Intellectual Freedom

When I was in high school, I wanted to read The Satanic Verses, by Salman Rushdie.  I wanted to read it for no other reason than that it had been all over the news.  Libraries were banning it. People were burning it. Ayatollah Khomeini put out a fatwā  on Rushdie's life. What, I wondered, could be so powerful, to cause so much fuss? 

Likewise, I would walk slowly past the section where Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire sat on the shelves of my public library. I was a bit of a chicken when it came to scary things, so vampires were a no-go at the time, but the book called to me because I had heard whispered conversations that it was "bad", read the newspaper articles saying that it should be "banned" and "taken off the shelves".  (It would take me another 20 years to get around to reading the book. In 2015, Louis and Lestat were hardly terrifying, but the images of grief, remorse, redemption, loneliness, forgiveness, and suffering hit me like a fist.  I wondered again, how could anyone want to keep people from this book?)

Last week, I was at home discussing the upcoming Banned Books Week festivities I hoped to host.  My youngest daughter asked what "banned books" meant, so I tried to explain it to her. (Full disclosure:  I am a fervent, tireless advocate of intellectual freedom.  I have a very strong bias against banning literature.) It went something like this:

Me: Well, there are some people who don't like certain books or certain topics, so they don't want to read books on those topics.  But they also don't want other people to read them either, so they try to get them removed from the classroom or the library.  

Her: (puzzled look)

Me: I know. 

I am a strong advocate for self censoring.  If one does not like something, one should avoid it. That doesn't mean that one can tell others that they must avoid it too. 

I am also a strong advocate of parental involvement in children's lit selection.  I do see what my children read, mostly to have an idea of what they are reading about.  But occasionally I do warn, "That is really violent" to my child who is sensitive or "You need to be a little older to read that" for topics more mature.  

I know some people bristle at even that, but parenting is a difficult path, and this is how I choose to navigate that road.  I don't tell my kids they can  never read something, just that they need to be older. And I do have a child who read The Hunger Games at 11. After flying through the series (and dressing as Katniss for Halloween), she wanted to read Divergent.  It is more

mature (especially in latter books), so I was hesitant, but trusted in her ability to self-censor and her judgment of herself and her interests.   She read Divergent , then lost interest in the follow up books (where things became more mature). She recently expressed a desire to read them again, and I continue to trust her judgment.  

So then people ask, what if she wanted to read Fifty Shades of Gray? She needs to be older. Period. 

What if she wanted to read something with an LGBT character/issue?  This is simply a nonissue for me. She has classmates who are LGBT (whether they are out or not), friends, family. Books today reflect reality in a more brilliantly vivid and accepting way than ever before.  And, again, if such a topic bothers her (which I hope it would not), she should self censor. That is not my place. Period. 
  
What if she wanted to read something that I personally found offensive?  I think it depends on what it is.  
If it is something sexual, it is probably a "read it when you are a bit older". 
If it is illegal (child porn), no. That is an issue of consent and privacy, not censorship.  
If it is violent, I would caution about that and let her decide (she doesn't like violence). 

If it is obscene?  

Good question.  Obscenity varies from person to person.  When I was a child, I knew a woman who was like a grandmother to me. She was kind, loving, and generous. I respected her above all others and valued her opinion as the law.  And she could not say the word "pregnant". She grew up in a different time with a different set of values, and the mere mention of the word was impossible. It was obscene.

So, I guide my children the best I can, knowing that what bothers me may not even register to them.

15 years ago, I taught with some teachers who were horribly offended by Harry

Potter and crossed those books off on the Scholastic Book Order that they sent home. 

Now I think, honestly?  Who is bothered by Harry Potter? Well, According to the ALA Office for Intellectual Freedom, the Harry Potter series was the most frequently challenged book in libraries in the 2000-2009 decade.   

Today, though, it seems most challenged books are due to either religion or sex. 

One of my favorite books of all time is The Librarian of Basra. It is the true story of a librarian who saves books, many ancient or sacred, during the war in Iraq.  And people wanted it removed from libraries because it was "violent" and promoted "the Koran and praying to Mohammed". This is a book I have read to my children again and again. The librarian risks her life for books and freedom and knowledge. And she wins.  The books are saved, in spite of war and bombs and flame, and it unites her communities. How is that dangerous? Powerful? Yes. Dangerous? Only to tyrants. 

