I recall that when I was very small, the elementary school library surprised me with a sudden sense of importance.  It was revelatory to realize that each and every book had different contents, yet were all the same in their availability to me.  I recall on that day, in the 2nd grade, I took home “Ramona the Pest” and a Disney Robin Hood-themed oversized tome entitled “The Sherwood Forest Cookbook.”

The Ramona book seemed quite substantial in hardcover, and I reveled in the unspoken nod to precociousness it’s heft suggested, cradled by my small arms.  The cookbook ended up leading to my 4th grade sister using it to make genuinely fabulous scrambled eggs.  From there, we used it for a week of glorious play wherein I would order food from her menu.  Being that this sister was typically mean to me, it is little surprise that my association of the library with overall magical beneficence was ever after firmly established.

I think back on this as I prepare to interview tomorrow morning.  If selected, I would officially be an elementary school librarian.  I must admit, there is an element of wonderment in the possibility, as I recall the unreachable pedestal upon which I’d placed all adults affiliated with that weekly library visit.  Maybe that will now be my role, full circle, if only the Doctorate doesn’t scare anyone off! That degree is so much not any big deal, in the end serving primarily as a decorative flourish proving my lifelong enamorment with books.

Good luck to me.