When I was a kid, the word “library” meant one thing: boredom. It conjured up images of stuffy silence, stern librarians, and endless shelves of dusty books that seemed more interested in gathering cobwebs than capturing my imagination. Yet, I’ve since learned that this perception couldn’t be more wrong. The library is not a place where fun goes to die; it’s a playground for the mind. So why do we, as adults, so often pass it off as a dreary destination for last-minute study sessions or research marathons? I can’t help but think we’ve done our children a disservice by failing to frame it as what it really is: a place of adventure, discovery, and, yes, play. Imagine for a moment if the library wasn’t treated like a "last resort" when you've exhausted all other options for entertainment. What if, instead, it was seen as a treasure chest waiting to be opened? Each shelf a new map to a far-off land, every book a ticket to a new world where anything is possible? This shift in ...
