“Reading is not an option” was his platform as YA literature ambassador, and he once told School Library Journal, “As a young man, I saw families prosper without reading, because there were always sufficient opportunities for willing workers who could follow simple instructions. This is no longer the case. Children who don’t read are, in the main, destined for lesser lives. I feel a deep sense of responsibility to change this.
Librarians with personal commitment, a “code,” do not play follow the leader. They do not take orders as hacks, apologists, or nitpickers. Their responsibility is not to any power structure at all, but to the patron and to the profession. True professionalism implies evolution, if not revolution; those who “profess” a calling have certain goals and standards for improving existence, which necessarily means moving, shaking, transforming it.
In addition to providing rich reading and research resources, your libraries serve as a place of discovery, a sanctuary from lunchroom bullies, a warehouse of data facts for math teachers, a refuge from the misinformation tsunami, and other immeasurable respites from our hurried world.
The first people a dictator puts in jail after a coup are the writers, the teachers, the librarians — because these people are dangerous. They have enough vocabulary to recognize injustice and to speak out loudly about it. Let us have the courage to go on being dangerous people.
What a wonderful quote from one of my very favorite writers.
It’s still National Library Week. You should be especially nice to a librarian today, or tomorrow. Sometime this week, anyway. Probably the librarians would like tea. Or chocolates. Or a reliable source of funding.
Neil Gaiman (via ala-con)
chocolate is always good …
Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are.
Adult librarians are like lazy bakers: their patrons want a jelly doughnut, so they give them a jelly doughnut. Children’s librarians are ambitious bakers: ‘You like the jelly doughnut? I’ll get you a jelly doughnut. But you should try my cruller, too. My cruller is gonna blow your mind, kid.’
John Green (via duttonbooks)
There’s nothing wrong with reading a book you love over and over. When you do, the words get inside you, become a part of you, in a way that words in a book you’ve read only once can’t.
Reading is performance. The reader— the child under the blanket with a flashlight, the woman at the kitchen table, the man at the library desk— performs the work. The performance is silent. The readers hear the sounds of the words and the beat of the sentences only in their inner ear. Silent drummers on noiseless drums. An amazing performance in an amazing theater.
Ursula K. Le Guin