I my children to grow up in a world where And Tango Makes Three is a fun, sweet,cute book and nobody raises a stink about the fact that the penguins are the same gender. I want my children to read I am Jazz and marvel at Jazz's strength and fortitude, not clutch their pearls at the LGBT aspect of it. People are LGBT; moving right along. 

At the same time, I am in a public school library, so it is a bit different from a public library itself.  Some books do not fit in the mission and focus of the school library (which shapes the collection and the books I purchase), so, no, my library does not have Fifty Shades of Gray.  But the public library in town does, and that is as it should be.

And yes, we have Twilight. Don't think it is quality 
literature? That is not important. My library is here to create lifelong readers.  And if people want to read about sparkly vampires (which, based on sales and circulation data, they clearly do), then I am happy to help them. 

Do we have the Walking Dead graphic novels? You bet!  I can't keep them on the shelves. The kids want to read them! Are the pictures creepy and gross? At times. I would not ever read a book about a zombie, much less an illustrated book on zombies.  But the artwork is amazing, the story lines are great, and the students want to read them.

While I call my students "my kids", they are not, in fact, my children, so it is not my place to censor their reading. Period. I am here to guard their access to information.  

And so I have my Banned Books Week display up for all to see.  A few kids have asked about it, and I am happy to talk about why it is important to have access to literature.  

And I am hosting a school wide Banned Books Bingo. (Spoiler

alert: Mine is The Librarian of Basra)

And I carry on the good fight.  Talking about books and reading and intellectual freedom. Buying books. Promoting reading. Encouraging students to self censor. (Don't like it? Don't read it.) Discussing why things have been challenged in the past, and why that is important. 

It is an important discussion why Huck Finn is a challenging read, that stabs at the heart of America and many of the issues it still struggles with.  We need to talk about why one can't just remove the N-word from the book to try to soften that blow, that reality.   

It is important that students have access to the information they need: accurate, current, unbiased information. 

It is important that we not forget that in the past people did pile books up and burn them. (And unfortunately still do. In America.) It is essential to realize that one can still be killed for owning certain books in parts of the world today.

And lest Western arrogance cloud our eyes, it is crucial to realize that the Chicago Public School system recently talked of removing Persepolis from the

summer reading list and pulling it from the library, with planned confiscations that drew national attention and the focus of the mayor.  Why? Because the book deals with issues like war, growing up, totalitarian regimes, and a "brief sequence depicting torture in Iran, including a man urinating on a torture victim."  The students reading Persepolis are the same ones who must grapple with the realities of Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay.These are issues that are important and real. Painful, but important. 


It feels odd to say I celebrate banned books week, because it is less a celebration and more a reflection.  
A call to see what is happening. 
A rallying cry for intellectual freedom. 
A view of what we have come through and how important it is to protect the freedom we have. 

As a kid, I worried about Salman Rushdie. His family. His well-being. His life.  I feared for him (though I barely knew who he was) and wondered at the disguises he must wear and the fear he must shoulder.  I suppose my young heart thought that as an adult, the world would have moved past that sort of judgment, shame, and censorship. 

Apparently not. 

Losing Anonymity, Finding Purpose

I am a really private person.  I am an extreme introvert.  (Also, I'm a Ravenclaw) 

My comfort zone is well defined and gives me strength. The thing is, many people don't realize these things about me.  

Several years ago, I had students in my psychology class take a Myers Briggs typology test. It indicated (as it has every single time I have ever taken the test, consistently over a 25 year span) that I am deeply an ISTJ. My students, however, were willing to go to war with me over whether I am an I or an E, that is, an introvert or an extrovert.  

Which led to a great conversation for a psychology class about the fact that in my professional life, I appear to be an extrovert.  I can be talkative, passionate, unyielding, loud, bold, and entertaining. But in my personal life, I am quiet, thoughtful (though still unyielding), reserved, and inwardly focused.  I value solitude, anonymity, and silence. I am intensely private.

When we moved to our current area, we came from a metropolitan area of over 350,000. I could go to Walgreens (10 to choose from! all open 24 hours!) and likely not see anyone I knew. But the town I work in, where my schools are, is just the opposite. 900 students K-12. One town of just over 700 residents, another of just over 600, a third with around 2,000.  

Anonymity is a thing of the past.

