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Tag: first2know

  • What The Library Means to Me: Catie Sutherland

    By: Barry Ernest

    The year is 1967.

    Lyndon B. Johnson is president. Green Bay wins Super Bowl I. Three astronauts die in a launch-pad fire. Expo 67 opens in Montreal. The 25th Amendment is ratified. Big Macs make the scene. The “enemy is losing” in Vietnam, we’re told. The Public Broadcasting Act is signed. Human Be-Ins dot the landscape. Live satellite TV begins. Roger Ebert debuts as a film critic.

    Two-year-old Catie Bond, hand-in-hand with her mom, enters the public library on Walnut Street in downtown Harrisburg. It is her first ever visit to such a place.

    “I remember the library was where my sister and I could get our hands on books and come for various children’s programs,” says Catie today. “The downtown library was the only one open in Harrisburg at that time.”

    Two other significant yet related events occurred in that same year.

    On a national level, the Office of Intellectual Freedom was created as an outgrowth of the American Library Association. The office was charged with educating librarians, their staff, and the public about the merits of being able to seek knowledge and ideas without restriction. On the local scene, the downtown library, a solo staple since 1914, expanded with three new branches: Harrisburg Uptown, Kline Village, and Colonial Park.

    Both of those actions will have an impact on Catie’s mom… and eventually on Catie herself.

    “Our family started to go to the Colonial Park Library after it opened in 1967,” Catie recalls. “Mom liked that someone could get groceries at the plaza as well as library books at the library.”

    That was when the Colonial Park Library and the mall had rubber mats for a floor, which Catie’s mom felt reasonable since kids wouldn’t be hurt if they fell.

    Catie became the proud holder of her very own library card. She routinely searched through those large metal card-catalogue cabinets to find Trixie Beldon, the Bobbsey Twins, and many other volumes.

    She tells the story that only a few years after introducing Catie to the joys of reading, her mom would become a circulation assistant at the Harrisburg Uptown Library and the Kline Village branch.

    But that’s not all.

    “My paternal grandmother, Eleanor Smith, studied library science at Carnegie Tech and got her degree,” Catie said. “She moved to New York City and worked for the New York City Public Library in the late 1920s and the early 1930s.” In 1931, Eleanor married Julian Bond, who also studied at Carnegie Tech, earning a degree in engineering. The couple then moved to Yorktown Heights, NY, where Eleanor worked for the John C. Hart Library.

    That was where they became familiar with the name Halsey William Wilson. For those unfamiliar, Wilson was a noted publisher from Croton Heights, NY, and the creator of such reference essentials as the Readers’ Guide, the Cumulative Book Index, and the Book Review Digest. He was once labeled as one of the 100 most important leaders of the 20th century. He also had the unusual but charitable habit of giving parcels of land to librarians for free.

    “My grandparents built a garage on the land they were given and lived in it while they built a house,” Catie explained. Her grandfather, Julian, was an architect and thus designed their future home.

    Catie’s library lineage doesn’t stop there.

    “My great aunt, Virginia Keltz, who was Eleanor’s sister, was also a librarian in Detroit,” Catie added. “My maternal great aunt, Betty Donnelly, was a librarian in Newcastle on the Tyne in England. And my uncle, Brian Bond, worked as a children’s librarian in North Bend, Oregon.”

    You might say a taste for books and the places where they are archived was a major part of the family’s DNA. This is why it was only natural that Catie, who became Catie Sutherland upon marriage, went to work at the East Shore Area Library, its newly acquired name, after relocating in 1977 to its current home on property adjacent to the Colonial Park Plaza.

    She’s been there for 31 years.

     “I started working for the library in February 1994,” she said. “I worked as a ‘page’ where I put books away and shelved books.” Three decades later, she now holds the position of Public Services Assistant. As the title suggests, she is a go-to guide for all-things library. She is a source of assistance to those who work at the library, as well as the many who visit it daily.

    Catie doesn’t talk much about her heritage. In fact, few are aware of her family line and its long-standing connection to various libraries. When you ask Catie what the library means to her, you get a humble response.

    “I provide service and help our members get answers to their questions and generally help people out.”

    More than that, the library has presented her with a means of following in the footsteps forged by her ancestors. Toward that end, it has become a way of encouraging others to seek knowledge and ideas without restriction. It has afforded Catie the opportunity to deal personally with those who, just as her mom once did, take their children by the hand and lead them, often for the very first time, into their public library.

  • LGBTQ+ School Age Books

    With June being pride month we at The Library wanted to share some of the school age books we love!

    Flower Girl – written by Amy Bloom; illustrated by Jameela Wahlgren.

    A Song for Nolan – written by Rushie Ellenwood ; illustrated by Sally Chen.

    Calvin – written by JR and Vanessa Ford; illustrated by Kayla Harren.

