Day Williams Al-Mohamed

A couple of months ago, I went to hear Toni Morrison speak at the opening session of the American Library Association (ALA) annual conference. I’ve read a couple of books of hers and they were…intense. That is the word that best describes them. They made me cry, they made me laugh, they made me think and they made me just a little bit uncomfortable in my everyday existence. So the experience of hearing her speak was something I wasn’t going to miss.

And she didn’t disappoint.

There are people who are writers and there are people who are storytellers. It isn’t mutually exclusive, but you always know when you meet the latter. They are the ones who can hold a room in thrall when they speak. The ones who can talk about their trip to the drycleaner and you can’t help but get drawn in to what they say, become mesmerized by it and suddenly it is no longer a jaunt across town, but a grand adventure, as exciting and overwhelming as Jules Verne’s “Journey to the Center of the Earth.” And the best storytellers don’t just entertain you with their narratives; the best storytellers make the tale personal, not only to themselves, but to you, crafting an intimate experience.

Toni Morrison is one of those best storytellers. She spoke about how she and her sister practiced their reading and writing growing up. She crafted mental images of how they would form letters with sticks in the dirt and how their mother once caught them copying a word off of a billboard that was *ahem* not one that little girls should know. She reminded us of how mysterious and wonderful words were, and reminded us of that joy in exploring them. I caught myself thinking about my own childhood and how large a role books played in them.

I grew up overseas in the tiny island kingdom of Bahrain, off the coast of Saudi Arabia in the Arabian Gulf. It is a beautiful country and has grown and changed so much in these past few years. However, when I was a child I don’t recall there being very many libraries at all. At least, I don’t have any childhood memories of visiting one. But I do have vivid memories of visiting the bookstore. There was one that my family almost always went to. I remember it being small, with narrow aisles, but there were books everywhere, on shelves higher than I could reach, all the way to the ceiling. And they were on so many interesting things: animals, and oceans, ancient civilizations, mysteries and adventures and stories of so many different places and people! I recall being overwhelmed and so very excited by it. I thought, if I could have every book in the store, then I would know everything about the world. I know other kids would visit the toy store and beg for this toy or that toy. I have to admit, most of my begging took place in that bookstore. Just one more! I really NEED this book too. Please?

And then there were the National Geographic books. An aunt in the United States would send them to us. I have dim memories of barely being able to control myself when those boxes arrived. Boxes and boxes of books! I learned about animals and people of the African safari, the mystery King Tutankhamun’s tomb, how the ancient Incas and Aztecs lived and so much more. I believe that my current love of history (and obsession with the History Channel in all its iterations) comes from that early exposure. Of course, my fascination with books only became all the greater when in middle school my parents bought “the encyclopaedia set.” I don’t recall who created those 20+ volumes of books but I was in love. Thousands and thousands of articles, essays and entries on these amazing people and events. I couldn’t help myself. There were more than a few school assignments that ended up being hurriedly written in the wee hours of the morning because I had paused to look something up in “the encyclopaedia set” and one article mentioned something in another, and the second cross-referenced a third, and so I would go and read more and more until suddenly it was 2:00am and I still had a paper to write. But oh how I loved those volumes.

Books became a part of my personal culture and belief system. If you had a question, then a book is where you could find the answer; if you wanted to learn something, a book could teach you; and if you were just bored and wanted to discover something new and entertaining, then a book could take you there. Toni Morrison’s recollections reminded me of that belief; of that love. We get so caught up now in work and information and digital and electronic formats; television and computers and smartphones. And trust me, I’m no luddite – I love what technology has done to society and how much more accessible information has become. I have a 55 inch television, an iPhone, two gaming systems, and at least 3-4 computers in the house (granted, not all of them are working right now). But we get caught up in the need for the information, for what the words mean that sometimes, we forget how much fun the words can be.

Toni Morrison’s ALA speech made us laugh; it made us gasp; it entertained and educated; but most importantly, Toni Morrison reminded us that we can go back to that childhood joy we all discovered in books. With a little nudge we can be reminded (and SHOULD be reminded) that stories and books hold that creative spark of both intimacy and wonder, encompassing the gamut of human experience that unites us all.

Thank you Toni Morrison.