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Incident at the Library A woman walked into Peachtree City’s wondrous new library last week and went, as the saying goes, ballistic. If you are a patron of that temple of knowledge you know that nearly everyone involved with its planning, construction, furnishing, and reshelving is proud of the long-awaited results. Its high tech glass and metal design combines well with old-timey comforts like a fireplace (albeit gas-fired), easy chairs, and tables at just the right height. Computer stations pop up everywhere. There are even a couple of phone booths, but there is no telephone in either one. They appear to be empty. They are. That’s because most people bring their own phones and just need a place where they can talk without disturbing others. Several areas have glass roofs; windows are plentiful, allowing for light and woodsy daytime vistas. Local art brings color to the inside walls. The floors that get the highest traffic are covered in soft carpet squares to keep the noise down. The entire floor plan allows observation from the central desk. Years ago I borrowed an idea from the late Carl Sagan, a man almost possessed by books and collections of books: libraries. In Cosmos, published in 1980, he wrote: “Every one of your hundred trillion cells contains a complete library of instructions on how to make every part of you and….everything your body knows how to do on its own….how to sneeze, how to recognize patterns, how to digest an apple, an immensely complicated process….” If we had to think our way through synthesizing the enzymes to eat an apple, we’d probably starve before we were done, he said. When simple existence overloaded our knowledge bank on the genetic level, and our environment was changing so fast that our precoded genetic encyclopedia was no longer adequate, “a gene library of 1,000 volumes would not be enough,” Sagan wrote. “That is why we have brains.” The cerebral cortex is that part of the brain that encodes and stores all that we know in cells called neurons. Neurons have perhaps a hundred trillion connections with their neighbors. Sagan: “If written out in English….the equivalent of 20 million books is inside the heads of every one of us.” But the time came, perhaps 10,000 years ago, when we needed to know more than we could conveniently contain in brains. So we learned to stockpile enormous quantities of information outside our bodies. “We are the only species on the planet, so far as we know, to have invented a communal memory stored neither in our genes nor in our brains. “The warehouse of that memory is called the library.” (Imagine what Sagan could have come up with if he’d had a computer.) Back to last week’s incident. One of the most attractive embellishments that was moved into the new library from the old is a glass display case donated by the Endowment Committee of the Cultural Arts of Fayette County. Visible to anyone entering the main door, its exhibit is changed periodically. I remember a stunning collection of Father Christmas figures one December, and another of birds and bird nests in the spring. The current theme is in recognition of Black History Month and includes several black dolls, some quite old, some amusing – but all dignified. There’s a mammy-doll pushing a toy baby coach, a fan commemorating Booker T. Washington, and some books. The person who worked up the display had taken fabric printed like a pieced quilt, and cut to make small colorful doilies under each figurine. I was particularly touched by the photographs. I had never seen photos “framed” like these. The images, in black, gray, and white, of course, are actually on an oval piece of “celluloid,” a card explains, six to 10 inches tall, some decorated with multicolored flowers on the outer edge. Some of the pictures were of children, others of families. The affection among family members and between subject and photographer is evident. I think this would remain one of my most memorable exhibits regardless of the story Librarian M.T. Allen told me: A woman walked into Peachtree City’s new library and flew into a rage. In a moment, the quiet atmosphere exploded, concentration shattered. She hurled words like “racist” and “Uncle Tom,” and generally berated the library staff members for desecrating Black History Month. The city, she said, was guilty of bigotry for having depicted black people in such a derogatory manner. M.T. and the staff were so stunned they did not get her last name. There was no way to reason with her, of course, but they tried to explain that this was the work of a library staffer, and that the objects were on loan from her parents’ antique shop. They were a collection that was obviously cherished by the families who had sold them. The staff member who had put the figures on display came to work that afternoon and was dismayed to learn of the outburst. She was even more shocked when the belligerent woman called her at home that evening and continued her tirade. Several days later, when I talked to her, tears still welled in her eyes. She could not imagine how her figures could be at the center of such anger. The woman said she wouldn’t stop until she contacted all the newspapers and tell community leaders and clergy how Peachtree City’s library was decorated in such a disgusting fashion. You decide. Stop in at the library and see what you think – about the library itself and about the exhibit. And about a vitriolic black woman who seems bent on replacing a gracious gesture with hatred and anger. login to post comments | Sallie Satterthwaite's blog
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