Working with high school students mostly, it was still a bit preserved.  They are happy to duck around a shelf to protect their own privacy in public or just give a polite wave as they drive down the road. 

But elementary is an entirely different ball game. I went into a local gas station yesterday and was greeted happily by three different students, one who explained she was with her grandmother, and one who gave me a hug.  A hug! In the gas station!

And it was great.

In a second grade classroom the other day I asked who could guess what my job is.  (I had mentioned my title and a few of my duties on the previous visit, so I was just checking for recall). Four different kids called out "You read books to kids!"

And it really hit me that reading books to kids is a part of what I do, and it is an important part. Maybe one of the most important parts. 

I can still remember being read Tailypo as an elementary kid and having a delicious terror and thrill all mixed together until I memorized the book. It was a scary book I would never ever have read on my own.  

I can very clearly remember years later being read "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God" and having such a vivid idea of the way words can be used to persuade, to move, to influence. 

I just spoke with a teacher who said she is reading a book to her kids, and they are loving it. "They would sit there all day and listen if they could!"

Many times I have students call out, "Read it again!" And if there is time, I do. 

I grew up being read to.  It was important in my family, so it was prioritized.  And I recognize very profoundly that the ability to prioritize that is a product of many types of privilege: socio-economic, educational, occupational.

I read to my children, and now that they are older, I readily check out audiobooks for them (Yay! for Overdrive through my public library!)  so that while they are playing with LEGOs or action figures, they are being read to. (They spent the summer reading through the entire Harry Potter series and are now on the Percy Jackson series. ) 

But to make that happen, I check out books on Overdrive and use our WiFi to upload them to an old smart phone I no longer use (a Samsung Galaxy S4, still new enough to use Overdrive). 

And that takes time. Time for a person to be able to go into the online system, find the book, download it, or place it on hold if it isn't available.  

And it takes money. We live in an unincorporated part of the city, so we pay the tax equivalency to access the public library.  I am happy to support the library, but I fully recognize many people could not afford to do this. Also, I pay for WiFi. (We live in the boonies, so we have satellite internet which is far from inexpensive.)  And I have a new (not cheap) phone that frees up another (older, but by no means old) for my children's recreational use. 

And it takes knowing that the resource exists, finding out how to use it, and troubleshooting when it doesn't work exactly as planned. 

All of these are things that in today's world, today's economy, my local economy, many people do not have access to.  Time. Money. Resources. 

So, I step into that gap.  I read to kids. I get to see their eyes light up and hear their laughs or groans. I see the light bulbs go on over their heads when they figure out the trick or twist or joke.  

And they now know me as the person who reads to them. I do lots of other things, but first graders neither know nor care about grants, purchase orders, circulation statistics, curriculum alignment, footfall tracking, weeding, or technical support. They know and care that I show up in their class with a fun book and read to them. 

I now have no anonymity. My public life has no privacy. I get hugs in the gas station. I am introduced to grandparents and talked about from two aisles over. I get vigorously waved to in hallway at school and in The Dollar Tree.

And I love it. 

I read to kids.  

I am kind of a big deal. 

Beekle!

Today I got to do something I don't often have the pleasure of doing: I read to a classroom of kids.  Elementary kids, to be exact.

Full disclosure: I love reading aloud.  
I read to my kids.  
I read to my students when I was in the English classroom. 
I occasionally read out loud to myself.  
When I was in 4th grade I volunteered to read aloud to the class. Yes, to my own class.  (I loved it.  The other students? I am not sure they were crazy about it. )

I really love the feel of the words, the expression it can bring, the effect it has, the sounds. 

I also love being read to.  I am a sucker for audiobooks. If I am going to spend money on a book, it is typically an audiobook (often because the library doesn't have the book on audio, but that is another day's discussion). 

So, when I became the librarian for the district, which includes a high school, a middle school, and two elementaries, I always hoped I could get back to reading aloud. 

When I graduated from college, I briefly (5 months) clerked at the public library in Bradley, Illinois, and I was able to talk the director into letting me run a children's story time.

But I have spent the last 19 years dealing almost exclusively with high school, which is a tough crowd for "let me read to you".  

So at the beginning of the school year, I suggested it to the elementary teachers, they were very gracious in accepting the idea, and we were on our way!

Beekle by Dan Santat
© Dan Santat

Today was the inaugural voyage, and I had a blast!

I read The Adventures of Beekle, the Unimaginary Friend. 

