Visiting the Occupy DC library

Two miles from the largest library in the world stands what is probably the newest library in the world, a fledgling collection of books housed in a makeshift tent right smack dab in the middle of DC's McPherson Square.

James, Lulu, and I visited this weekend and were given a tour by Eric Gustavson, founder and caretaker of the Occupy DC library, which started as a small pile of donated books and has grown into a collection of more than 1,000 titles. It's fondly known as "The Peoples' Library."

I worked across the street from McPherson Square for years; on nice days, I used to eat my lunch on a bench in the middle of the park. The park is barely recognizable from the one I remember so well, with a maze of tents, bearing names like "Camp David" and "Fort Defiance" on hand-lettered signs, covering almost all of the square except for a small green space left open for meetings and recreation. McPherson Square is only a fraction of the size of other Occupy venues across the country, and the impact of so much activity in such a small space is, at first, overwhelming. But it's a carefully ordered kind of chaos, with separated living spaces and signs pointing the way to the information booth, kitchen, medical tent, and restroom facilities.


It was a warm day for November--sunny, with temperatures in the 60s--and the square was buzzing with activity. Volunteers from a local Quaker meeting were unloading boxes of fresh produce from flat-bed trucks parked on I Street. Signs were spread out along a walkway, quilt-like, for passers-by to see. Protesters had seated themselves around the statue of Major General McPherson, discussing labor issues and sharing stories. An organizer went through the crowd at intervals, distributing the most recent pieces of information to the crowd. DC has disallowed the use of PA systems by the Occupy crowd, and so the organizers communicate without them. "Mic check!" a man bellowed, and the cry was repeated by those who could hear him. "Everybody listen up," he called out, and relayed his news. Dozens of voices echoed it back until it had rippled all over the square.

But by far, the most activity surrounded the library. When we arrived, a camera crew had just finished up interview with Gustavson and was browsing through the stacks. There was a sign denoting the library's presence, with a placard next to it noted that a teach-in would be taking place at 3 PM. Someone had posted a list of Occupy DC rules--respect others, use gender-neutral pronouns, keep the space clean--but other than that, the library concept is entirely free range. It never closes. (A generator keeps the tent lit overnight.) Anyone can come and take a book at any time: protesters, visitors, the homeless. There are no sign-out sheets, no library cards, no record of who has checked out what. The system is entirely honor-code-based with one philosophy: Take a book, leave a book.


James and I had come armed with a heap of books to donate. "This is a popular one," Gustavson said, shelving my old copy of Nickel and Dimed in the Hot Issues section. He took us through the stacks and pointed out a biography of Rin Tin Tin as evidence of the diversity of their collection. Indeed, the Occupy DC library seems as inclusive as the movement itself, with Pat Conroy sharing shelf space with Alexis de Tocqueville. In addition, there are pamphlets, newspapers, and comic books. There's even a small section of children's literature, including Madeleine L'Engle, C.S. Lewis, and a lone copy of Hans Brinker, or the Silver Skates. All have Occupy DC written in permanent marker along the top pages. This makes the books hot souvenirs to passers-by; a lot of the times, Gustavson says, books taken out of the library never make their way back. But he doesn't really mind. "As long as somebody is reading and enjoying it," he says. "Then I'm cool."
And more books are coming in every day, so many that Gustavson has enlisted the help of several library students and volunteer librarians to help manage and catalog the growing collection. Gustavson, an out-of-work construction worker, is responsible for the design and construction of the library out of tarps, bamboo poles, duct tape, and plastic sheeting. It can't compare to the stunning architecture of other DC landmarks, but it at least helps to (mostly) protect the books from the elements. Books are spread out over tables, stacked on shelves made from milk crates and the type of plastic storage units found in college dorm rooms. Gustavson has said in an interview with the Washington Post that when the "inevitable" order comes for the protestors to disperse, he'll chain himself to one of the heavier, wooden bookcases.

Being the book lover I am, I couldn't help but wonder what will happen to the books when the protest comes to an end. Will they be handed out to anybody who wants one? Or will they be cataloged and stored somewhere, for later installation in an exhibit about the movement? It seems kind of rude and spoilsporty to ask, and so I just smile and hand Gustavson more books from my bag. As long as someone's reading them and enjoying them, then I guess I'm cool, too.

"Is this nonfiction?" Gustavson asks hopefully as he peers at a copy of Free Food for Millionaires. The library has a need for nonfiction, especially books on economics and poverty, legal textbooks. Gustavson says he envisions the space becoming a kind of reference library, where people can come to get an idea of the impact of the problem, the possible solutions. But he admits, a little unwillingly, that most people who browse the tent are looking for fiction.

"Of course we are," says an onlooker. "After all, we need something to occupy ourselves." She smiles, pleased with her pun.

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DC area readers can drop books off at the Occupy DC library at any time, day or night. Send an email to constance.reader@gmail.com for more details.