There is this story I heard about Truth, a long, long time ago.
One day, a man asked, “What is truth?”
Right away he heard a knock on the door. When he
opened it, he saw a beautiful woman at his doorstep.
Too surprised to speak, too mesmerized by her
beauty the woman took his hands and said, “I heard you. You wish to know what
is truth.”
He nodded still in awe of her radiance.
“Let us walk then, but do not let go of my hand.”
She spoke.
And so, he did.
He left his house, walked out the gate with her,
strode past the bushes and the trees down the path and across town while people
looked at him and the strange beautiful, brilliant woman. She led her to the
woods and out towards the river until the man got tired and could not walk nor
hold her hand any longer.
He let go of her.
Then she told him, “There. There. That is Truth.”
And then, she vanished.
I often think of this story at times when my implicit biases
and prejudices are challenged. I remind myself that my truth is what I hold
dear but, at any time, I need to let go of my truth. This belief system has
been helpful to me personally and professionally when I conduct work in the
library.
When selecting, reviewing and making decisions to acquire and
purchase books and reading materials for children and young adults, perspective
taking is of utmost importance. There are criteria used for such methods as
learned from the academe. Guidelines and standards from the institution exist
as well. There is truth in these theories and institutional rules, however, I
think about the young readers I teach and converse with and they never cease to
amaze me for their candid and honest take on themselves and the world around
them. So much for holding my truth and the structures of traditional thinking.
With children and young people, the need to seek the truth with them and to
hold it lightly are essentials for growth and survival.
