I’m not sure how old I was when I learned to read. I do remember my mother telling me that I couldn’t write a single letter when I started school in Grade 1 in Vernon. She said I was a stubborn little cuss (imagine that!) and refused to hold a pencil long enough for her to show me how to print.
However, a lovely young woman teacher soon had me a functionally literate elementary student. I remember vividly loving that first school. Shortly after I began school in the Okanagan, my mother pulled up stakes and took the then family of five children off to her relatives in Saskatchewan.
Initially we moved to a small town, Gravelbourg, where the predominate culture was French and where I felt completely a fish out of water. In addition to being the third smallest kid in the school (we lined up by size every morning, all 12 grades), I couldn’t understand much of what was going on around me. Luckily, the world of Dick and Jane and Spot soon drew me in, and I became a life-long reading fanatic.
All this came to mind at two functions I attended this past week.
Last Thursday I was fascinated to hear the inroads many in this community have made to remove barriers to a cohesive society. Capilano University deserves applause for the many years ESL has been such a big part of the curriculum. I know what it feels like to be left out of conversations. It hurts.
Perhaps the one statement that impressed me the most at that event was Christabelle Kux-Kardos’ observation that no one looks illiterate. We don’t hang signs around our necks telling all and sundry we can’t read. We are fortunate to have people in our midst such as Sandy Middleton from Cap U who make learning to read as an adult a much less traumatic experience. We owe a great debt of thanks to the many tutors who’ve volunteered countless hours over the years to remove this sizable obstacle from our fellow Coasters’ lives.
On Saturday my favourite Gibsons’ entity celebrated 100 years of serving the folks of the south end of the Sunshine Coast.
I remember walking into the old library when we first moved here in 1993. The building at the time was bursting at the seams. Its contents had long outgrown its housing. A few years later, thanks to a yes vote at a crucial referendum, one of the most beautiful book homes I’ve ever been privileged to use opened its doors.
I was tickled pink at the party on March 29 when Pat Drope, masquerading as author Pearl Buck, lauded me for recognizing her character. “Well done,” she said. My feathers are still fluffed.
I honestly cannot think of a time when I didn’t leave a library a happier person than when I went in. Through teenage angst years, through sketchy times as an unhappy young adult and through lonely times in a new community, my book friends have always been there.
To Manjit Kang and the marvelous folks on the Gibsons Library board, I say congratulations. Thank you for your hard work in making this a year to remember. We are truly blessed to have this library.
