A Love of Reading and of Children Were Sharen Wilson’s Gift

May 11, 2006
By Greta Sproul

In “A Tree Grows In Brooklyn,” Betty Smith‘s classic coming-of-age novel published in the 1940s, there is an important scene that takes place at the neighborhood library in which the main character, Francie spends much of her time. Francie is a girl from a poor family for whom the lure of education is so strong that she lies about her address in order to enroll in one of Brooklyn’s better schools. When she’s not in school, Francie is hunkered down in the library, reading her way through the alphabetically arranged bookshelves. But then, one day, as she approaches the librarian’s desk with an impossibly dull medical reference book from the “B’ section, the librarian slides a story book about the adventures of medieval knights on top of it.

“Why don’t you take this one, too, Francie?” she says. “You need to read for your imagination, too.”

At home, as she reads the book the librarian has given her, Francie realizes for the first time that reading is not just about gaining knowledge, it’s also a ticket buying her a flight on the wings of imagination.

Enter Sharen Wilson, part-time library ed tech at Old Town Elementary School. Wilson is the real-life counterpart of the librarian in Francie’s fictional world, someone who has not only encouraged scores of children to read, but who has sparked in many of them a lifelong appreciation for the written word.

According to Wilson, it all comes down to finding the right book for each child.

“Sometimes it takes a while,” she says. “I ask the child what he or she is interested in, and, depending on their reading level, I’ll try to come up with something that I think will be right for them. It’s so satisfying when you find that right book and you see them sitting over in a corner of the library, reading it.”

Wilson’s physical energy is legendary among her co-workers, but when it comes to talking about her work as a library ed tech, she speaks thoughtfully, taking time to mull questions over thoroughly before offering a response. Asked how she first developed her own passion for uniting the right book with the right young reader, she thinks for a moment and then begins to describe the library in the elementary school she attended in an area outside of Madison, Wisconsin.

“It was really just an el-shaped room,” she says, “and if you couldn’t read at the third-grade level in first grade, you were out of luck.”

It was when Old Town’s four elementary schools consolidated in 2003 that Wilson’s drive and determination really rose to the fore. Preparing to transfer the contents of the library at the Helen Hunt school to the new elementary school library involved hours and hours of painstakingly going over each book and then decided whether to keep it or discard it.  When she was done, she had 150 boxes of books.

“It wasn’t just me though,’ she adds quickly. “The other three librarians all had the same amount of books. It took us from September to somewhere around late October to get all of our books sorted out and in place, but we did. We all worked very, very hard.”

The other three librarians were Cheryl Brockway, Debbie Gilman, and Katie Greenman, all of whom Wilson contends are just as dedicated and passionate about their jobs as she is.

“And we all wanted a certified librarian to complete the vision of the new library,” she adds. “ Lynn Lowell answered that call beautifully. She organized the computerization of the card catalogue, and trained Cheryl and I.”

When Wilson retires as a part-time library ed-tech at the end of this year, it will not be without some regret that she is leaving earlier than she had planned. She makes no secret about the fact that the impending shadow of school budget cuts had a strong influence on her decision to retire early.

“I wasn’t planning on working forever,’ she says, “but I would have liked to do it for a couple more years at least.”

And so what will Wilson do after she leaves the library that her love and commitment helped to build?

“I’ll get my house in order,” she says, “and I’ll organize my photographs. I also plan to spend more time in my camp.”

Wilson’s physical energy is legendary among her fellow librarians, and it is hard to picture her sitting in repose with a photo album for any extended length of time. But like any good teacher—or librarian—Wilson hopes that she has left an indelible mark on at least a few young minds, and that former students will cherish the memory of her as much as she will cherish her memory of them.

“Let me tell you about something that happened when I was at Helen Hunt,” she says. “My husband and I lived right down the street. One day when my husband was out working in the yard, this little boy came walking by and he asked my husband, ‘Is this where Mrs. Wilson lives?’ My husband told him it was. And then the boy said, ‘Well, she gave me a really good book. Do you have any more?’”

Recounting the incident, Wilson laughs, heartily, relishing the memory of her husband’s surprise at being tapped for more books by the youthful stranger. She turns serious, though, when asked if she has any advice for the parents of the young students who will continue to visit the Old Town elementary school library after she is gone.

“Turn off the television,” she says. “It’s hard for something like reading to compete with the variety of ways we have to be active or entertained these days. Turn it off sometimes, and never let a child have a TV in the bedroom.”