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From my private journal.  I worked as the Circulation Supervisor for the main branch of the Kansas City, Kansas Public Library, for five years. 

 
9/9/2003

I have these mind-residents, past patrons of the libraries where I've worked. One is a young man who had been coming in since he was about 14. I guess you'd have to know that this library is in the poorest part of the poorest town, that taxpayers could afford no extra burden, and consistently voted down any increase. That new businesses opened and then closed, kind of like a metronome. You could almost set your watch by it.  I'd seen older people trapped there, defenseless. This town has the highest teen pregnancy rate in the nation, and one of the highest murder rates. You get the picture.

Anyway, this kid had come in, and in a moment of bravery, told me he wanted to see stuff about college.

I worked in circulation (was the manager, in fact) but we were slow right then, so we talked a bit. and knowing that people are often intimidated by the concept of a `Reference Desk,` I took him to the career section, and then introduced him to a librarian.

From then on, when he came in, he would stop and say hi. 'How ya doin?' we`d ask one another - never took more than a few minutes, but a few times we shook hands. I looked in his eyes & saw purpose.

Let pass a few years. The kid is 15, 16... and he's still coming in. We have a knife fight at the front desk, and the manager walks in on a woman stripped to nothing in the ladies', taking her bath at the sink. A regular patron known for his - scent - shows off his latest purchase. It's a loaded gun. Life moves on. Drunks pass out on the stairs leading to Childrens'. The kid comes in weekly, always stopping to share successes and frustrations.

I leave, and move on down the road to a richer library system, where kids are driven to the library in SUVs, where every event is oversubscribed.  I remember that inner city experience, but well - life moves on. I said that, and it's a little trite, but the hell with it.

One day, I get this call from a friend of mine still at that old, poor library. C, she says - do you mind if I put on someone who wants to talk to you? No, of course not, I say.

It's the kid. And he's kept it up, passed the tests, pushed pushed pushed, believed, gotten mouthy in his persistence, grown taller even in this environment where fear is turned to boredom - kept on going (and you'd best believe I'm smiling now, writing this) got himself a full scholarship to college. He wanted to say thank you.

Thank you, my friend James, your tall self.

You make my life whole with your success.