When I found Perth/Dupont Library after some pleasantly aimless walking, I was struck by how architectually-integrated the branch seemed, as if it had been lovingly tucked into its storefront room by the surrounding community. About the size of Davenport Library, Perth/Dupont’s interior was off-white with olive trim and featured an exposed blue-purple heating duct that snaked around three walls. In the southeast corner, a blue alligator kept watch from a platform above a square column built into the wall. And on a matching platform in the southwest corner, two white teddy bears with red-ribbon bow-ties served as guardians of their domain. Near the centre of the south wall was a heavy hanging wooden frame that supported a large dragon face. This was a very toothy specimen indeed, and its protruding tongue amped up the scare-factor.
Not intimidated by the dragon, I sat at a table between the Portuguese collection and the checkout desk for a few hours, soaking up a typical weekday afternoon at a branch which appeared to be a second home to the families who brought their kids to read and play. When most patrons came in, especially the smallest ones, the librarian greeted them by name. What’s more, she engaged in relaxed conversations with the parents and didn’t become overly officious when a few rambunctious kids crawled inside the paper-back display frames. When the game of chase got wild, mindful moms said, “Remember we were going to practice our inside voices? This is a library, not a playground.”
Even though Perth/Dupont is not technically a playground, I liked how the kids showed a natural sense of ownership; they knew it was their library even if, in their exuberance, they might have made themselves a little too much at home. What better testimony to Perth/Dupont’s genuine welcome to local families and individuals!