Words: Maya Price (she/her)
But, what these literary sanctuaries offer extends far beyond the final line of any book: they remind us that just because some stories may have been overwritten, doesn’t mean they have to stay that way.
Outside the Glasgow Women’s Library in the city’s East End, an illuminated sign reads: ‘Give light and people will find the way’. The words, originally spoken by civil rights activist Ella Baker, encircle a rendition of Andrew Carnegie’s flaming torch motif: a symbol of progress and enlightenment. The sign was created by Glasgow-born artist Rabiya Choudhry as a tribute to the public libraries that make culture and history accessible to all. For many, it is a reminder of what serves as the only beacon of hope during difficult times: stories.
Glasgow is brimming with libraries, from the iconic Mitchell Library to the Riddrie Library where legendary writer and artist Alasdair Gray often escaped to as a child. But, what these literary sanctuaries offer extends far beyond the final line of any book: they remind us that just because some stories may have been overwritten, doesn’t mean they have to stay that way.
Take the array of research projects run by the Glasgow Women’s Library, for example. One such project, titled She Settles in the Shields, hosts a collection of oral histories documenting the journeys of immigrant women who settled in Pollokshields. Another, called Voices from the Belvidere, is an archival project centred around the women who worked in the Belvidere Fever Hospital during the First World War. Stepping into the Govanhill Library, colourful displays of stained glass windows frame the main room. Designed by local community groups, each pane depicts the rich histories and lives of the Govanhill people, celebrating the library as a space of both diversity and cultural exchange.
But, these havens of culture and community occupy an increasingly precarious position in our lives. A recent report published by the Scottish Book Trust found that, between the years of 2008 and 2024, 97 of Scotland’s public libraries were permanently closed due to funding cuts. Back in February 2024, Glasgow City Council agreed to a review of libraries in schools in order to save around £100,000. They proposed removing librarians from all of Glasgow’s secondary schools, instead replacing them with area-based librarians, a principal librarian, and lower-paid assistants, which was met with backlash. By de-professionalising our school libraries, what are we actually saving? Whether for academic advice or just a chat on a rough day, qualified librarians are invaluable to schools as they can provide educational and social support that many students can’t find elsewhere.
Libraries and the expertise required to run them, whether in public or educational settings, should not be treated as disposable resources. To invest in a library is to understand that our treatment of the past – whose stories we decide to tell, and how we tell them – affects the ways we move through the present and the future. Given how the current political climate, both at home and abroad, is riddled with xenophobia and ill-judged attempts to rewrite history, it has never been more important to protect these spaces. In an opinion piece on the value of books that can shock and undo us, author Viet Thanh Nguyen wrote that recent rises in book-banning campaigns represent ‘the struggle over what a child, a reader and a society are allowed to think, to know, and to question.’ The decision to cut funding for libraries may not stem from the same blatant desire to limit a society’s capacity for reflection on complex realities, as many book-banning initiatives do, but the outcome is arguably the same. It can lead to a loss of the stories that can push the limits of our own, often narrow, worldviews, which enable us to imagine alternative ways of existing among others.
Whilst this cultural loss is, without doubt, a tragedy, it’s equally important to think of the impacts of library closures on a practical, day-to-day level. Libraries provide free access to resources like the internet, computers, printers, and indoor heating. They are often the only places open to the public where anyone can access these tools, or even just spend the day somewhere safe and sheltered without being expected to pay a fee. Many libraries also offer services such as mental and physical health advice, child and adult literacy programmes, employment resources, and support for asylum seekers, to name a few. The loss of a library – especially for the underprivileged communities who rely on them the most – is not just a loss of books, but also a loss of vital social services.
Through access to cultural artefacts, everyday resources, and community support, libraries work hard to ensure that anyone can participate in the activities which culture and history are built upon. When a library closes its doors, we’re not just stripped of stories from the past, but also of countless stories yet to be told, from people who no longer have a way to tell them.
Glasgow’s libraries are here to educate us, inspire us, and most importantly, to remind us of our collective responsibility to uplift the voices of others. If we lose our libraries, then we lose the creativity and compassion that binds us all together.
