By Eliana Pasarán
I had the fortune of growing up and walking among books, specializing in the publishing of those aimed at children, conceiving them from scratch, editing them and launching them on the market, but until relatively recently I had the immense fortune of mediating between books with children in a public library. Today I would like to share this experience with you.
To Paula and all the volunteers that keep La Biblio afloat
I
Sheltered under the generous shade of a mango tree, in the heart of a small town on the Oaxacan coast, lies the “Biblio de Mazunte”, a space for reading that together with the auditorium, the municipality and the basketball courts, makes up the community space of a busy tourist town.
In this hospitable, cool and calm space, an ocean of books of diverse interests hope to awaken the curiosity of readers and speak to them about the things of this world and others through a wide collection of words and images. Books can be taken on loan or read in situ, either inside to escape the heat, in the hammock that swings on the terrace or within the little square that leads to La Biblio which, in the afternoon, as soon as the sun goes down, is filled with children who run and play, musicians and lovers, tourists returning from the beach and sellers of “doradas” and “tlayudas”[1] whose aromas spread with the help of the breeze, attracting locals and strangers.
My love for La Biblio de Mazunte was born when I crossed its threshold for the first time and was overwhelmed by its aroma of paper and ink mixed with salt and sand. It is a loving and inviting place. A librarian welcomed me and allowed me to freely explore the space surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookcases, full of organized and well-classified books that invited me to caress the covers and spines, to smell songs, to crave their titles.
The recommendations of the month were displayed under the light of the windows and on a long wooden table, surrounded by mismatched chairs. In addition to the traditional sections of books on fiction, poetry, history, spirituality, science, crafts, and encyclopedias, there were special exhibitions of Mexican fiction and the complete Rius collection as well as a set of García Márquez’s work.
After surfing a bit here and there, feeling like a fish in water, I found the pearl of the treasure at the bottom of the library: a very small selection of children’s books that appeared carelessly arranged on a bookshelf and also stacked on a small table with several hardcover and different sized books that I accidentally knocked over as I passed by. When I picked them up, a wave of emotion broke through my chest: Where the Wild Things Are by Sendak, Voices in the Park by Anthony Browne and Niña Bonita by Ana María Machado, were among those I remember in that pile.
Also, in that little corner there were some puzzle pieces scattered on the floor, a few half-open board games under a bookshelf, and a drawing of a whale, all of which suggested that “La Biblio” was a daydreamer.
This encounter, a paradise within a tropical paradise, made me decide to move to the area as I had always wanted to do.
II
Thus, one hot afternoon at the end of 2018, I arrived in Mazunte with a suitcase and the last boxes of my specialized book collection for children and young people, with the intention that the children’s community play with them.
My first task as librarian was to expand the space for children and their books. The entry of this shoal of spines with different colors and sizes left no book unmoved and reconfigured the display and layout of the entire Biblio. The aim was to build a space for girls and boys to inhabit the area in the most comfortable way and that would make it familiar and attractive.
To do this, we put mats and cushions, painted crates and bookcases, and placed the books with their covers facing the front to attract readers’ attention more quickly. Likewise, we classified and displayed the copies by reading stages and subdivisions by genre (fiction, non-fiction, school books, manuals, etc.) and later by sizes, colors or sets, such as fairies and witches, the hour of hammock or silent books, which would change from time to time because, as you know, book exhibitions are one of the most common strategies for promoting reading and they serve to awaken curiosity, generate new interests and present different aesthetics and narrative voices.
We also extended the area at the foot of the mango tree in the little square to enjoy read alouds, explore books and invite play, integration and conviviality.
When the area was finally ready, the first ones to visit was a small group of captive readers who until then had populated La Biblio. They gladly approved the new offer, renewed book loans and began to visit us frequently.
Word spread and gradually other children of different ages and backgrounds began to come closer. Every Saturday they arrived early to take advantage of the activities that we dedicated to them and which we chose according to their various needs and interests because many were babies, others did not speak Spanish or were newly arrived in the area; others were on their way to learning to read and a few already read for themselves…
Fortunately, there were many, and very good, books for babies, books without words, illustrated picturebooks with all kinds of themes and styles, short and long novels, science books, picturebooks in other languages, etc. and with books and children we carried out activities before, during and after reading. We talked, played, made crafts and also let them enjoy the space at their leisure and take home any titles they wanted.
However, in the midst of these activities, a question was on my mind: children’s books, for which children? Those to whom we provided service then were all children of European, South American and Mexican migrants to the area who, knowing its value, encouraged the reading development of their children.
On the other hand, the majority of the parents of the families originally from Mazunte, who grew up with very limited access to education, culture in general and books in particular, did not know or value the space, which they also did not consider theirs, but rather the foreigners’. No matter how much we encouraged them to bring their children, they did not do so, which meant they did not benefit from it.
We could not let this to continue because some of the fundamental bases of reading mediation have to do with access to books, with establishing equal opportunities and creating a balance between the public and the private, with saying or being silent, with doing or letting things simply happen.
