Using literature as a tool for exposure and understanding
January 20, 2021
This blog was written as part of Charlotte Mecklenburg Library's Black Lives Matter program initiative. Learn more about the program and corresponding events here.
A short time ago, I was speaking with a friend about my feelings about my country. A little about politics, a lot about disappointment. I remember expressing my concern about all the anger, the hatred and fear that seemed to be creeping its way into my nation, my job, the lives of my friends, and even into my family. And I said to him – "I was lucky because my parents took the time to educate me about racism."
I had never thought that would be something I would reflect on – how fortunate I was that my family did not "shy away" from sensitive topics. That their patriotism and love for their country didn't make them blind to the faults and failures in its past and even in its present. What stood out to me as a child, and now as an adult and a librarian, was how they relied on literature to help me understand this very real issue.
I remember going to the library and coming home with books such as the Addy series by American Girl, Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred D. Taylor, or A Picture of Freedom by Pat McKissack. These stories taught me so many things. They taught me the history of African Americans in my country and the cruelty and hardships that they have endured. It taught me the unfortunate truth that your skin color made a difference – and sometimes still does. But also, and I think more importantly, it taught me that African Americans are human.
Perhaps that sounds silly, but it's very easy to make generalizations and blanket statements about something you don't understand. It's very easy to dehumanize a culture and therefore disregard what happens to its people because you've never had to interact with it. But when you are faced with understanding, sharing feelings of fear, sorrow, and hope, you face common ground. You are no longer remarking about some distant and unfamiliar minority. These are your neighbors, coworkers, friends and your family. These are people you will fight and die for.
I think literature written by African American authors is pivotal to growing our understanding as a community. There are some events we will never experience in our lives that we can experience amid the pages of a book. We will never be exposed to some struggles in our lives that we can be exposed to through literature.
While I grew up in a very diverse community, that is not the case for everyone. People of many different ethnic origins were a part of my life since birth and I am blessed because of this. I am blessed because I can't imagine growing up in a world where everyone I know looks "like me." I am blessed because I can acknowledge the past. And I am blessed because I can hope for the future.
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This blog post was written by Hannah P. Simmons, a senior library assistant at North County Regional Library.
P.S. One of my favorite quotes from this book is, “Uncertainty, I’m starting to realize, doesn’t mean the loss of hope—it means there’s possibility. I don’t know what will happen next—how potentially exciting! I’m going to have to figure out how to make the most of the life I have, illness or not, partner or not, the march of time notwithstanding.”
Having grown accustomed to working on puzzles before and after storytime, attending storytime and browsing books throughout the years, Sharon Correll noticed her children bringing the Library experience to themselves one August afternoon. After stopping by the branch to pick up book bundles for her three-year-old daughter and five-year-old son, Sharon discovered they placed the freshly borrowed books on display throughout the family’s home just as they would find them at the Library. Next, they busied themselves with reading and, finally, in the sweetest form of imitation, they started to pretend that they were the very librarians they missed. 
