Books Can Set You Free

The letter is from a nineteen-year-old. He's in Texas doing thirty-five for murder. He'll be fifty-four when he gets out. He is requesting science fiction or fantasy and a Spanish dictionary, but any book will do. And that's how most of them end: an entreaty for any book at all, closing with profuse gratitude and blessing for the work we do.

I am at church, helping Books to Prisons, a volunteer organization that matches donated books to prisoner requests. It's my assignment for the day at Foundry United Methodist Church's "Great Day of Service," a church-wide half day of volunteering. As a writer and book lover, I requested this assignment; I believe in the power of books to educate, entertain, and transform.

I open a letter, read it, and try to find a few books on the shelves to meet the request. Then I package the books, weigh them, and add them to the appropriate group of packages based on weight. Then I choose another letter to read.

It's a huge task; there are stacks and boxes of letters on a metal shelf, and still more fill paper grocery bags on the floor. I can only do about four or five packages in one sitting, especially when I write a note to the prisoner (which always ends up being a full-fledged letter taking both sides of one sheet). There are only about four of us fulfilling requests. It's like bailing a flooded basement with a thimble. The standard message on the strip of paper that gets inserted into a book in every package asks the prisoner to wait at least five months before requesting more books.

Some of them want westerns, sci-fi, or fantasy; others want educational materials, like GED study books or accounting textbooks; still others want books on foreign language instruction or self-improvement. Most of the letters are well-written, with correct spelling, punctuation, and grammar. Most are in legible cursive handwriting. All express deep appreciation for the work of Books to Prisons.

A good number say they have no friends or family to visit them and no money or way to buy books. I choose the thickest books in the best condition I can find for them. Five months is a long time to wait for something else to occupy one's mind.

I have always felt slightly ambivalent about prison ministries. How much should we improve the living conditions of those who have stolen from, raped, or killed other people? How much sympathy should we feel towards criminals in solitary confinement when we don't know what landed them there?

Overall, though, I think that the loss of freedom, identity, friends, and a future, is probably plenty punishing even under the best of prison conditions. Giving them a Louis L'Amour novel is not going to coddle them. And if we are truly concerned about recidivism, then maybe sending a requested book to improve their minds or gain some personal insight is just a tiny investment in the future of all of our safety.

I recently went through all my books at home, gleaning the surplus from the still-treasured. Not only did I have books on shelves in my office and bedroom, but I had stacks of bins full of them in the basement - I have so many books I have to keep some in the basement! And I can walk to Barnes & Noble anytime I want and choose any book from thousands of volumes and buy it on the spot - or go onto Amazon.com in the comfort of my own home, order virtually any book I want from a vast pool of millions, and find it on my doorstep in a couple days. And yet in letter after letter prisoners ask for any book at all because they have no other way of getting one. And they are very, very grateful for that book.

Books to Prisons is housed in our church basement. It's a dimly-lit room with no windows, ringed by tall shelves of worn books. But I can come and go as I please, whereas others are not so fortunate. So the work done in that room is not depressing; it's energizing. Every package assembled in that room directly affects an individual person in a significant way.

So give me that thimble - I've got more bailing to do.