July 16, 2007: What’s Eating Donutbuzz

As I write this, I’m not sure if I’m going to post it. I do that. I’ll type and type and then after I read what I’ve typed I decide against posting the entry. Sometimes, I save the post. Many times--if not most of the time--I’ll delete the post. You may question my deleting a post. What’s the meaning of writing, after all, if you fail to record it? It’s a legitimate question with a simple answer: It’s not always the record of the writing but rather the process itself that’s most therapeutic for me. And sometimes silence speaks volumes, too.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my dad the last couple weeks. I always think of my dad, and not a day has passed since his death that I haven’t. But I’ve really been dwelling on his passing. It’s consuming me. Other than my friends who may read this, I don’t know if anyone who reads this understands exactly what happened to my dad before he died. I’m not speaking about his illness. No, I’m talking about the mean-spiritedness of some folks who decided to give my father the proverbial nasty shove out of the door after he had tirelessly devoted nearly a quarter of a century of his working life to improving the quality of West Virginia libraries.

The first thing you need to know is that when my dad arrived here that the West Virginia library system was in great need of improvement and funds. Now I realize that I’m incredibly biased here, but if you don’t believe me, then read this piece, which is from the West Virginia Library Commission’s own website. The WVLC hired my father, and the rest, as they say, is history. Thanks to the efforts of my father and the staff he led, West Virginia soon ranked near the top of the nation in per capita funding for its libraries.

I’m not exaggerating:

Inadequate funding, lack of citizen interest, poor economic and political conditions, and a weak state library commission are all reasons for the slow growth of public libraries in West Virginia. In the 1970s, available federal funding dramatically aided library development. Additionally, a dynamic state library commission staff, under the leadership of Frederic J. Glazer, pressed forward with an ambitious campaign of public library development and with savvy political shrewdness significantly boosted the state per capita grants-in-aid library funding.

That’s right folks. And, again, those aren’t my sentiments. They’re from the WVLC’s own website that I mentioned earlier.

What the history doesn’t mention is that my dad also helped in the development of the “carousel” library that allowed rural communities to have access to reading and audio-visual materials, that he was part of the team that designed the “book burst” logo still in use for the WVLC, or, of course, that after his “ambitious campaign of public library development” that West Virginia ranked near the top of all fifty states in per capita funding.

Now think about this. We live in a state that’s constantly ridiculed for its stereotype of ignorant hillbillies and uneducated rednecks. In fact, while I was having a discussion about West Virginia with someone I met the other day, he joked about how I couldn’t possibly be from this state because I had all my teeth. And we were on the fourth floor of the library here. Again, I’m not exaggerating this. This person was not a native and had many kind things to say about our community, but he still accepted certain disparaging myths about us West Virginians. He knew about our politics. He spoke about Governor Joe Manchin, whom he considered a great politician who would appoint himself to succeed Senator Robert Byrd. Had I asked him if he were aware that West Virginia ranked higher in library funding than most of the other states, he probably wouldn’t have known that. That’s because when most folks consider West Virginia, they don’t think about the value we place on our libraries; they consider our poverty or the negative views that we’re a bunch of toothless, banjo-picking idiots. But when my dad directed the state’s libraries, nothing could be farther from the truth. Think about that.

Of course, my dad knew about the internet before I did. It was his job to ensure everyone’s access to libraries, and the internet presented an incredible opportunity to bring information to the people. Everyone has a “MySpace” page now, but in 1972, many communities in West Virginia lacked access to basic reading materials. By 1996, however, my dad was looking to take West Virginia libraries global.

Then the WVLC fired my dad. Why? We’ll never know their real reason. But I do know this: West Virginia deserved better. And so did my dad.