Editor’s note: the following is a creative expression of concern over the library controversy in Columbia County.
Dear Library,
It’s me, Marlena. For nearly half a century, you’ve been my constant: through unairconditioned childhood summers, research projects, military life transitions, and family struggles. In a world of online noise and endless scrolling, you’ve offered quiet clarity, kind librarians, big open tables, and a variety of vetted sources on a subject. You’re my weekly routine in between church and grocery shopping.
You never told me what to think or read. You reflect our humanity, and sometimes, our inhumanity. Your texts illuminate all the ways we’ve erred, and all the times, against all odds, we’ve been extraordinary.
But now, I’m deeply concerned. You’re under attack by those who misunderstand or seek to control your mission. Recent moves, such as adopting vague, likely unconstitutional Library Guidelines and the Columbia County Commission’s vote to leave the regional system, suggest a push toward censorship and isolation, not child protection.
The Evans branch now literally stands in the shadow of government expansion and overreach. Efforts to restrict access—often by people who haven’t read the books, aren’t parents of affected children, or don’t hold library cards—undermine your purpose. This isn’t about one book. It’s a broader mindset creeping into local leadership.
Libraries must serve everyone. That means upholding the Columbia County Library Bill of Rights and offering diverse viewpoints, not removing titles based on ideology or hearsay. Parents should guide their own children—not all children. The public deserves transparency, librarian expertise, etiquette towards other patrons and staff, and respect for the United States’ constitutional rights.
We’ve seen this story before: silencing ideas often leads to silencing people. From Nazi book burnings to Jim Crow censorship, history reminds us that fear thrives when curiosity and tolerance is suppressed.
You’re more than books. You’re classes, programs, performances, in-person and online tutoring, tech access with Alex Cooper, storytimes, music lessons, book clubs, BrickCon, chess, coding, resume building, classics, preserved non-circulating historical references, quiet refuge—and trained librarians who show up every day to help us grow, even during a pandemic, even after damaging storms, power and internet outages, and dangerous road conditions.
Censorship efforts distort that mission. Outlandish claims, like calling the teen section “pornographic,” aren’t just legally false—they’re dangerous and dishonor the professionals who build inclusive collections. When books disappear without explanation or are misrepresented in public meetings, that’s not accountability: it’s censorship and disinformation, and removing diverse stories from library bookshelves isn’t a moral victory; it’s moral panic.
Some cite Scripture to justify exclusion, but forget its deeper calls to justice and compassion. The Bible has far more to say about fairness and mercy than about regulating others’ behavior. Its core teachings are clear:
- Love God.
- Love your neighbor.
- And yes—even love your enemies.
If we’re being honest, the Bible has over 20 verses about fairness, due process, and showing compassion to the foreigner or alien. Scripture repeatedly and empirically reminds us: You were once aliens in Egypt. The Bible’s calls for justice and mercy toward immigrants, towards ‘the Least of us,’ objectively carry more weight.
This isn’t just about books. It’s about preserving a library that serves everyone. Patrons are under no obligation to check out materials or programs that don’t enrich or apply to them. Promoting tolerance is a community strength and discourages bullying, tragedies, and hate crimes. We must never forget what happens when vehement intolerance is allowed to fester, privately or publicly.
We can discuss policies—but only with transparency, inclusion, and respect for all librarians’ expertise.
Now more than ever, we need public libraries—places that foster critical thought and reflect a community crossroad between our creeds and cultures regardless of household income. Let’s protect that mission, that hub, that heartbeat of our community. Our libraries are not battlegrounds. They’re bridges—to knowledge, to one another, and to the future we’re trying to build.
Enough nonsense and noise at the library. Enough clandestine and unconstitutional activity over books.
Let’s get back to reading and solving bigger problems. A great community deserves a great library.
Yours truly,
Marlena Bergeron, M.Ed.
Bibliophile and Former Library Trustee