It is such a beautiful book. Poignant, powerful, honest.  And it is also funny.  Heck, the second graders could barely contain themselves when they realized you could see Beekle's butt. 

Beekle's Butt!
© Dan Santat

I read to five different classes from kindergarten to fourth grade and had a ton of fun. 

Everyone loved guessing what Beekle actually was and each class had different ideas. ("A pillow!"  "A snowman!" "A ghost!" "The king of ghosts!"  "Baby Baymax!")

 Each class noticed different things. ("The panda is made of crystal!" "That dragon looks like candy!" "That guy is the shape of a puzzle piece!")

They laughed and smiled.  They felt sad for Beekle when he was alone and confessed to, like some characters in the book, occasionally needing nap ("I could take a nap right now!")

The kids made predictions. 
They extrapolated. 
They noticed. 
They listened. 

Everyone wanted him to have a friend. Almost everyone readily acknowledged that they too had an imaginary friend (at one point or another). 

Books really do bring people together.  With an age range of five years (and a five years that makes a huge difference), this book crossed the divide and gave me the chance to interact with some great young people, sharing a good story and a few laughs. 

But more than that, if gave me a way to get in the classroom, meet the kids, and share a book with them. 

And that is a wonderful feeling. 

Mood Swings

I arrived  at school this morning with, unbeknownst to me, cheddar cheese on my forehead. 

It was not my proudest moment. 

This morning at my house had been chaotic, as Friday school mornings can be with 4 people and all the complications getting ready can bring. 

I had gotten everyone else ready, lunches packed, backpacks on, homework signed, gym shoes packed, lunch money distributed. All was finally well, and I picked up my breakfast Hot Pocket (ham and cheese) to leave.  Someone was walking in, I was walking out, we collided, the Hot Pocket ended up in the grass, someone was crying (not me), and the day began.  

I got to school and had a disorganized assortment of bags (computer bag, lunch bag, bag of books) to wrestle with. 

Then someone was parked in my parking spot. 

A teacher saw me in my frazzled state and quietly said, "You have something on your forehead." 

Yes, it was Hot Pocket cheese. Apparently it had exploded as it fell. 

Lovely. 

I wiped it off, went into the library, and tried to focus on turning this wildness around. 

At that point, a student said, "Can you think of another book like this one?" I thought about it, had a couple in mind, and went to find the book I was looking for.  

Then he said, "I haven't read a book in two years.  But I read this one in a week. It's pretty weird." 

And that took my breath away.

As I thought of it, I had never seen him in the library for anything other than to make up a test.  

He has been there last week for media center orientation and checked out a book. He said that he just opened it up to start reading it, then noticed he was 50 pages in. Before he knew it, he had read the whole thing. 

And he wanted another book. 

Just like that, my lousy exploding-Hot-Pocket-parking-space-taken-disorganized-trying-to-not-be-late morning was turned around. 

I firmly believe that there is a book for every reader.

Some people will read anything, including the cereal box. Others have a narrow vision of what they want to give their time to. Some people prefer reading with their eyes, others with their ears or fingers. Some people want a challenge, others want a relaxing break from complexity. Some want something new, others read the same book again and again.

But there is a book for every reader. 

This morning, one of my students discovered that; I got to be reminded of it.

All in all, it was a really great morning.  

Knowing When to Walk Away

Yesterday I made a really difficult decision: I decided to stop reading  a book. 

Now, that isn't all that rare.  I have a personal "3 chapters" policy.  If I am unsure about a book that I am reading for my own enjoyment, I give it 3 chapters. At that point, I give myself the freedom to set it aside and move on. I spent a lot of years slogging through stuff I didn't like and being weighed down by guilt, so this is a really freeing policy.  

There is a book for every reader, and every book has a reader, but that doesn't mean every book is for every reader.  

Some books or writers are just not my cup of tea.  I move on. No problemo. 

That isn't what happened yesterday. 

image courtesy of Amazon.com

I have been reading Challenger Deep by Neal Shusterman, winner of the National Book Award for Young People's Literature.  The book is so incredibly powerful. Beautiful. Mysterious.  Terrifying at times, amusing at others. 
and let me say, it is an amazing book. I am not just saying that, it really is. 

In some ways, it reminded me of Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury in that for quite a bit I was unsure who people were and what was actually happening, then when I realized, it hit me right between the eyes. 

