Building a Literacy-Friendly Neighborhood

Perhaps they have been around for years, but I only started to notice what I call “yard libraries” when I retired and began to take morning walks around my neighborhood last fall.  If you have never seen one, they look like large bird houses with glass front doors, sitting right at the sidewalk edge of people’s yards.  A sign reads:  “Take a book, leave a book.”  The little libraries vary in size, but most hold 20 to 30 titles. 

Upon investigation, I discovered the organization behind this literacy campaign:  LittleFreeLibrary.org.  You can purchase a little library from their online store (There are 23 different models ranging from the basic “Essential,” for $149.55 to the Cadillac of libraries, “The Songbird” for $499.95.) or build one yourself.  A Youtube video will guide you.  The organization just asks that you register your little library with them ($40) allowing you to display the official name of “Little Free Library” and providing you access to “support and benefits.”   You can type in your zip code on the website and a map will show you all of the registered little libraries in your area.  By further clicking, you can see the exact address and sometimes a photo.  (There are 9 registered in my zip code.) The website, whose slogan is “Build a Literacy-Friendly Neighborhood,” boasts over 36,000 little libraries worldwide.  There are also posts from little library stewards (more on that term in a minute) such as “stolen little library” (really?), “a Boy Scout project”, and “suggestions for advertising your library”.

The website offers five easy steps for setting up your library:

1. Identify a location and steward.  (I love the term “steward.”  You are not just a librarian but also one who serves and protects the collection.)

2. Get a library.

3. Register your library.

4. Build support.  (If you want your library to be more than decorative, you have to publicize it.  Suggestions include advertising through social media and issuing a press release.)

5. Add your library to the world map.

It sounds like I am making fun (maybe a little), but I confess to both a delight and a fascination with this phenomenon. It seems like this idea would be a real treasure in areas that lack adequate access to books, yet clearly Arlington has also embraced the opportunity.  After all, although living in the Washington Metro area affords local readers the luxury of a number of brick and mortar bookstores as well as a network of excellent public libraries, true bibliophiles are all about sharing their books.  Unfortunately, not all neighborhoods welcome the little libraries.  I checked the map using my sister’s zip code.  She lives in a community where everyone has to have the same color mailbox and you have to apply to a board for approval if you want to re-landscape your front flowerbed.  Not surprisingly, there were no little libraries there. 

Depending on my route, I can pass as many as 5 little libraries on a 3-mile jaunt and I routinely peer into the collections. I wonder, does your little library collection say something about you in the way that your choice of furnishings or clothing reflects your taste? If you have a high number of yellow-paged self-help books and old philosophy texts on your little shelves are you really trying to increase literacy in your neighborhood?    I’ve never (yet) taken a book but I have had conversations with my husband and other friends about the ethics of contributing to other people’s libraries.  It strikes me as a little creepy to drive up to a stranger’s curb and offload a small bag of books, even though I snobbily believe that I am improving the quality of the offerings.  (Their opinions on the subject varied.) As appealing as having my own yard library is (custom-built and modeled after some famous literary abode), the sad truth is that my little street gets almost no foot traffic (a must, according to the web site).  I would only be disappointed as I daily checked my little shelves and discovered that nothing was moving.  I have found a compromise, however.  On a New Year’s Day walk with my husband, we found a little library right in front of the entrance to the swimming pool connected to our local high school.  High foot traffic, no one’s personal yard – perfect!  Later that same day, I drove back over with a bag of 8 books, some of which my college daughter had discarded when she was last home and a few recently published novels that I had finished.  Two weeks later, my husband and I were again walking by the high school and I became excited to check the little library.  “Let’s see if my books are gone!” 

He paused.  “I don’t know if that is a good idea,” he said.  “You seem to have your ego wrapped up in this.  Are you going to be unhappy if they are all still there?”

Only one of my books remained, a YA novel from my daughter.  I beamed.  I went home and got another small bag.  I just checked the pool library again this weekend.  People have now taken 14 of the 15 books I have left.  That one pesky title still remains.  What’s up with that?  I drove back over with some new books.  As I pulled up, three other cars did as well, people headed for the swimming pool.  I pretended to be checking my phone as I waited for them to go inside.  Just call me the stealth steward.