Jay Mann, Nederland. A couple of years ago I worked at a public library in another small town. One day a coworker was sorting through a pile of donated books, looking for possible candidates to add to the library’s collection. She turned to me, a Holocaust denial book in hand, and asked – “What do you think Jay, did the Holocaust really happen?” I paused for several long moments, in utter disbelief. This was someone I had worked alongside for many months and she didn’t appear to be joking. I responded in as cool a tone as I could muster, “Well, since I stood at a mass grave in a forest in Lithuania where many of my ancestors are buried, I would say yes.”
Sarcasm isn’t very mature, but in that moment, my only other options were shouting or profanity. She went into a deep silence - possibly from embarrassment, but more likely out of fear since I was her supervisor. We continued to work together, but the questions of “Really? How could you believe that?” lingered.
Many of us experienced a similar feeling during this very contentious Presidential election. We thought we knew our country and had some level of understanding of the people on the “other side” (whatever side you might be on) and their values, but this was a very polarized campaign and the election result was an upset in more than one sense of the word.
Pundits speak of living in bubbles, but bubbles imply some level of transparency, of at least some understanding of the other side. What can we do moving forward to address this huge rift?
I think that it is important to look at our own childhoods as they are typically one of the greatest determinants in a person’s world view. I was born and raised in El Paso, Texas. Its population is 80%+ Hispanic. Diversity wasn’t something that I thought about consciously, but Spanish celebrations like quinceañeras (a young lady’s fifteenth birthday), and foods like green chiles were always there. To this day, Mexican cuisine is my favorite type of comfort food. Since our childhoods are limited to a sample size of one, speaking to other people is one way to broaden our experiences. Personally, I don’t have to look very far to speak to people who lived in a society of extreme racism - my father and his brothers were raised in Apartheid South Africa.
What does all this have to do with libraries? At our core, we are a service profession; we strive to provide equal service to whoever walks through the door, regardless of their background or beliefs. In order to figure out what a new community member needs or wants, we talk to them and ideally get to know them better over time. I once read a simple, but profound statement – the only way that we can truly know what someone else is thinking, what they believe in, is to ask.
But if you aren’t ready to ask, for conversation, books can be a powerful alternative to help understand the point of view of others. There are a number of recent and controversial nonfiction books that are relevant right now. Library founder and volunteer Susan Gerhart recently reviewed two pertinent titles: Hillbilly Elegy and White Trash: The 400 year Untold History of Class in America. Though these books may be distasteful to some, reading them with an open mind forces us to carefully examine our own beliefs as well as those of others. Biographies and fiction can also play a role in painting a vivid picture of people (real or fictional) and their beliefs in the context of the time that they lived. Good authors have enough insight into human nature that they can improve our understanding of “the other.”
This election marks one of the sharpest divisions in our country that I’ve seen in my lifetime. Many people I know can’t comprehend the people who endorsed the winner (or by extension what they assume their beliefs must be). I don’t pretend to believe that libraries are the answer to our nation’s struggles but I do believe that they can be a catalyst. Early childhood programs teach not only early literacy skills but can also teach diversity and tolerance as well. A book can paint a fuller picture of a person, an ideology, or a movement, and lead to a bit of understanding, if not empathy. Although understanding is not the same as forgiveness, I believe that it is necessary in order to start the conversations that we must have, in order to de-monster-fy the “other side.”
Jay Mann is the Director of the Nederland Community Library.
