NOW This, by Louisa
NOW This, by Louisa
What is a collection? If I stopped you randomly on the street, waving cash, offering you a wad of bills for a simple definition, would you be able to answer? I know for certain that I could not. Hustling past, I would attempt to avoid eye-contact with the strange redhead (also somehow me in this scene) yelling on the sidewalk. Perhaps though, later, I would start to ponder. I know many people with collections of stuff—stamps, coins, Disney apparel, soap stolen from hotels. They are all groupings of things, but that’s all it is, right? Does it matter?
Maybe I should explain. I am currently in a class called “Introduction to the Museum”. We have been struggling for the past three weeks to define a collection. Here’s what we have come up with so far: a collection has material things, a collector, a designated space, and a value as a set greater than that of an item alone. A collection is also cared for, protected, and organized.
While I was washing dishes, I had a strange realization. Here I was, reading about collections, cabinets of curiosity, and botanical gardens, all while sitting cozily within our town’s best collection: the Ellicottville Memorial Library.
Indeed, the Library, full of books, magazines, CDs, and DVDs, is the ultimate collection. Lovingly curated by library director Laura Flanagan, Cathy Lacy, the Library Board, the Ellicottville Rotary, and a plethora of volunteers, the Library is an evolving collection that represents the wants and needs of the community. And it has the most comfortable chairs!
In fact, I could not imagine living in Ellicottville without the Library. The shelves of books welcome me soothingly every time I enter. Now, I sanitize my hands, wipe my laptop with disinfectant, and get to work on my Zoom University classes for the day. Through my headphones, I hear patrons coming in and out, ordering books, talking about the weather, printing and faxing. They browse the shelves, asking Laura for recommendations, wondering about the Covid-19 protocols for book returns. She answers everyone happily, pointing them to the NEW (!) arrivals while making sure every return sits for the recommended 72 hours before being allowed back through those magic glass doors.
I also hear knocks, thumps, bangs, and the occasional Springsteen bop. The Library is getting a facelift for the first time in years! Thanks to a New York State construction grant, a new study room and storage space will soon be open for use. A huge team of contractors has been making the renovation possible: Asa Moss at Moss Construction, Jim Snyder at Domestic Energy Resources (the kings of geothermal), Tom Chapman at Chapman Electric, Chad Mathe from Mathe Construction, and Chris Woodarek from Standing Seam Systems. It truly is a community effort.
Though I sit in this marvelous changing space every day, I rarely get the chance to take advantage of its physical collection. It is a small tragedy, but, as you can imagine, the many pages of class reading are a strong deterrent from doing so for pleasure. I do, however, go wild in the Cattaraugus-Chautauqua Library System’s digital collection.
On the Libby app, I head straight for the system’s vast collection of audiobooks. They have changed my life. I listen to books while eating breakfast, doing laundry, and driving from place to place. Each time I press play, I am transported. I forget all the grey uncertainty of the world around me as I am whisked to the streets of Baltimore, the Congolese jungle, or the coast of Maine. I listen to anything and everything, hungry to learn and understand. My favorite is when memoirs are read by their authors; their voices are the story, too. The best part: for once in my day, I don’t have to do anything.
Looking at our definition from before, I think it’s missing something. Yes, we’ve got our books, our beloved collector, our collection space. The Library is cared for, protected, AND organized. But its value, the one that supposedly stems from the whole being greater than the sum of its parts, is deeply rooted in the metaphysical. Our Library is a collection of souls, too. I see it in the little things: the initials inked in books, markings warding off accidental repeats of James Patterson. And I see it in the big ones, too: dedicatory plaques to women who loved sewing and gardening affixed to the walls. Together, we make up the middle souls, wandering in the doors to browse the book sale (which started Friday, September 18th and runs through Oct. 13th) and obeying social distancing while using computers (appointments preferred). The library is a piece of me, yes, but part of the collection of our greater Ellicottville essence, part of everybody. No matter how wizened and cynical I become, at least that fact will never fail to make me feel warm inside.
Louisa Benatovich is a 2019 graduate of Ellicottville Central School, current student of Johns Hopkins University, and team writer for ellicottvilleNOW.