I've been around libraries all my life, starting with my mother bringing me to the bookmobile in Lynn when I was very small. Our whole neighborhood would walk together, mothers and children, and it would be an outing for the ladies as well. They would have a chance to catch up and speak with other adults, and the kids could skip along around the edges. These households would have had just the one car for the father to take to work, so it was a special occasion for all involved to go out to the bookmobile.
When we moved to Salem, my mother brought both my brother and I to the library on Essex Street as soon as we could sign our names to get a library card. I spent many hours there, so much so that when I entered high school, Mrs. Tomlinson in the Children's Room asked if I wanted to work there. That's where I started my profession, 14 years old, a page in the Children's Room.
After college I tried a variety of jobs, and none really seemed to fit. Ten years after graduating from UMass/Amherst, I saw a posting for a Children's Librarian I at the Lynn Public Library. I filled in the application, went for the interviews, and started shortly after. Finally, I had found something that fit.
In the years between being a page at 14 and now, I had the chance to work in all departments at the public library, and now at an academic one. I made my way to the big office with the ornate, antique furniture as library director, and then stepped back into the role that I have enjoyed most through my career, reference librarian.
But this time of year brings back a memory of my first days, and when I worked primarily with children. I was at the Houghton Branch in West Lynn, and we had 16mm films we would show once a week in addition to craft making and story times. There was a very popular book that had been made into a short film in the 1980's. The hero was a girl whose parents had immigrated from Russia for religious reasons. She had a Thanksgiving homework assignment, to dress a doll as a Pilgrim, with a capital P. One of those people with the black clothes, and silver buckles on their hats. She was having a terrible time of it, and went in tears to her mother. The mother sent her to bed, and made a pilgrim, small p.
The costume she crafted was of a Russian peasant. The teacher was upset, and told the girl she had missed the point of the assignment. When the girl told her mother, they talked about the reasons the Pilgrims had come to Plymouth, and the reasons her own family had come. The little girl then realized she also was a pilgrim, even without the silver buckle.
The Houghton Branch Library was situated in an incredibly diverse neighborhood. We had families from all over Europe, Asia and the West Indies coming in every day. What I remember most about my stay there is that after showing this movie, a Cambodian girl came up to me in tears. She said, "Nadine, does this mean I'm a pilgrim too?" Yes, I answered, you are. She was a struggling student, both academically and socially. That day, at least, she felt she belonged somewhere. She fit in.
To all my fellow pilgrims, small p, Happy Thanksgiving, and may you find your special fit also.