Children’s books, for which children? There were books for everyone, without distinction and without doubt; we just had to find a way to build bridges between these confronted realities, to make the unknown interesting and desirable or, in other words, trap them in our nets.
III
At the beginning of 2020, the threat of COVID arrived and, as in the rest of the planet, a commotion started in Mazunte. The schools were the first to close, the tourists began to pack their suitcases, and those of us who lived there started to collect everything we might need after the warning that entry and exit from the town would soon be restricted, something which finally happened at the end of April.
Like all public spaces, La Biblio also closed its doors. I could not find any formula, recipe or manual of practical and universal use that told us how to maintain a living space in the midst of a pandemic, but something told me that I should continue playing with books and children in my free time outside or inside the ocean.
Luckily, I had my books on hand, and the rereading of several authors such as Aidan Chambers, Geneviève Patte, Graciela Montes or Yolanda Reyes, as well as many conversations with Luz Odelinda, teacher of teachers in reading mediation at the FCE, provided me with nautical charts and spyglasses; a theoretical framework with wide freedom of experimentation and several strategies to navigate uncharted waters and open new ports for reading.
Fortunately, Mazunte’s geographical location allowed us to go through the pandemic outdoors and in a family environment, since most of the tourists and temporary migrants left. More than uncertainty, there was a lot of free time and a lot of heat, languid and boring afternoons, especially for girls and boys.
This gave me the opportunity to embark on an intense stage of conquest and take advantage of any opportunity to relate to childhood and get to know it in a closer and more intimate way. To do this I played tag, hide and seek, onions or two, three, “calabaza”; I would go with them to swim and explore the stream or Punta Cometa or ask permission to play Uno or put together puzzles in their homes with the other children (almost always family members) on the same street.
When finally, they were the ones who started looking for me to go out to play and their parents let them go with me with complete confidence, then and only then I started exchanging the games with which we already entertained ourselves for games with books. The first times they threw them aside or pretended not to pay attention to me, but little by little they fell under the seduction of reading aloud like sailors fall when mermaids sing.
So, unintentionally but intentionally, I introduced those who hadn’t met them to Willy and Chigüiro, Toad or Max and his “ojo submarino”, and I left books at their homes that might interest them as I got to know them better, or sometimes I broke all the rules and organized secret expeditions to La Biblio to dive between the pages of books and talk about what happens in this or that illustration, in the verse of a poem or at the moment when the sun goes out and the mosquitoes begin to bite.
IV
By the time the worst waves of the pandemic had passed and the world resumed its normal rhythm, La Biblio reopened its doors with new vigor and children of all ages, “Oaxacans and migrants” were integrating into the space in an organic and assiduous way.
To the traditional reading activities, were added chess and circus classes, art workshops, music, yoga, board games, theater, masks and a long etcetera to further promote integration and creativity, and to provide dynamism to the space that was frequently flooded with girls and boys as soon as we opened.
At the same time, we were creating new links with parents, teachers, artists, groups, and municipal and health authorities to reinforce La Biblio in its social, community and inclusive character, open and with books for all children, without distinction.
Unlike the publisher, who often measures the success of their proposals in the formation of their catalog and its sales, the success of mediation, that vital part in the book and reading chain, is immeasurable, because we cannot quantitatively know the impact that reading a book generates in a child.
However, we know that we are sailing in good waters when those who inhabit a space for reading defend it with love and care against hurricanes and storms, just as the children of Mazunta did before the passage of Hurricane Agatha that devastated the area on the 30th of May, 2022.
That is a very good story that I will tell you at another time… for now I would like to point out that working with children requires a lot of energy, a lot of will, a lot of humility and patience, and also knowledge and strategies not only to foster a passion for reading, but also to overcome the murky waters that arise along the way of any journey.
Therefore, it is necessary to foresee the path, create itineraries, give continuity to the projects, and above all, create alliances and bridges between various actors so that the reading spaces intended for children are consolidated and can raise their anchors in search of new routes and horizons.
Furthermore, we must continue to train mediators who can transmit their passions, exercise attentive listening, encourage dialogue and know books and their readers in depth, since they are essential figures, especially in adverse social contexts where a good selection of books, an attractive space or good intentions is not enough. It is not only necessary to combat apathy or disinterest, but also marginalization, prejudice and ignorance, since this results in only a few enjoying what belongs to many.
“Books arrive, but we need someone to show us that they exist and that there is something in us that needs them,” my dear Yolanda Reyes said in an interview. I am sure that those of us gathered here today are or have been that “someone” who promotes reading in a tireless, generous and passionate way, and this makes me happy, because “passions are like the winds: they are necessary to set in motion all things, although they frequently cause hurricanes,” as the writer Bernard le Bovier de Fontenelle once noted.
[1] “Doradas” and “Tlayudas” are traditional Mexican food that follow the “quesadillas” principle of a folded tortilla filled with meat, chicken or fish. However, the corn tortilla used on both “Doradas” and “Tlayudas” are relatively bigger than the average and are prepared on wood or coal stoves.
* Presentation by Eliana Pasarán for the closing of the XXIV State Meeting of Reading Mediators within the framework of the Xalapa Book Fair, June 25, 2024.