Challenger Deep is like that.  There are times I was confused, but I stuck with it, and when I finally realized what was actually happening it legitimately took by breath away.  I stopped reading for  a moment just to consider all that was happening and all that it meant.   

And then I became deeply uncomfortable.  

But that, in and of itself, is not a bad thing.  

At the risk of being mildly spoiler-ish, the book deals with mental illness. (I knew that, at least superficially, before starting).  

However, it is so real, so raw, so personal, that it was very unsettling.   Which, let's be honest, is really the point.  And it is what gives Challenger Deep its power.  That personal connection, the insight and depth into a world that may be very unrelatable.  

Or it could be very, very relatable.  

Yesterday, while reading, there was a passage in which I found my heart racing and my mind so disquieted that I had to set the book aside.  

Not just for a minute or five, but for a while.  

I am not sure when I will go back to the book. If ever.

And that is a difficult decision for me to make, not one I take lightly. 

But here is the thing, I think that in our lives, each of us (doctor or otherwise) is called to do no harm, and that includes to ourselves. We need to know ourselves and know our limits. And, in a lot of ways, that means respecting those limits and knowing when to take a break or walk away entirely. 

I have read all of the  Game of Thrones books

image courtesy of Amazon.com

, but I have seen none of the shows.  This is a 100% conscious decision (we own all of them on blu-ray) because I know that I personally can't watch movies/performances/shows where there is violence against women. Especially sexual violence.  Especially gratuitous.  And much has been written about Game of Thrones/HBO and their chronic disrespect for women, objectification of women, and willingness to use violence against women as a ratings tool. I will not stand for it, so I don't watch it.

I made that decision out of respect for myself, my sensibilities, and knowing what I can and can't tolerate.  

And those limits are different for everyone. 

Everyone has their limits and issues, whether they know them or not, and hopefully if those are reached we all realize the beauty in "do no harm" and respect our limits enough to actually obey them. 

With Challenger Deep, I ran abruptly into one and struggled with how to deal with it.  

I personally know many people who have been affected by mental illness.  Some have risen above it, others not.  All have struggled, some more deeply than others.  

To watch the people you know and love struggle is difficult, I knew that. 

To experience a walk through that mental illness in such a  profound and personal way as in Challenger Deep was so very unsettling that I had to recognize a limit, respect it, and back away from it. 

Let me say this: I know 100% that this is an issue of privilege.  I have the privilege of being able to take a step away from mental illness, catch my breath, and decide when, if ever, I step back in. I completely understand that those in the depths of the battle do not have this privilege which I experience. 

And, in some ways, it is the reason I am fairly sure I will eventually finish Challenger Deep.  I need to know what happens. I need to continue the journey. I need to feel the disquiet and know that there is still life and perhaps hope and possibly healing. 

But today is not the day for that.  Perhaps it is because I am tired or stressed out. Maybe it is the constant onslaught of negativity from the news and election cycle that has my entire self on edge. I don't know. I just know that I need to take a break from the book, and I need to be kind enough to myself to recognize that and obey it. 

When tackling difficult issues and texts, I think it can be important to know your limits and know when to walk away, even if you will eventually venture back. 

Reading for Fun and Profit

I have just gotten back from a wonderfully busy summer.  I spent a good deal of time teaching summer school, a nice time traveling to see friends and hosting visiting family, and getting to enjoy the always elusive time to read for fun.

Reading for fun is a tricky

business for me. There is the always expanding "To Be Read" (TBR) pile that would take several lifetimes to accomplish.  There are the books I feel like I need to read because they are award winners (The Goldfinch, I am looking at you), books I slog through because I started them and keep thinking they must get better at some point (1Q84, that was 30 hours of my life I gave

you!) and books I really do need to read to make me better at readers advisory or simply knowledge of the world.  


I spent a lot of the summer on that third group.  I tried to work my way through the Abe Lincoln Award nominees for 2017 and got through quite a lot of them.   

