Along the busy stretch of Fifth Avenue stands the imposing New York Public Library, or NYPL to many. The 112-year-old ornate building with two lion marbles guarding its grand façade that leads to wide welcoming steps, massive pillars and arched entrances is a repository for hundreds of thousands of books and reference materials for students and scholars and collections of prized artworks for curious tourists and art aficionados.
In my pursuit of wonder in this city, the NYPL is one of the places I frequent. At a time when I did not yet have adequate documents to apply for a library card, I indulged myself in an ongoing exhibit aptly called “Treasures,” featuring the early beginnings of New York; relics related to famous writers and poets such as Charles Dickens’ study or Virginia Wolf’s walking stick; the first edition of James Joyce’s Ulysses and a copy of the Green Book, which in the era of segregation was a must bring “guide for travel and vacations” for men and women of color. I nosily roamed each floor admiring the paintings at the McGraw rotunda, peeping through the Map Room and glancing at the Rose main reading room and its elaborate ceiling, a massive oeuvre in itself.
I have not visited our national library for decades now and the last time I stopped by the UP Main Library was to take a throbbing look at the space where Beach house, the ubiquitous open air eating area that sold the best barbecue in the campus, once stood.
My daughter and I spent half a day marveling at Singapore’s public library a few years ago, so I relish the sense of incredulity I feel each time I step into NYPL, especially when I finally got a library card. In addition to my US issued ID all I needed was a proof of my home address. A quick scan of the bar code led me to the online application portal. In less than 10 minutes, the helpful librarian handed me a red ATM like card with the iconic lion figure. But that was before asking whether I would prefer the special edition Spiderman card. I thought of how cool it was to have such a choice.
Then the fantastic feeling of holding my first ever library card as a first grader – or did we call it a borrower’s card – came alive. Mrs. Loares, our then librarian at the Catholic school I once attended, handed me a lined off-white cardboard larger than my palm as she guided me to the spaces I had to fill in for my name, grade level, book title, date borrowed and due date. She reminded me to return the books I loaned on time to avoid a fine. I wonder how school children in our country do their library transactions now because even if I moved to a public school, borrowing books from the library still formed part of our school routine.
The NYPL is open to the public. Obliquely across the more popular baroque building is the state-of-the-art Stavros Niarchos Foundation Library. It is haven not only for students and scholars but to anyone who wishes to spend time to read the latest copy of The New York Times, do unlimited browsing of magazines or featured books for the day, avail of free computer access or to simply relax and have a quick meal or, in my case, eat my baon at the spacious rooftop.
On a regular day, the seven-story modern edifice whose renovation was undertaken by the foundation where it is named after is also home to a roomy children’s area, replete with books and toys, a teen center, a section for language learning and separate floors depending on one’s interests. This summer an array of outdoor and indoor events and literary-music festivals awaits the public.
Every time I go to either building for research or to check out the latest exhibits, I am tremendously impressed by the innovative efforts to make the library vibrant, relevant and accessible to all. I honestly feel jealous of the extraordinary opportunities for learning and leisure citizens of this city have, especially when I see a toddler comfortably hunched in a colorful nook and being read to by an adult, an elderly contently reading a magazine or newspaper, students patiently poring over shelves upon shelves of reference materials or immigrants enthusiastically taking up their English language lessons.
Oftentimes I find myself daydreaming about our school children or elderly back home amidst a similar environment instead of spending time in malls. Or could there be at least a good number of mobile libraries visiting communities similar to what my children looked forward to every week while growing up in Hong Kong? Such experiences foster the young’s life-long love for reading. I know of like-minded individuals in our country who are involved in community-based learning and reading centers and I have read about bibliophiles who had opened their private collections to the public. Maybe it could spell a difference if efforts, funding and initiatives to reinvigorate or fortify our public library system would emanate from public servants, starting from local government units.
“Charles Darwin: A Life in Letters” is an ongoing exhibit at the NYPL. I learned from this extensive and well-curated exhibition how the great scientist used letter writing as a useful if not an influential instrument for research. Of late there was a campaign circulated among NYPL members to sign a letter addressed to the mayor of New York to reconsider a potential cut on the budget allocated for the library. Like Darwin whose letters had influenced some of his works, I wish that the members’ appeal to maintain the library’s funding will be seriously addressed. The sentiments of NYPL’s beneficiaries are valid, considering how its facilities, services and regular exhibits on its storied halls and walls continue to enthrall, educate and entertain the public.