To Those on the 5th Floor of the LU Library Last Wednesday Afternoon

Dear Everyone:

I am so sorry that our group of people talking disturbed you. Some of us didn’t know we were in a designated quiet space, and some of us knew but didn’t remember and were thoughtless.

None of which matters. All of us were rude and disrespectful. I’m so sorry for that.

I have no excuse. I wish I could un-do it, or make it up to you.

I wish I could restore to you the hours that you had hoped would be productive. I’m sure you didn’t get everything done that you’d planned to because we were noisy.

More than that, I wish I could give you back your inner peace—the positive resolve with which I imagine you approached your study session in the library.

I try to picture your day up to that point. You kissed your kids and slipped out into the morning, skipping breakfast. You wanted to be early to your work shift so you could leave on time and spend your afternoon with your project.

While you cleaned or filed or taught or washed dishes or researched or treated patients or served people, you ignored your fatigue and coaxed part of your brain to consider your project. To make connections. To create the exact phrase that expresses what you mean. Something specific and unique to your experience but building on or arguing with ideas and traditions from the past.

When your work shift was over, did you battle more than weariness to get to this study session? Did you combat imposter syndrome to even go onto campus?

On your way up the hill and through the library doors, did you have to remind yourself to breathe? Yes, you belong there. Yes, I belong here.

When you sat in that quiet space and opened your laptop, how did it feel to be surrounded by shelf after shelf full of volumes of established wisdom, which you’re challenging and subverting?

I don’t know you—or you or you, all the people sitting at all the tables. I know that each of you has a different story.

Most of all, I know that it cost you a lot of emotional energy to complain to the librarian when we weren’t respecting the quiet space.

It’s so wearing to have to claim space in the world all the damn time. Especially when you had picked a space that’s officially set aside for quiet work. And because our group behaved rudely, you had to claim that space again.

For what it’s worth, I’m so grateful you said something. You shouldn’t have had to.

I can’t give you back what I, though my lack of respect, took from you that afternoon. I will do my best to learn from the experience so I don’t make this same mistake in the future.

And now I will stop claiming your energy and attention—yet again—and re-apply myself to learning.

Sincerely,

Marion