Card-carrying member

I still remember the day I became a member of the public library in my home town. I can vividly see my mother and I, aged 6, standing at the sparkling new loans desk on opening day as the librarian processed my library card. My very own library card! With a barcode and its own plastic sleeve and everything.

Almost thirty years later I still get jumping beans in my belly just thinking about the moment I first held that card in my hand. (I still have it, hidden away in box of childhood treasures somewhere.)

Even at such a tender age I appreciated what a library card represented; with it came responsibility, knowledge, independance, not to mention access to an awful lot of books. For a number of years I was the library’s most frequent customer. I would borrow books only to be back the next day returning them and borrowing more.

But at some point between then and adulthood the appeal of the public library wore off. For starters, I got greedy – I wanted my own library, full of books I could call my own. I got selfish – I didn’t want to share with anyone else. And I got lazy – I didn’t want to read to a deadline, I wanted to be able to start reading a book and take six months to finish it if I felt like it. I’m still all of those things – greedy, selfish and lazy (although I am getting better about sharing) however I did recently discover my public library again and I was pleasantly surprised by what I found.

What drove to me to the library was the need to borrow picture books for a little girl I was reading with every week at the local primary school. I was struck immediately by the atmosphere of the place, an atmosphere created by the people that were there. There was the elderly gentleman reading a picture book to a group of children. There were three teenagers in one of the private rooms, presumably a study group or a project team working on a school assignment together. In the magazine section there were half a dozen people flicking through copies of Vogue and New Scientist. Everyone was calm and happy to go about their business. No one was in a rush. And it was quiet.

A public library is available to everyone, young and old, all colours, creeds and walks of life. It’s a microcosm of the community and that’s what I love about it. I could spend all day there and just observe people coming and going and doing their thing.

I’m now a regular visitor to my library, not quite as frequent as I used to be, but still proud to be a card-carrying member. I feel good when I’m in the library. And I feel like I’m part of a community which unfortunately isn’t something I feel too often.

Are you a member of your town’s public library? Why?/Why not? What do you love about it?