Scenes from a Columbus library
COLUMBUS, Ohio__On a recent weekday, two women from very different walks of life shared a table at a brightly lit library in Central Ohio. One was a middle-aged Muslim from a place her companion referred to broadly as “Africa.” The other was an elderly American who spoke too loud for the hush of a library.
The American struggled with some of her companion’s pronunciation. The word church was particularly beguiling. So the younger woman repeated it over and over. She was trying to describe Muslim funeral rites. Her brother had recently died and referring to the church was her way of making the process relatable to someone with little understanding of Islam.
The library is a great equalizer. A place where anyone can go for free. And perhaps the most diverse place in a highly stratified city where whites make up the majority.
Many branches have recently undergone physical and operational renovations or are in the process. They offer tutors to help students with homework and some have “life skills” volunteers who help members with resumes and online job searches. The conversation I overheard was one example.
Public libraries are one of the things I’ve come to appreciate most about America. And Columbus has put more effort than many cities into making its libraries contemporary, communal spaces that cater to the needs of their communities. An article in the Atlantic in 2014 talks glowingly about efforts to place libraries “front and center” in Columbus’s efforts to become “a modern, relevant, connected city.”
I hear this sentiment frequently. Columbus is changing — rapidly. Still small enough to have that “hometown” feel but drawing interest and attention from outsiders looking for affordable living and multinational companies wanting to take advantage of tax breaks and an able labor pool. (Columbus is one of dozens of middle American cities bidding for Amazon’s next big facility).
To me it still feels provincial, conservative, segregated. The need to feel "relevant" seems vague. And the library system's open-door policy has required some policing. Since the beginning of 2016, the Columbus Metropolitan Library’s 23 branches have evicted more than 4,500 people for reasons including theft, harassment, public intoxication and profanity. A man was shot at the main branch after an argument this summer.
Like many American cities, fear and distrust in Columbus run deep. There are pockets that buck this isolated feel, people with open minds and progressive ideas and libraries that dissolve socioeconomic divisions. But there are far more places that don’t open their doors to everyone and plenty of people who don’t even see the problem.
So I wonder, as public debate about righting inequities grows, can the library become our model? Can the conversations that start there (however awkward) be the start of something better? And is the promise of community described by the reporter from the Atlantic back in 2014 even still relevant?