• 100 Sideways Miles (Great book. An interesting perspective and vision)
• Bone Gap (Amazing! Powerfully imaginative and captivating.)
• Caged Warrior (A book I never would have just picked up but told a great story)
• A Court of Thorns and Roses (Elves! Romance! Battles! Mystery!  It has it all!)
• Fake ID (The best surprise of the summer. A
  
  book I never would have chosen, but am so glad I did.  A wonderful story, thought provoking, and intriguing characters.)
• I am Malala (It's Malala. How can you go wrong? What a life! What a
  
   woman!)
• Red Queen (A neat twist on the dystopian trend. A mixture of Hunger Games and Allegiant, while still being unique. )
• Grave Mercy (currently reading)
  

But it was my summer, and my free time, so I took a few detours through things I simply wanted to read: Red Rising, Shadow and Bone, H is for Hawk, and Half of a Yellow Sun (Holy cow, what an amazing book).

The summer school students I teach are almost exclusively international students from South Korea.  They are long term students who come in 8th

grade and stay until the end of college.  Studying in the US is less a cultural exchange and more an immersion into English and a pursuit of fluency and an American education.  This inevitably brings up the question of how to improve their English, and I give them the same answer I always do. 

You need to read. In English. For fun. 

You don't have to read Hemingway. Work your way through the Walking Dead.  It can be a

cheesy romance or a the-world-is-ending-we-need-a-teenager-to-save-us dystopian. I don't care.  It just needs to be what you enjoy. 

And they balk at that.  

So they slog through War and Peace when what would really be best for them is The Hunger Games. 

If you have a class that assigns War and Peace, fine. If not, if it is out of your interest and beyond your skill, skip it!  Should you skip it just because it is beyond your skill? Absolutely not! But if you don't care about it, it will suck your energy and love of reading dry.   

I find it easy to preach this message, but hard to live it at times.  

When I pick up the book I should read instead of the one I want, I hear echoes of myself.  "Why in the world are you crawling through Soul Mountain when you want to be eating up the

Court of Myst and Fury?"

So often we make reading into a business venture. What gets the fastest results?  What is my ROI for this book?  The way schools and testing are done today only adds to that.  Read to find the characters, theme, and symbolism.  Sure, there is a time and a place for this, and it is a valuable skill, but sometimes just the right book is a quick romance or a mindless Western. Something to cleanse the palate and the literary soul.   

In light of this, I am redoubling my efforts to avoid book shaming this year--not toward others, because I almost never do that--but toward myself. I should read  Prisoner of Night and Fog, and yes, I will eventually.  But right now, I am going to read what I want, what feels good, what meets my literary needs. 

So I am listening to Cinder.  

And enjoying the heck out of it. 
Guilt free.  

Because there is more to reading than the bottom line, not just for students but adults too.  

The Digital Divide

Librarians often talk about the digital divide. Many people don't have reliable access to the internet. This could be because they don't have a device. This could be because of the cost of access. It could be availability of service.

But in this situation, two things are certain.

1. Most Americans think that everybody has access to the internet.
2. Many people do not actually have reliable access.

Who doesn't have access?
One of the major factors is income. According to the Pew Research Center, Differences in usage vary widely from the poorest Americans (74%) to the most wealthy (95%).

Another aspect is education level.  Those who have less than a high school diploma are less likely to have access (66%) than those who have graduated (76%) and far less than those who have some college (90%) or a college degree (95%).

Of course age is an issue. Those over the age of 65 have internet usage rates of 68% compared to the so called digital natives (18-25) who have a 96% usage rate.

For those who have access, most of this means nothing.  They often don't even give reliable internet access a second thought.  In all honesty, I have been in that camp before, I am ashamed to admit.  I am a person who personally and professionally advocates for access, both in terms of devices and connection. I am an advocate for free Wi-Fi access through libraries.   This is an important issue. But it was one that affected other people. 

Until last Tuesday.

One more piece of data: those who live in rural areas have a 78% usage rate, far lower than those in urban areas (85%).

For the past year and a half, I have lived in the city and recently moved to a house outside of town. It is just under 10 miles away, though definitely out of town.  We were so excited about the move. More bedrooms. Another bathroom! 3 acres of land. Lots of great things!

I switched over the power, started up trash service, put stickers on the mailbox, transferred our mail. 

Then I called Comcast. 

Now, I am no fan of Comcast, but I know when I have to deal with the forces of evil.  

No service. 
So I called Frontier. 
Sure, we can get you service. Your top speed might be able to reach 1mbps. 

I honestly was speechless. 1??  In town my speed was 75. 1 is like dial-up! I doubt you could reliably stream Netflix. 

I looked around for other options. 

One didn't work because of a line of trees. 

