When I was 10, we moved to Eastern Oregon.
(We lived in Butthump... right next to Dryhump. Sort of twin cities.)
Occasionally, I walked the mile or so to the library on a Saturday to get some books to read.
One day, I discovered the young adult section.
I was so excited!
Here were some interesting books!
I found a small stack, took them to the desk, presented my card and was stopped by a frosty glare from the librarian.
"You can't check these books out. They're too advanced for you."
I had never heard anything like that before.
I was accustomed to doing whatever I was told by the adults in charge, whoever they were, so I did not complain or protest, I simply left the books on the counter, walked out and went home.
As I walked in the door, my dad looked up from the couch, where he was sitting with his slippered feet up on the coffee table.
"What books did you get?" he asked me.
I explained what had happened.
He stood up, grabbed his car keys, did not change his shoes and said, "Get in the car."
He drove me to the library. We marched straight up to the front desk where Ms.Frosty was still on duty.
He said, "My daughter tells me that you didn't let her check out the books she wanted."
She agreed with him, and explained that I'd have to be 16 to read any of those books.
"What if I give permission?" Dad asked.
Frosty whipped out a piece of paper.
Dad wrote on it, My daughter has my permission to read ANY BOOK in the library without limits.
He signed it, handed it back to her, turned to me and said, "Now go get some books."
Was that heroic or what?
I found some great books.
I was happy every time I walked into the library, because I knew I could invoke the paper when the person behind the desk did not know me.
The first time I learned that books have power.
Thanks, Dad.
That was one cool post, Ami. It made me miss my dad. It's moments like that, where we stand up for our kids, that they are going to remember. I had a moment like that too. I was being accused by a doctor who refused to renew my perscription that I was just looking to get high, when in reality, I was getting the meds I needed for a severe case of mono. When I got home and told my mom, she got on the phone, called the head of the clinic and said, Just who do you think you are to infer anything about my daughter? I got the pills, I got an apology and most of all, I realized how much my parents loved and trusted me.
ReplyDeleteOh, Ami, your dad was awesome. I loved checking out books as a kid. My family didn't go a lot since we lacked funds, so reading on the weekends WAS our family activity.
ReplyDeleteLove that library smell.
What a great dad!
ReplyDeleteThat's such a triumphant feeling as a child when your parent is willing to make a spectacle in your honor. It's a validation of your humanity in a world that expects you to remain inside your cocoon, practically insignificant, until you emerge as a fully formed adult.
ReplyDeleteBTW, preventing kids from checking out books for "adult content" only keeps them from taking the books home. I read most of those "off limits" books in the library lounge. Which makes the checkout restrictions pretty ridiculous if you ask me.
Awesome, awesome, awesome.
ReplyDeleteOne thing I don't think I've ever thanked my parents (especially my formerly-hyperBaptist mom) enough for: they never censored the books I wanted to read or the music I wanted to listen to. They got a little concerned during the year and a half that my favorite bands were Suicidal Tendencies and Slayer, but had the wisdom not to forbid. Even when I was playng Dungeons & Dragons at recess. Even when I was cranking the Skinny Puppy and Christian Death. Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad.
Dude! What an awesome dad!
ReplyDeleteThanks for digging up that post for me. I'm bookmarking it, for my future qualms :-).
ReplyDelete