    Except When They Don’t – words by Laura Gehl; pictures by Joshua Heinsz.

    My Two Dads – written by Claudia Harrington; illustrated by Zoe Persico.

    My Two Moms – written by Claudia Harrington; illustrated by Zoe Persico.

    Jacob’s School Play: Starring He, She, and They – written by Ian & Sarah Hoffman; illustrated by Chris Case.

    The Wishing Flower – written by A.J. Irving; illustrated by Kip Alizadeh.

    Payden’s Pronoun Party – written by Blue Jaryn; Illustrated by Xochitl Cornejo

    Molly’s Tuxedo – words by Vicki Johnson; pictures by Gillian Reid.

    The Rainbow Parade: A Celebration of LGBTQIA+ Identities and Allies – written by Shane Jordan and Rick Hendrix; illustrated by Jieting Chen.

    My sister, Daisy – written by Adria Karlsson; illustrations by Linus Curci.

    What Are Your Words?: A Book About Pronouns – written by Katherine Locke; illustrated by Anne Passchier.

    Mama and Mommy and Me in the Middle – written by Nina LaCour; illustrated by Kaylani Juanita.

    Julián is a Mermaid – written by Jessica Love.

    Téo’s Tutu – written by Maryann Jacob Macias; illustrated by Alea Marley.

    A Costume for Charly – written by CK Malone; illustrated by Alejandra Barajas.

    My Moms Love Me – written by Anna Membrino; illustrated by Joy Hwang Ruiz.

    My Guncle and Me – written by Jonathan Merritt; illustrated by Joanna Carillo.

    The Spectacular Suit – written by Kat Patrick; illustrated by Hayley Wells.

    Dolls and Trucks Are for Everyone – written by Robb Pearlman; illustrated by Eda Kaban.

    Pink is for Boys – written by Robb Pearlman; illustrated by Eda Kaban.

    Sam is My Sister – written by Ashley Rhodes-Courter; illustrated by MacKenzie Haley.

    Marley’s Pride – written by Joëlle Retener; illustrated by DeAnn Wiley.

    Rainbow Boy – written by Taylor Rouanzion; illustrated by Stacey Chomiak.

    My Friends and Me – written by Stephanie Stansbie; illustrated by Katy Halford.

    The Good Hair Day – written by Christian Trimmer; illustrated by J Yang.

    Ari Arranges Everything – written and illustrated by Katie Vernon.

    Mighty Red Riding Hood: A Fairly Queer Tale – written by Wallace West.

    Not He or She, I’m Me – written by A.M. Wild; illustrated by Kah Yangni.

    Love, Violet – by Charlotte Sullivan Wild; illustrated by Charlene Chua. 

    Phoenix Gets Greater – written by Marty Wilson-Trudeau with Phoenix Wilson; illustrated by Megan Kyak-Monteith.

    Bobby and the Big Valentine – words by Timmy Woitas; illustrations by Addy Rivera Sonda.

  • Asian Pacific American Heritage Month: Childhood Stories

    By: Lexi Plumley

    As a Filipino American, there weren’t a lot of Filipino children’s books. There were books that had our folk tales and certain ghost stories, but they weren’t for children. Aunties and uncles would tell you these stories, grandparents would tell you these stories verbally, but there weren’t really any, physical picture books when I was growing up in the 90s. I do remember there were two instances where I ended up reading the same book during different times in my life.

    I don’t think there was a single physical book that I ever got to read throughout my entire childhood that had to do with anything of Asian descent. Everything was white or black. I read a lot of black children’s stories growing up, but I didn’t get to read anything whatsoever from my Filipino heritage. [Storytelling] was done through family members or other Filipino people who also had the same type of stories, just told differently. Again, they’re all folk tales from our culture.

    I was in fifth grade and heard somebody read this book called, Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes by Eleanor Coerr. It’s a Japanese children’s book about the events that happened in Hiroshima, where a bunch of kids who had radiation poisoning were in hospitals. There are a lot of terrible things [in the story], but it was painted very beautifully. The book is about a girl who got very, very sick. In Japanese culture, if you make a thousand paper cranes, you get to make a wish. I remember reading that when I was in fifth grade, and I thought the story was wonderful. It was the first time I’d seen an Asian person in a book. I was like, “This is wild!”

    In seventh grade, in junior high, I took a creative writing class, and they read the exact same book. As we were reading the book and learning the history about those events, we were supposed to make a thousand cranes to then send to Japan. This was to put the cranes at her monument because she was a real person who went through these things. She was trying to make the thousand cranes, but didn’t end up finishing them before she passed on. I think her classmates and things decided to make that monument, and there’s a giant statue of her holding a paper crane in that city.

