book angel

I just read an article in the San Jose Mercury News this morning about a teacher who saves books that his school library throws out.

This week, Wright, 57, rumpled in sweatpants and a T-shirt, rushed to Morrill Middle School after the Berryessa school board had declared 686 library books surplus. The teacher browsed through volumes laid out on tables. He filled boxes until the custodian turned out the lights and chased him out. He returned Friday morning, his triumph mixed with amazement and distress.

“Why get rid of ‘The Yearling’? Or ‘Leaves of Grass’! How could anybody say there just isn’t room for ‘Leaves of Grass’?” he asked. “If they were throwing out ‘Captain Underpants’ I’d understand, but not ‘Leaves of Grass.’ “

Granted, I haven’t read Leaves of Grass, but I have read The Yearling. And one of the pictures showed a few of these reject books laid out on a table, including a book by Ray Bradbury. Which really got me riled. The article also mentions such titles as The Witch of Blackbird Pond and Anne Bronte’s Agnes Grey.

Apparently this guy takes the books home, puts them in his classroom, or takes them to another school library that is happy to receive them. All three are much better outlets than the dumpster. It’s too bad the school doesn’t have access to some kind of donation program for the books.

Here’s something else that’s scary:

He glances at the spacious library with empty shelves and counters of computers, and laments that the room that once held many more shelves of books now is labeled “the media center.”

I went walking past my old elementary school a couple of weeks ago, and noticed the same thing had happened to the library there. It was a “media center.” As useful as computers and other media can be, I find this incredibly disturbing. It’s a trend of belief that with the advent of the internet, books are suddenly obsolete. It reminds me of something Ben said on a recent post:

I’ve noticed it in myself, watching my attention span shrink as my mind reshapes itself in order to digest bite-sized meals instead of the full nine courses of a Tolstoy or a Melville or even the ordinary single-course meal of an Austen or a Hardy. I gravitate towards shorter books, I shy away from the long. (And “long” grows shorter by the day.) I’d rather read blogs than books.

But don’t worry, he redeems himself:

Wrong wrong wrong! Blogs are great, and the Internet’s a wonderful thing, but I will not let it suck away my capacity to enjoy books.

Let me remind everyone that books are the most enduring data storage device in history, our friend since the dark ages.

So this teacher is one of my personal heroes.

Only one thing:

At home he’s got bookcases, a steamer trunk in the basement, and soon plastic bins for his crawl space, all filled with books.

Packrat. Reminds me of me. And Ben. And Mike. Plus maybe a little OCD on the side. Let’s hope someday I have enough shelving so nothing has to go in boxes