AUTHOR ELSA MARSTON ROARS
Welcome to Library Lions interviews Raising a Roar for libraries and the outstanding librarians serving youth in schools and public libraries across the U.S. Please Roar today’s guest, Author Elsa Marston
One of the few historical biographies written for teenagers about outstanding Muslims whose faith was an essential framework for their actions. See http://www.wisdomtalespress.com for suggestions and guidelines for using the book in educational settings. More Elsa Marston’s Books and Travel Here (below Elsa living on a houseboat on the Nile)
Libraries Around the Globe
In recent years most of my library visits have been overseas in the Middle East.
In Egypt, for instance, I took part in adult group discussions about children’s literature–in a library, of course. In Lebanon the young children sat on the school library floor to listen.
In Palestine the teenagers sat primly in a circle, asking their questions–and politely phrasing their objections–through a translator. (Which can be a little tricky…..)
The library in the Massachusetts town where I grew up was a comfortable old brick house shaded by tall maple trees and set back from the busy street, like a haven. The children’s librarian was an attractive woman with black hair, who always smiled. She even smiled when my twin sister threw up all over a new book by Munro Leaf. (I think most librarians these days do smile, but that was not always the case in the past.)
Newton Centre’s little old-fashioned library had an almost magical aura for me. After all, that was where I first encountered, thanks to the smiling librarian, the flying-carpet magic of the wonderful by E. Nesbit books.
My writers’ critique group, the Bloomington Children’s Authors, has been meeting in our public library since 1987 (yes!). When I was thinking of starting a group and asked my friend Dorothy Haas for advice, she told me not to meet in members’ homes: we would spend too much time serving coffee and tea, lemonade and Perrier, cookies and cakes. So the public library has served us very well indeed for all these years, and its meeting rooms have helped toward the birthing of many good books by some well known authors—Elaine Marie Alphin, Pamela Service, Marilyn Anderson, even me. Sometimes we get pretty noisy (how can we help it, when Keiko Kasza brings in her latest picture book dummy with its hilarious sketches of willful wolves and befuddled bears?) But no one ever shushes us; they just tactfully suggest that we keep our critiquing down to a dull roar, if possible.
What I also like about our public library is that it serves such a wide range of people in the community, including people who often would not be able to spend time in a place where they can be safe, quiet, warm in winter and cool in summer, and aware—I hope—of a much wider world around them.
To paraphrase an oft-quoted remark about the cost of education vs. the cost of ignorance:
Librarians are high on my list of the world’s most important people. They may not make the world move the way captains of industry and finance do, and I suspect they are very rarely paid what they’re worth. But whether paid or volunteer, they maintain the institution that is essential to any free, democratic society. I can’t imagine civilization without libraries.
I’ll roar for the director of the Monroe County Public Library, the impressive Sara Laughlin; and for my friend Amal Altoma who, in her calm, soft-spoken way, made herself not only indispensable but wildly popular during her many years on the job. And for all the folks who keep the library open and busy, almost always with a smile.