dreaming of Saturday, when he can go to Paradise. Meanwhile, a much older José is starting his night shift as a garbage man in the city of Bogotá. The lives of the two Josés will intersect on Saturday, when they meet in Paradise.
Paradise is a library created by José Gutiérrez in the barrio of La Nueva Gloria from books he scavenged while making his rounds as a garbage collector. The young José is just one of many children who rush to Paradise on Saturdays. The library is stuffed with stacks and piles of books, and the children dig through them to find treasures.
José finally makes his selection and goes home to rush through his chores and his dinner, eager to settle into bed with his new book and the cuento, or story, inside. The story ends on Sunday morning, when José is already looking forward to what he’ll find in Paradise.
José Gutiérrez remembers the first book, or el primer libro, that he found while collecting trash. It was a copy of Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, and he can still remember being transported by the scenes described in the story. He still finds books that transport him, but now he collects books for Paradise.
I only grudgingly began to accept digitally rendered illustrations, but I wholeheartedly admire the ones in Digging for Words. I especially love the two-page spread showing Bogotá at night as José Gutiérrez makes his rounds in his garbage truck. The truck can be spotted traveling all over the city and then finally reaching a point where a stack of books has been left beside a garbage can. The books sparkle like jewels in the glow of a streetlight.
While young readers may not recognize it, the book that young José takes to bed with him is The Little Prince, and scenes from the book are shown filling his dreams.
An author’s note provides more information about José Gutiérrez, who went back to school in his fifties to earn his high school diploma. He still runs his library, but he also directs a foundation that provides reading materials to schools, libraries, and other organizations throughout Columbia. He says that “My dream is to exchange my garbage truck for a truck full of books and travel the country. I am sure I will pull it off.”
Also included are a list of selected online resources about Gutiérrez and notes about the books mentioned in the text. A photo of José in the library with a child is shown, and that library truly is stuffed from floor to ceiling with books!
You can learn more about By Angela Burke Kunkel here. More information about Paola Escobar is available here.
The Librarian of Basra: A True Story from Iraq
By Jeanette Winter
It’s a question that most of us will never face: How do you save a library if your hometown is being bombed?
Alia Muhammad Baker did face that question. Her library in Iraq was a meeting place for people who loved books. When the threat of war loomed, she asked for permission to move the books to a safe place, but the authorities refused. The Librarian of Basra is the story of what she did in response.
When the war did reach Basra, everyone else abandoned the library, but Alia stayed. She asked a friend to help her save the books. All that night, she and a band of volunteers moved books over a wall and hid them in a restaurant. The library was burned to the ground nine days later, but the books were safe.
Alia hired a truck to move all 30,000 books to her home and the homes of friends. Then she could only wait and dream of the day when the war would end, the library would be rebuilt, and the books would have a proper home again.
Jeanette Winter tells this dramatic story in simple language that even small children can understand. The illustrations are equally dramatic, but they also have an eloquent simplicity. The clear message throughout is always that books are precious.
The Librarian of Basra has frequently been challenged or banned. Among the reasons given are that the scenes of war will frighten children. As a young child, I watched many old movies on Saturday afternoons, and the choices were often limited to movies about World War II, often those starring John Wayne. Far from being frightened by the scenes of war, I was thrilled by the fact that adults were doing courageous things and fighting for democracy. Alia Muhammad Baker is every bit as courageous and inspiring as John Wayne was!
The librarian of Basra hid the books in her library to protect them. She didn’t hide them because she was afraid of the ideas they contained. She dreamed of the day when she could make the books available to everyone again. She didn’t try to limit who could read them. I think she’s a perfect role model for children.
You can learn more about Jeanette Winter here.
Goin’ Someplace Special
By Patricia C. McKissack
Illustrated by Jerry Pinkney
In Goin’ Someplace Special, a young girl named ‘Tricia Ann sets off one morning on her first solo trip to Someplace Special, which is what she calls her favorite place in the world. She’s been there many times with Mama Frances, and she knows which bus to take and which streets to follow. Her grandmother allows her to go by herself this time, reminding her to “hold yo’ head up and act like you b’long to somebody.”
On her journey to Someplace Special, ‘Tricia Ann encounters many people who brighten her day. She chats with one of her grandmother’s friends, is given a free pretzel by a street vendor, and receives a compliment from a doorman she knows.
She also encounters many examples of racism along the way. She must go to the back of the bus and sit behind the sign that marks the “Colored Section.” She sits on a bench but must quickly jump to her feet when she realizes that it’s labeled “For Whites Only.” Then she is accidently swept into the lobby of a hotel by a crowd of people and is humiliated when the manager angrily her orders out of the building and shouts, “No colored people are allowed!”
It is all too much for her, and she tearfully decides that going to Someplace Special isn’t worth the hurt. Then an elderly woman known as Blooming Mary helps get her back of track by telling her to listen for her grandmother’s voice inside her head. She realizes that her grandmother would tell her, “Don’t study on quittin’, just keep walking straight ahead — and you’ll make it.”
‘Tricia Ann does make it to Someplace Special, a huge building with a message chiseled in stone above the entrance — Public Library: All are welcome.
As she explains in an author’s note, Goin’ Someplace Special is based on Patricia C. McKissack’s own childhood experiences in the 1950s, when the Nashville public library was an island of integration in a sea of Jim Crow segregation.
Jerry Pinkney’s illustrations truly bring the story to life. We see ‘Tricia Ann’s joy at the prospect of going to the library by herself. We see her anger and her shame as she experiences explicit racism along the way. Then all of that is washed away, at least for a while, by the sight of her beloved library, where she knows she is welcome.
This story highlights the fact that libraries are “much more than bricks and stone.” As Mama Frances says, a library is “a doorway to freedom.”
You can learn more about Patricia C. McKissack here. More information about Jerry Pinkney is available here.
I still think libraries are sacred places, but now it’s because I understand their role in a democracy. Public libraries provide access to the knowledge within them, and equal access to knowledge is the bedrock of a nation devoted to equality and to justice for all. The picture books described here are a great way to show our youngest citizens — who may have just received their first library cards — how important libraries are.
The featured image above shows a bookmobile in Northampton County, North Carolina, in January 1950. More information about it is available here.