Yesterday, as part of the Speak Up for libraries program (which I wrote of in the
Philadelphia Inquirer here), I spent four consecutive periods with the very special students of Downingtown West and their beloved (for such good reason) librarian, Michelle Nass. We talked about the role of libraries in our lives, and the treasures we've found there. We learned some of the history of the Berlin Wall (history libraries helped me uncover) and reflected on the metaphorical and physical walls that still separate us. We listened to Ada and Stefan of my Berlin novel
Going Over weigh the consequences of freedom, asked ourselves when, if ever, we'd take the risk to jump a wall, wrote poems, and made graffiti art.
After school during the book club hour, we talked about how books get made, what editors do, the difference between writing and publishing, and the writer friends I've come to love.
I was staggered by the receptivity, creativity, and generosity of these students. Their willingness to dig in deep, to answer hard questions, to write—and eagerly share—their work. I came home with a fat file of poems and art, wanting to share every sentiment and drawing here. Space is my limitation. I share a few poems below, a collage of art above, but please know this, Downingtown West: all of it was special, and so are you.
Write about what risks are worth taking, and freedom is, I prompted. This is what happened:
What is life
but a bundle of risks
a handful of desires.
We get thrown in the mix
of temptations and hopes
but in order to obtain
the things that we want
we must go through pain.
— Mike Lodge
Freedom isn't free.
Yes, that's the irony.
We hear its cry.
We hear its call.
Yet here we are
at an ancient all.
A wall we cannot live without.
A wall that fills us up with doubt.
And some of us will take a risk.
Some of us will die to have it all.
That freedom filled with irony.
For that I would fall.
— Micky
Freedom
It's not impossible,
but it's not clear.
It's what lies in the future that is feared.
But what's life without freedom?
A life of being caged?
The only thing that gives us freedom
is change.
— August Walker
Not much is worth risking my life for.
Family, friends, love, freedom come to mind.
Would you risk everything now for a chance at freedom?
If everything could be lost, would you try?
One moment you're there, the next you're gone.
Never to see your loved ones again.
Is it really worth it, for a chance at freedom?
— Samantha Goss
Can you go against the stream?
Fight the system?
Make your own path?
It will be hard.
Blood. Loss. Isolation.
You are a soldier with no army.
You are a lone soul looking for a place
to call home.
Stay strong.
— Megan
To rebel against the evils which control
our very lives.
In hopes to prevail against the wings of Freedom
and its vibes.
These days our right to think different is
challenged by all.
Yet without the help of others our ideas
will surely fall.
What is worth my life?
What is worth my death?
What will hold me back?
What will set me free?
Love
Freedom
Freedom
Love
That is all I need.
— Emily Gibbs
Many, many thanks to Michelle Nass for organizing this day. Thanks to the students. Thanks to the librarians who do what they do and keep their doors open for us. And thank you to Jennifer Yasick, with whom I began this beautiful day.
Today, authors and illustrators from across the state of Pennsylvania are out in force, speaking up for libraries as part of the PA Forward campaign, a Pennsylvania Library Association initiative designed to shine the light on what libraries do and why they are vital to the communities in which we live.
As part of that initiative, I reflected back through the years—on the libraries I have known, the shelter they have provided, and the books they have helped me write. Hanby Jr. High Library (pictured above). Radnor Memorial Library. Van Pelt Library. Historical Society of Pennsylvania. Free Library of Philadelphia. These and so many other libraries have been essential to my life, my work, my process, and I celebrate them and PA Forward in the Op/Ed pages of the Philadelphia Inquirer today,
here. I'm also heading out to Downingtown West, where I'll spend the day talking with students about libraries and about the most recent book—the Berlin Wall novel
Going Over—that was born, in part, of stacks and microfilm. Just three days until the world remembers the 25th anniversary fall of the Berlin Wall, I'll say. And then we'll be off and talking.
With thanks to Margie Stern and all the librarians. And a special thanks to Michelle Nass, my Downingtown hostess with the mostest for the day.
On November 6th (or thereabouts) writers and illustrators from across the great state of Pennsylvania will be stepping inside libraries to celebrate the impact libraries have on our lives and to remind our communities of the importance of safeguarding these essential institutions going forward. I have been paired with Downingtown High School (West) and librarian Michelle Nass, and what a day we are cooking up—four presentations on the Berlin Wall and the library research that led to that book's creation, and an afternoon among high school book clubbers who are reading Going Over.
I'm delighted and honored to be involved. It's a huge program, thoughtfully developed and executed by a team of librarians—including Margie Stern, the Coordinator of Youth Services in the Delaware County Library System—and eagerly participated in by those many of us who have relied on libraries throughout our careers (and long before "career" was a word we even entertained).
This weekend, the 2014 Pennsylvania Library Association Conference gets underway at the Lancaster County Convention Center. I'm grateful to have been joined with writer/teacher/editor/friend Stephen Fried (Thing of Beauty, Bitter Pills, The New Rabbi, Husbandry, Appetite for America) and Neal Bascomb (The Nazi Hunters, The Perfect Mile, Red Mutiny) for a Monday, 2:00 panel on nonfiction. I'm grateful, too, for the chance to hang out with the guardians of books, otherwise known as librarians. Thank you to Karl R. for the invitation.
If you are at the event, I hope you'll find us.
