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When I learn that children today are attending libraries to be indoctrinated by transgender, transsexual or cross dressing “ entertainers “ I somehow feel that kids are victims of theft. This precious and irreplaceable learning experience, this wonder of books and the magic of the written word, the joy of imagination – it is being stolen and stifled by those who want to sexualise, politicise and poison young minds to such an extent that they will never have the love of a library like so many of us older folk do. A young man, Wilson Gavin,  dared to confront some of the drag queens with dreadful and heartbreaking results. The young man who confronted the folk at the library has been found dead.  Suicide. Hounded by trolls on social media? Who knows... This is getting serious.

When I was a child, my parents took me to the library once a fortnight. It was one of the most exciting and wonderful days of my calendar and those visits began my lifelong love of the written word, the world of endless magic and the treasure trove that lay within its walls.

Today, children are taken to the library and sat down by their parents to be taught what to think, not how to think. Let them explolre their own imaginations.

They are missing the magic of discovery that a Library brings: free of adult interference and disruption to the development of their sense of SELF.

As a child, my library books were carefully chosen. By me. Almost like a ritual of magnificent solemnity, I would examine the titles, pick up a few and decide if the book “ felt right. “

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It may be the title, the cover or a random emotion that it simply had a certain something about it. Either way, it mattered not. Those wondrous moments at the library were almost as important as my attendance to Sunday School and Church – such reverence did I feel.

One thing I loved about the library as a child was the silence. I grew up in the country so silence was something that I was accustomed to – but it was a different kind of silence: a silence that one only really feels in a place of worship.

I continue to frequent the library, the musty, dusty Aladdin’s Caves that are Second hand bookshops and hold my fortnightly library days in reverence as places of joy beyond measure.

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As my eyesight begins to be less sharp, I have gravitated to the big print sections and feel somewhat bereft that my choices of “ fix “ are less expansive than they once were. Yet, when I find that tome and open the cover to the first page, I seem to revert to my child like self and cuddle up with a new friend and prepare to be swept away in to somewhere I have never visited before.

As I have grown older, the library has become a place of fellowship – a place where I meet up with fellow book aficionados and a place to laugh and chat and pass the time of day. I no longer choose a book based on its cover or title – I tend to choose because of the author or a recommendation from a fellow library enthusiast.

The library is much like my books now – chosen for convenience, availability and ease of access.

I have at least got that wonderful memory of the childhood cherished delight of a library as a place of sanctuary, safety and self.

In the library of my childhood, in many respects, I developed who I have grown up to be. I developed my love of history; my love of Science Fiction; my love of Fantasy and my love of Words.

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My library, as a child, DID have a profound effect upon my development as an adult. I feel a tragic and quiet outrage that children today are having their childhoods stolen from them by a manipulative movement that is using them as pawns in a political strategy hell bent on turning these young minds and bodies in to pliable and vulnerable victims of a perverse and dangerous game of chess: where the Queen can take the King.

In an episode of the once great Doctor Who: “ You want weapons? We're in a library. Books are the best weapon in the world. This room's the greatest arsenal we could have. Arm yourself! “– Russell T Davies.

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No wonder “ they” want to destroy the library magic. “ They” are turning the library in to a place of indoctrination and deviance.

Surely Benjamin Franklin did not intend this?

I cannot help but end with this quote:

What a school thinks about its library is a measure of what it feels about education.”
― Harold Howe

What we, as a Society, allow to happen in our libraries, is a measure of how we feel about our children.

Parents? What have you to say to this?

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