My parents grew up poor during the Great Depression. They had a child only a year after they had run away and married in a romantic attempt to escape the poverty and ignorance of their hometown communities. By then World War II was underway and my dad joined the Navy. After the war he and my mother raised four kids and took whatever work was available in the small towns to which they had reluctantly returned in need of help from their families. They never had the chance to go to college.
When I was growing up, I think we owned fewer than a dozen books. This was because of poverty and priorities, not an aversion to literature. My parents loved to read. When they realized that I was a writer they were delighted. They read all of the stories I wrote as a child--no matter how gruesome or bizarre--and begged for more. They were my best audience.
My dad drove me to a second hand bookstore, the only one we had ever heard of, miles from where we lived by that time. He would buy himself an Erle Stanley Gardner mystery and wait outside, smoking and reading, while I shopped for as long as I wanted. I would buy a few paperbacks, take them home and read them, then bring them back to trade in for more. My dad always came up with the extra change needed, and never balked.
My mom signed me up at the public library. I spent many of the happiest times of my life there. And I still find sanctuary in the place where books are loved and shared. No matter how chaotic life may be, the public library offers knowledge and peace.
My mom also added to our family's debt by purchasing a new edition of encyclopedias from a door-to-door salesman. My clothes before I started school were all hand-me-downs. Beginning in first grade, my aunt sewed my clothes and what she couldn't provide we bought at Sears. But my mother didn't hesitate for a moment when she had the opportunity to buy those encyclopedias.
"There's a whole world of things to learn, in those books," she said.
Despite the poverty of their early lives, and the many setbacks they had to face over the years, my parents never became mean or bitter when it came to my education. They wanted me to read everything. Any book, no matter how sophisticated, graphic, or downright crazy, had something to show me about the world beyond my doorstep. My parents never censored and they never stopped trying to learn.
That, I think, is the gift that all people can give their children: the chance to learn. But without affordable literature, without public libraries, the opportunity to learn is greatly diminished for people who are not well off.
Let's not make the mistake of assuming that everyone in America can afford to buy books. Let's not allow our legislators to con us into thinking our libraries are not part of the foundation of education.
Every person reading this has access to a computer. Every person reading this has language skills and a desire to learn more about other people. We all have a stake in keeping our libraries in business, and letting our leaders know that we do not accept the easy way out, when it comes to balancing state budgets with education in mind. Our libraries and other sources of affordable literature need our loud and persistent support, so that every child has the opportunity to explore the world beyond their own doorstep.
Please, pass the message on...