Editor’s note: This op-ed is by award-winning journalist Telly Halkias. It first appeared in the Bennington Banner.
About 2,000 years ago, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, the great library of Alexandria, burned to the ground. Its demise was arguably the greatest tragedy in mankind’s history of understanding, taking vast reserves of wisdom from our grasp. Modeled after Aristotle’s Lyceum, it was a place to collect and study all the world’s knowledge.
That’s a pretty tall order. But recently my friend Peter Gilbert of the Vermont Humanities Council reminded me there is just as much going on at a small town library here as there ever was in Alexandria or Athens.
Vermont is unique as the nation’s most rural state. Sixty-two percent of its population lives in towns of fewer than 2,500 residents. Back when books didn’t compete with electronic media, community libraries blossomed.
As difficult as it is to finance our schools, libraries face greater challenges. Since much of their enrichment equity remains discretionary, so does their funding. It’s rare to see a Vermont library that is a fully fledged department of its municipality.
Citizens often fill this void in the form of volunteer bodies known as “Friends.” These independent organizations support many needs.
Materiel is as vital as education. For example, while co-sponsoring popular events such as the Vermont Humanities Council’s Reading and Discussion series, Friends throughout the state contribute to children’s programming. Yet they also help purchase new computers and replacement furniture.
Operating on volunteerism and fundraising, Friends pour many hours into their towns’ cerebral landmarks. One could say this suggests a type of religious fervor. More than anything, however, they see their duty as something akin to opening a savings account for social capital.
There’s good reason for this. Libraries everywhere are at a crossroads between the legacies of the 19th century and the demands of the 21st. Historically, religion and churches played a more central role in terms of civic discourse and engagement. In the Digital Age, quick access to ample knowledge is taking over some of those roles.
This isn’t to suggest that libraries are the new churches, as religion remains a bulwark for many Americans. While recent studies have documented its formal decline in New England, especially in Vermont, our interfaith leaders continue their excellent community service. Through this and other efforts, they encourage spirituality in the realm of worship and good works.
Yet clearly, this is a new time. The era is shaped by information technology, and libraries have an opportunity to sustain traditional roles while developing fresh visions of service – in short, to become cathedrals of the mind.
Also, libraries remain important resources for job seekers, prospective new residents to an area, families that can no longer afford the cost of a movie night out, and avid readers who can’t purchase reading material, to name a few.
Coupled with fully occupied computer banks, and patrons bringing in their laptop PCs to use free Wi-Fi connections, libraries are social igloos where all classes can huddle alongside each other as equals.
That’s a powerful notion, and takes plenty of work to sustain. It also requires courage in leadership to look beyond traditional institutional parameters. In rural Vermont, this includes financing from sources outside of local government.
How and when – or even if – our libraries get there is anyone’s guess. But every town with its own facility has a jewel in hand. The pace with which these community assets match the demands of progress will likely determine their long-term potential. This requires insistent evolution past the book-in-the-stacks model.
And how selflessly local citizens consider a few volunteer hours here or some extra donation dollars there can make the difference between a thriving social asset, and a wobbly phoenix unable to rise from Alexandria ’s ashes.