One worked but couldn't get it installed until August. August! I can' wait until August to have internet at home.

On and on. 

In the end, I went back to Frontier.  It is being installed today. 

Which brings me to the revelation that I am now a victim of the digital divide.  Not because of age, education, or income but living in a rural area.  When people think of a person who lives in the United States but has no reliable internet access at home, I am not probably the person that comes to mind. 

But I should be. 

Because internet access is not black and white. It isn't a single factor that pushes one across the digital divide. 

And it is important to advocate for access for everyone. It is 2016. Access is an issue of necessity for many people. I use it for work. My husband uses it for work. My kids use it for school. It is problematic to not have access.  

And that is why we need to keep advocating. Keep pushing. Keep talking about it.  

I am fortunate.  I can afford to have a different company install service, however slow. I have access at work. My kids have access at school. We have a public library that has reliable access. We have devices. And it is still an issue. 

I will continue advocating and speaking up. It might jut be much much slower if I have to do it from my connection at home. 

Hamilton: the $10 Founding Father

I am not a person who typically chooses to read non fiction in my free time, so it is a bit odd that I am working my way through an 832 page biography of a founding father. However, I came to Ron Chernow's Alexander Hamilton the same way pretty much everyone has these days: a devotion to Hamilton the Musical.  

Several months ago (a bit late to the game) I heard about Hamilton. Sold out until next year. President Obama had gone to see it. Twice! Mo Willems (author of the Pigeon books for children) drew a response to it. 

Everywhere I turned I kept hearing about this amazing work, so I ordered the soundtrack through interlibrary loan (Yay for reciprocal borrowing!) to see what all the
fuss was about. (I later ended up buying it so that I could both own it and vote with my dollars)

And I was blown away. (no pun intended)

The story of the life of Alexander Hamilton from orphaned immigrant to founding father to "that guy who got killed in a duel with Aaron Burr", the musical is so much more.

It is brilliantly written. Allusions to literature, music across genres (with a heavy emphasis on rap and hip-hop), motifs that thread through the work in such subtle ways that a listener rarely notices the puns, double meanings, hints, and foreshadowing. It is simply an intelligent masterpiece. 

So I began reading about the  musical which took two paths. 

First, I started in on the work that inspired the musical: Ron Chernow's biography Alexander Hamilton. It is a long book, filled with rich detail, vivid descriptions, and more information about the founding of America than most people could imagine. I now know more about the XYZ affair, the founding of the US Treasury, Washington's administration, the Adams administration, and the Hamiltonian vs Jeffersonian conflict than I ever thought possible. And for a fiction aficionado, it can be a bit heavy

at times.  I alternated the book with the musical, trying not to listen to any point past where I had read.  The second half of the musical begins with Jefferson's return from France to become Secretary of State, so I had a long time to enjoy disc 1. 

As I plowed through the book  I began wondering about the writer of the musical, which took me down my second path: finding out all I could about Lin-Manuel Miranda, the librettist of the musical. And what a man to know about! He had been an English teacher, but always with a heart for music, literature, and performing. The entire Hamilton musical was born from a single song he wrote after reading Chernow's book. Miranda talks about the beauty of Hamilton's life being that he was a self-made man, built on the strength of his skill with words. This clip (which has a salty word or two, just FYI) is that first performance of what would become the opening song to Hamilton.  

Then the stories of the cast. Anthony Ramos, who plays but John Laurens and Phillip Hamilton, auditioned for what he thought was a talent show and didn't even know it was for Broadway. What a great story, right? 

How about Okieriete Onaodowan who had played football in high school, was sidelined with an injury, and ended up as a stagehand where he realized he loved acting. How amazing!

Daveed Diggs (Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson) before Hamilton had graduated from Brown but was living off unemployment and sleeping in the subway. Amazing!

Hamilton was a self educated man, both brilliant and prolific with words. 

Chernow's work is breathtaking in its scope and powerful in its message.

Miranda was inspired by it to write one song that grew into one musical that has taken Broadway by storm, won a Grammy, and will likely be showered with Tony awards. He then was asked to write the music for the cantina scene in Star Wars: The Force Awakens and is working on the songs for Moana, the next Disney movie.  

Plus, how can you not love anything that contains the line "We rendezvous with Rochambeau, consolidate their gifts"?

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go stand in line for tickets, since Hamilton will be in Chicago in September.