Louisiana Voice

I have written quite a bit over the past several months about the attacks on public and school libraries by a reactionary conservative outfit calling itself by the somewhat questionable title Citizens for a New Louisiana and its leader, one Michael Lunsford.

I suggest the name of the organization is questionable because it appears the Lafayette-based outfit, supported by the Rapepublican Party elite doesn’t advocate a “new” Louisiana so much as its efforts are geared to a return of the old Louisiana where minorities and women are relegated to their former status of being effectively barred from the decision-making process considered the exclusive province of White men.

And it’s natural to initiate those efforts by limiting enlightened readership via the censoring of books (for now, at least, though it’s only a matter of time until efforts will be expanded to media in general) and dictating what versions of history may be taught. As for that last part, it’s already started as some lawmakers are openly advocating the expunging of mentions of slavery, Native American genocide, women’s suffrage and labor exploitation from history courses.

Any insurrection must first begin with the control of information and current efforts to rewrite history are no different.

I say all this as a means of introducing a story I stumbled across online. It’s a story of unwavering courage and commitment to one’s principles that are such rare commodities to be found in our elected leaders today on every level—local, state and federal.

It’s a story about a woman I’d never heard of but one everyone should know about and emulate.

KATHLEEN FOLSOM McILWAIN was just a librarian in Pascagoula, Mississippi. She was appointed head librarian of the Jackson County and Pascagoula Library in 1962. At the time she was named, the library had 25,000 volumes and a bookmobile that made 400 stops a month. Today, its system has 260,000 volumes in its eight-library system and ready access to the global digital world of information.

Okay, nothing unusual or unique so far.

But stop and think. It was 1962 and it was in Mississippi and Pascagoula was more than just the birthplace of one Jimmy Buffett; it was a typical Mississippi town where prejudice and white supremacy were the rules of life. Her appointment was the same year that riots broke out at after federal marshals forced Ole Miss to admit James Meredith.

Only two years after that, three civil rights workers, James Chaney, Adrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner, were brutally murdered 150 miles to the north, in Neshoba County.

As one might imagine, Blacks were unwelcome in places normally reserved for Whites. That included public libraries.

Kathleen Folsom McIlwain apparently didn’t get the memo. Without fanfare or drama, she simply opened the library doors to all, believing that libraries were for everyone.

That sounds simple enough but in 1962 Mississippi, there was something called the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission that was eerily reminiscent to George Orwell’s futuristic novel 1984. The commission spied on civil rights activists in much the same manner as ICE monitors suspected illegal immigrants today. The KKK had a nasty habit of burning crosses under the cover of darkness as cowards generally do.

The Sovereignty Commission, which was an official state agency and not some fringe group (Louisiana had one, too), took notice that Blacks were allowed to sit, read and check out books from the Pascagoula Library and it was not happy.

Ms. McIlwain paid a price for her courage. People stopped talking to her. She was harassed and threatened by the Klan. She received hate mail. But she would not back down.

A documentary about her said she was not a civil rights activist nor was she a politician. She was merely a librarian. She didn’t make speeches or lead marches. She simply opened the doors—and kept them open. Her reputation was left in shambles in her hometown. But she never closed those doors.

And she lived to see the Gautier, Ms., Public Library bear the name KATHLEEN McILWAIN PUBLIC LIBRARY OF GAUTIER in her honor.

THAT DOCUMENTARY, by the way, was compiled by two of her great-grandchildren, Ruby Murray and Folsom Berry and it won first place at the Mississippi National History Day competition and was displayed at the Smithsonian Museum—obviously before Donald Trump had the opportunity to erase any semblance of Black history from the Smithsonian.

With everything to lose as a white in a world of white supremacy, she stood tall, showing us courage doesn’t always appear as a revolution. Sometimes, it’s just a librarian who refuses to close doors.

Kinda makes you wonder how Mike Lunsford and his Citizens of a New Louisiana would have reacted had they been dropped into 1962 Pascagoula.