Laura Moulton: Bringing Books to the Streets

Laura Moulton

Laura Moulton writes, teaches and does projects in Portland, Oregon. Her work has taken her into public schools, prisons and shelters and out onto the streets. Participatory projects have featured postal workers, poets, immigrants and women incarcerated at the Coffee Creek Correctional facility. She teaches for Lewis & Clark College, Sitka Center for Art & Ecology and for Literary Arts’ Writers in the Schools program. She earned an MFA from Eastern Washington University.

In 2011, Laura founded Street Books, a bicycle-powered mobile library serving people who live outside and at the margins. It was supposed to be a three-month art project, but at the “end,” a library patron named Keith (who lived in Forest Park) checked out books and said, “See you next week.” Laura realized if she didn’t show, he wouldn’t have a place to return his books. Now it’s 10 years later and Laura is the Executive Director and there’s a whole crew of really stellar people keeping the street library in operation. Laura is co-writing a book about Street Books with Ben Hodgson, a former library patron who now lives indoors and works as a street librarian in Old Town.

Would you explain the basic concept of Street Books? And why you started it?

Street Books is a bicycle-powered mobile library serving people who live outside and at the margins in Portland, Oregon. Bikes carry about 40-50 titles (mostly paperbacks) of all genres and set up the same time and place each week, so that our library patrons know where to find us. Street Books was initially started as a 3-month summer art project after I got a grant from the Regional Arts & Culture Council. I think the initial seed for the idea was planted after a conversation I had with a guy named Quiet Joe, who lived outside. We had a favorite author in common (AB Guthrie) and I wound up gathering a few books for him and giving them to him. Years later, I decided to do a participatory art project that invited a group of people who I figured rarely got included in these sorts of projects. That’s when Street Books was born. I launched it with some trepidation – would people living with so few resources really want a book? But of course, they did. At the end of the three months, I had library patrons asking where they would be able to find me, and I realized that I had to keep it going. I had no idea that more than 10 years later, we’d still be operating, but I’m very glad we are.

 

A New York Times article about Street Books, published in 2014, mentioned that one of the aims of Street Books was to break down the barrier between “us” and “them.” Can you elaborate?

Part of the original concept of the art project that first summer was that I wanted to document with photographs the library patrons with their books of choice. Whatever narrative existed about people living outside, (that they were lazy or using drugs, that it was wholly their fault they were on the street, etc.) I wondered if seeing a library patron holding a book of poetry or say, a novel by Thomas Pynchon, might offer the opportunity to re-think assumptions about people living without shelter. Practically speaking the library has also created opportunities for housed folks to stop through and talk to people who don’t have a fixed address, and some of those conversations are really powerful. We have an annual fall celebration that gathers our library patrons together with the larger housed community for a meal and entertainment and those have also been powerful opportunities for people to talk to one another. Literature and conversation about books have served as a bridge in the Street Books project. Since the very beginning, I’ve never used the term “homeless,” not out of any effort to be politically correct but instead because I felt like the difference between the average library patron and myself was more about access to a house or apartment and a shower. It felt to me that it’s too easy to label a person and discard them, when there is always a more complicated story going on.

 

You’ve been doing Street Books since 2011. What lessons have you learned? What keeps you going?

Man, it’s been such an amazing journey with the Street Books project. So many lessons learned. I think first of all, I’m struck by the resilience and good humor of so many of our library patrons, who face daunting challenges just to survive. I learned early on that if you build something, good people will show up and offer their help and talents. There is no way Street Books would still be in operation if it weren’t for the stellar folks who showed up to be librarians, to volunteer to be on the Board and to help us create a vision going forward. This sense of family in the Street Books team and a solidarity with our library patrons is what keeps me going.

Photo Credit: Christian Science Monitor

If you were to offer one or two pieces of wisdom to someone reading this interview who is thinking of starting their own version of Street Books, what would it be?

I would first tell them that we have a book coming out that touches on this very question! Loaners: The Making of a Street Library is the story of how Street Books came to be, and it documents the friendship between myself and a man named Ben Hodgson who co-writes the book. We met at Skidmore Fountain in 2011 and have been friends ever since. At the time he lived outside in Old Town, but he’s since moved into an apartment and we were able to write a book together that features alternating viewpoints. He is a great writer and I’m glad we were able to capture these stories on the page together. The book features a How-to guide to starting your own street library. More information here:

https://www.perfectdaybooks.com/shop/loaners

I would say that if people are interested in starting their own library, I’d recommend first getting to know their city and what efforts are already being made – sometimes there are solid collaborations that can be created. I’d also emphasize giving folks plenty of space who are living outside – just because I had something to offer didn’t mean they wanted to immediately talk to me or participate. A friendly greeting and curiosity go a long way, but it’s vital that folks are given space and respect. Last thing I’d say is just that it’s important to show up pretty regularly so that people know they can rely on you, so that they have a place to return a book and can check out something new, (one note: during Covid we have stopped with the card/pocket system we were using to reduce contact – now we invite patrons to take a book and have them return it if they’re able, or pass it on to someone who will enjoy it).

 

Street Books targets folks living outside. What have you learned from individuals living without a home?

I’ve been thinking of this a lot because during the pandemic and especially when we were quarantining in our home with our teenagers, we started watching “Alone,” the series about people dropped off in the wilderness (often British Columbia) who have to craft their own shelters and create whatever tools (and food) they can. It struck me that as a culture, we were obsessed with watching people try to survive harsh situations, but when it comes to appreciating the grit and resourcefulness of the folks in the encampment down the block, it’s harder to love the story. I’ve learned that people are tremendously resourceful, despite a system that often fails them from very early in their lives. And I’ve seen the ways people look out for one another when they live outside, extending kindness and assistance despite their own challenges. My biggest takeaway (and this may sound obvious) is that we have a major shortage of affordable housing in Portland and on the west coast. It’s true that there are factors like mental health and addiction that can contribute to a person’s struggles, but our first step should be to ensure that all people have a safe place to call their own.

 

You’re also a college professor at the Northwest Writing Institute at Lewis & Clark College. How has your experience with Street Books influenced your teaching? And vice versa.

I love teaching and it’s been very cool to combine my work at the university (and sometimes high school level) with the Street Books project. I developed a course called “Writing & Service: Documenting Lives in the City” in which students were able to visit the Street Books library in action and talk to library patrons. Their final assignment asked them to interview and document someone’s story and this led to some compelling conversations and final projects. I remember that a Lewis & Clark student was particularly moved after hearing Ben Hodgson read from an essay about his time living outside (which became part of our book Loaners) and the student said, “Now when I see a woman pushing a shopping cart on the street or a guy setting up a tent, I just keep thinking ‘What if they are as funny and smart as Ben Hodgson?’” And of course, the answer is, they are like Ben Hodgson, (whether or not they are as funny or smart). This student saw people living outside in a new light and he couldn’t set them aside as easily as he may have done before. I had a very talented writing student at Marylhurst University who had fought addiction and overcome challenging circumstances to be able to attend college and he was particularly engaged in the Writing & Service class because he knew the streets very well and he wrote very movingly about those experiences.

 

Is there anything else you’d like to say?

Thanks for this opportunity to talk about Street Books and about our new book. This project has taught me to approach people with curiosity and has offered opportunities to extend kindness when I’m able to. The world (and our country) feels extra amplified and harsh right now, and sometimes I think the only thing left for us to do is: Try to be curious and try to be kind.