    Every year for the anniversary of either her death or the events that happened, people bring a bunch of paper cranes to the monument and place them there. That’s what we did as a group of eight 12-year-olds. We made a thousand paper cranes. Our creative writing teacher, Mr. Jacobs, sent them to Japan.

    They [the people of Hiroshima] sent us back a letter and a picture of our cranes sitting at this at the base of the monument. Sadako became my favorite book. It is something that I always suggested to people. When I was a preschool teacher, I read it to my kids even though they were way too young to really understand the gravitas of the book. The fact is that there wasn’t any Asian representation in my class, so as a teacher, so I wanted to present that to the kids. I showed them how to make paper cranes.

    I’ve talked to a lot of other Filipino friends of mine that are all in the same age range. We all read that same book. Sadako is the first Asian book that we ever read growing up, and we’re all in our mid-thirties now.

    I didn’t start really seeing books about Filipino children or Filipino culture until I was in college. I think the first one was the most famous Filipino American children book, Cora Cooks Pancit, by Dorina Lazo Gilmore. I was 18 or 19 at the time.

    I have to look and see where Asian stories are in our library system, because we should have more of those. I’ve seen ones explaining Lunar New Year, but there should be more books, more children’s books, especially for Filipino Americans. I feel like we have a lot more Chinese, Japanese, and Thailand books, and ones from India too. We’re lacking in the Filipino department, and it makes me sad.

    By: Maria Lagasca

    I’m going to tell you the first book where I felt seen as not only an Asian girl, but an Asian girl who didn’t speak English very well. English is not my first language. It’s always been a struggle for me. The first book I ever read, and still read once a year, is called In the Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson by Bette Bao Lord. It’s a little chapter book. On the cover, at the top, is a picture of Jackie Robinson, and at the bottom is a little Asian girl listening to a baseball game on the radio.

    It’s a really good book. It’s set after World War 2, and he girl, named  Shirley Temple Wong,  is in middle school. She immigrates to Brooklyn, New York from China, and she does not speak English very well. On top of that, she doesn’t have a support system besides the people in her classroom.

    Shirley doesn’t have formal instruction in English. She learns from the people around her. She struggles to fit in and deal with some of the stereotypes and some of the economic stress that most immigrants face. And yeah, she’s sassy! That’s what I loved about her. She’s bullied, but one thing she knew was to stick up for herself. She didn’t need English for that.  

    She ends up befriending and forgiving the bully. I don’t know. In the Asian culture, you don’t bow down. I was raised to be proud of who I was and to never be fearful, even though I was [afraid], so the idea of forgiving a bully was very new to me. Shirley ends up being friends with the bully, and they end up playing baseball.

    Another thing I liked about her was that she was a tomboy. She ended up playing baseball, which is what I did. I had two brothers. I got their hand-me-downs. I did whatever my brothers did, and I ended up gravitating towards sports. She made me feel very seen, and the mini stories of her parents not being able to navigate the grocery store and her having to go with her mom to translate. She doesn’t know English very well, but she’s the hope for her family. It’s like a burden for her. It’s something I think you don’t understand until you’re a grown up. When you get to high school, you start wondering, “How long am I gonna do this? How long am I gonna be my parents’ translator? How long am I gonna be taking care of them? When am I able to live my life outside of this home?” I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just that your family becomes dependent on you, and it turns into this forever expectation. It becomes this idea of no “self,” which is relevant in Asian culture. You’re raised to give up the “self.”

    Go be a doctor, be a lawyer, be a nurse, and then you have to come back and give it all to your family.  It’s complex. Shirley navigated all that, and I don’t think I or anybody around me could have explained it better. I still struggle to explain it without that book.

    In the midst of everything, Shirley looks up to Jackie Robinson, knowing his struggles. She starts realizing she’s come to The US with the dream that this is a better life, that it’s all going to be fairy tales and it’s perfect. Then she comes to realize that while she’s navigating her identity, these other people who are skilled, like the best baseball player at that time, were judged by the color of their skin.

    Shirley realizes that it’s not just immigrants going through the struggles of acceptance.  I grew up in a predominantly African American neighborhood, and the people that accepted me the most were the were the Pakistani kids and the black kids, not even my own Asian people. I think it’s because I’m darker and my family’s darker.

    I think that my family was considered poor, so they deemed us lower class. All the other families were like, “Don’t hang out with anybody lower class than you.” Lower class means having less money, being darker, or your parents have blue collar jobs. I was accepted most by the Southeast Asians, the ones who were dark skinned, and my African American community all throughout high school.

    It helped me realize how my struggle is sometimes minimal compared to others. I know I’m not the only one. Growing up, you look up to people that are just fantastic. I remember Michelle Kwan, probably the first Asian icon of the US. Everybody gravitated towards Michelle Kwan. And I gravitated toward her because I grew up figure skating. My mom wanted me to be either a nurse, a lawyer, or Michelle Kwan.