"A Stubborn and Ornery Hope" by Darren C. Demaree

Mini Portraits of America: Day in the Life series

Photo by Henry Be

When I made the career decision to step away from academia and into public libraries, I wrote in my planner, “I can make it a poem.” I used to try to structure my syllabi like I would a poem. I do the same thing now when I’m asked to lead a workshop. I write my notes like they’re a poem. I’ve published twenty-four collections of poetry in twelve years. I try to make everything a poem. That was my view when I got my Masters in Library Science after getting a Masters in Creative Writing. I’ll make it a poem.

The problem with my plan was you can’t just author your way into improving a community. The intent is nice, but limiting. What I learned somewhat early on, in the rush of a new career, was to slow down and to listen. We talk all the time at the library about meeting people where they’re at and helping them get where they want to go. We don’t get to dictate the terms or the destination. We’re helpers, and if we’re doing our jobs with patience and empathy then there’s nothing that we author. At our best we make sure all the possible tools are available and that all avenues for success are open and understood.

It took me a few years to learn how to work this way. I was smart and driven and holding on to the idea that I could make this a poem. I think I wanted to put my name on it. That’s what authors do, we put our names on the cover, or at the top of the piece. This work doesn’t need my name anywhere on it. This work needs me to put the name of the community I serve on the cover, and for me to show up as often as I can to help them build the next chapter. This isn’t the point of why I do what I do now, but it’s incredibly freeing to let go of your name and ego and just help, to have your pride emanate from your ability to help someone else.

The path to helping has gotten harder the last few years. Book bans rise dramatically every year. The Ohio statehouse keeps playing games with our materials and our budget. Ohio used to be the envy of every other state due to our public and financial support, and now when I talk to friends that work outside of Ohio, they know that we’re now in the fight the same as they’ve been. I’ve lived in Ohio almost my entire life, and it’s a real bummer to lose one of the only things we were a positive example of for the rest of the country. We used to fund our libraries better, and now we don’t. Now, we’re not special in that way, and it kind of breaks your heart.

These challenges haven’t stopped us. We’re still open. We’re still teaching kids to read and love books. We’re still helping with homework and distributing free snacks to hungry kids. We’re still helping people with technology and employment challenges. We offer free notary services. We’re warming centers in the winter and cooling centers in the summer. We got rid of late fees years ago. The problem now is that those things aren’t our only focus. We have to keep our eyes on political tides and fearmongering as well. The problem is we’re being made to be the authors of a story that isn’t ours.

I stand in firm opposition to the named and unnamed shadows that look to steal beauty and knowledge from the people in our community. All those bad or clueless actors want to cement a panic and frustration in our customer’s lives and it’s those small frustrations that become bigger frustrations without a public library. It’s those big frustrations that can lead to difficult, narrowing, life-altering decisions like theft or violence. The safety net is the thinnest it’s ever been. We should be given more tools instead of seeing our funds turned into political props.

Whatever comes next, I’ve made my decision, I’ll be at the library, and I’m happy to talk books or help someone apply for a job or benefits or just let you use a comfortable chair in a warm building while your phone charges. We’re a public institution, not a poem, and I don’t get to choose the final lines. I get to listen to the piece the community is working on, and do my best to help them finish it how they want. I think being a poet was a good entry point to working at a public library, but the truth is there are no bad entry points to a public library. You just have to come in, and we’ll be there with a stubborn and ornery hope.

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Darren C. Demaree is the author of twenty-four poetry collections, most recently “Now Flourish Northern Cardinal”, (Small Harbor Publishing, November 2025). He is the recipient of a Greater Columbus Arts Council Grant, an Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Award, the Louise Bogan Award from Trio House Press, and the Nancy Dew Taylor Award from Emrys Journal. He is currently working in the Columbus Metropolitan Library system.