Let Freedom ... Read!

My greatest passion is a privilege I forget to recognize

I have never known a life without books.

In my earliest memories I am sitting on the couch with one of my parents or grandparents reading Dr. Seuss’s “One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish” or the Little Golden book “The Poky Little Puppy” or any number of other books that were around. I had them memorized before I could read the actual words. I do not know who is responsible for the books of my childhood, but I do know that once I started reading, I never stopped.

Thanks, Mom, for digging this up. Golly, I miss the ‘80s.

In elementary school, I ran out of books to read at my grade level. I was a frequent visitor to the library, where I discovered entire shelves of Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books. I read as many of them as I could because I loved the characters, and they had so many adventures to keep my mind occupied.

Summers found me riding my bike with a backpack of books on my back or a bag hanging off the handlebars to the library to exchange the ones I’d finished for the ones I wanted to read next. (The library was also air conditioned, which sadly, my house was not, so that was an added benefit.)

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

In college, I found solace in the library—my favorite place to study—and even when I was a stay-at-home mom with two kids under the age of 2, I found ways to keep a book nearby so my brain could have a moment of respite from all the childcare.

Throughout my reading life, I’ve had people try to tell me what books I should or should not read, but I can’t recall a time when anyone ever told me that I couldn’t read.

//

This past spring, I spent twelve weeks as a high school English teacher. It was certainly dreamy at times, but it was also a lot of hard work. One of my tasks was to teach two sections of upperclassmen Arthur Miller’s The Crucible. It was one of my favorite things from the whole stint. Before that, I knew little about the play, but I came to love the characters and themes.

I was especially drawn to the depictions of women who were “different.” One man ends up accusing his wife of witchcraft because she reads books that aren’t the Bible, and he doesn’t know what they’re about.

We had a good laugh about that, but even centuries after the play’s setting, certain segments of society are still wary of a well-read woman.

//

By now, I would hope Malala Yousafzai’s story is familiar, but in case it isn’t, here’s a quick overview:

Malala was born in Pakistan and raised by an education activist father while her region of the country was under Taliban rule. She went to school and blogged under a pseudonym before she was a teenager to tell about what her life was like. Her father did not agree with the Taliban’s ban on education for girls, which made him and his family a target. When she was 15, Malala and two other girls were shot on a bus while they were coming back from school after having taken some exams.

She survived the attack but had to leave Pakistan both for her healthcare and for the threats on her life. Malala became an even more outspoken activist for the right to education for girls.

You can read all about her story in her book I Am Malala: How One Girl Stood Up for Education and Changed the World.

If you’re in Lancaster and are free on July 12, Malala’s birthday, we’re having a special storytime with artist Libby Etheridge, who will read Malala’s Magic Pencil and lead kids in a craft.

//

Until I had read Malala’s story, I had never thought about what a privilege it is to have grown up not just with books available to me but with the freedom to read. It is a freedom I exercise daily but seldom think about as such. For me, reading is a given.

I can buy books. Check out books from the library. Attend book clubs. Lead book clubs. Teach books to students. Talk about books with other readers. Recommend books to other readers. Work at a book store.

I—and you—are free to do all of these things. On this upcoming Fourth of July holiday, we, Americans of these United States, like to talk a lot about freedom, which is why I wanted to remind myself (and all of us) about how lucky we are to have the freedom to read whatever books we want. That’s not a freedom that everyone in the entire world has, and it’s a freedom that is slowly being eroded in some communities and schools.

Book banning is another whole topic, and I’m not going to address it fully today except to remind us that every book ban chips away at the pillar of freedom. Not everyone has to read the books you want them to read. Not everyone has to steer clear from the books you hate or think are inappropriate. Freedom for one of us is freedom for all of us.

Later this year, we’ll talk more about banned books during the annual Banned Books Week in October. Until then, pick up a book, listen to an audiobook or visit the library or a bookstore and consider what a privilege that is.

We have the freedom to read. Let’s keep it that way.