Olneyville Community Library: A Safe Haven for Patrons

Emma Madgic

Illustration by Camilla Watson

November 4, 2022

This piece was written in March 2021.

Sandwiched between Stokes Street and Diamond Four C’s, so close to La Lupita you can smell onions and carnitas sizzling on a warm night, there is a dilapidated red brick building. A red sign alerts passerby to what’s inside: the Olneyville Community Library.

The building looks unassuming, but don’t be fooled: inside is a bustling hub for parents, children, English learners, artists, and everyone in between. Here at Olneyville Community Library, there’s something for everyone.

Tanya Diaz is working at one of the computers the library provides for free to visitors. Diaz has been here every day this week, applying for jobs in customer service and for government subsidized housing in Boston. She doesn’t have a laptop at home, and hasn’t had a job since the pandemic began.

Marc Anselmi walks in and goes straight to the front desk, where he asks for information on prion, an abnormally folded protein that can trigger disease in animals and humans. Anselmi, a regular at the Olneyville Community Library, speaks in a harsh whisper but is a kind man, says library manager Joseph Morra. Anselmi’s two favorite subjects are botany and poetry, and he has helped the peace lilies in the library flourish. He’s a sucker for children’s movies, and checks one out almost every time he visits the library.  

Amanda Kathryn, a spritely young woman with tattoos covering her arms, sits at another computer. She signs in using her middle name, Kathryn, instead of her last name because she has an abusive ex-boyfriend who she’s afraid will find her if her first and last name are printed. She’s relatively new to the Olneyville Library — she moved to Olneyville in 2019. Today, she’s crafting her first resume.

This library isn’t quiet. In fact, Morra insists that libraries are supposed to be loud. “This is the library of 2021, and libraries are supposed to be boisterous, energetic, and loud, and that’s what we have here,” Morra says.

Morra takes care to learn everyone’s name who comes through the doors. He jots down notes for Mr. Anselmi’s particular requests, which he uses to comb through the library’s catalog to help the inquisitive man find what he needs. He assists Ms. Diaz when she gets a bounce-back email for one of her job applications. He is patient with Ms. Kathryn as she constructs her resume, allowing her extra time past the allotted 30 minutes when there’s no one else in line for the computers. Ms. Kathryn suffers from dyslexia and has trouble reading and formatting her writing correctly, so Morra helps her through the process.

Ultimately, people aren’t going to remember the books they read or the movies they watch, Morra explains. But they will remember the human connections they make.

“I want to know my patrons,” Morra said. “And I want them to feel at home here.”  

It’s a delicate balance, Morra explains, helping patrons without being too forthcoming. Morra and the other staff tend to be very hands-on, asking questions and steering patrons to books and programs before they ask. However, it’s a reciprocal relationship: “You meet the patron where they are. You don’t force yourself on them. They lead you,” Morra says.

Morra has worked in the nonprofit sector for over 20 years; his work in Olneyville began in 2009 when he started as a Project Manager with United Way, which is a couple blocks away on Valley Street. After 10 years there he received offers from several Providence Community Library branches, including the Olneyville branch, for a manager position. He chose to stay in Olneyville.

“I felt like I had more work to do here,” Morra says.

Today the library has a staff of three. Joseph Morra is manager, Toni Garcia is Youth Services Specialist, and Fidelia Sok is library clerk. Garcia and Sok are fluent in Spanish, and Morra speaks enough to get by.

Olneyville is an incredibly diverse community, with nearly 65% identifying as Hispanic, 11% as Black, and 8% as mixed race or other minority. The median household income is just $30,437 compared to the state median of $67,167, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.

This is reflected in the library’s patronage, which is composed of many Spanish-speaking and bilingual people. The library also is home to a significant nonbinary and LGBTQ+ community.

Identity absolutely plays a role in how a library is run, Morra explains. No two libraries offer the same services to patrons because needs vary so widely. “Each library has its own thumbprint based on the neighborhood in which it exists,” Morra says.

In the window are paper cut-out butterflies and fluffy flowers made from bunched-up, brightly colored felt. A large poster board reads, “Celebrate Spring!” in block lettering. The window display is crucial, Morra explains. It helps to bring people in who might not know the library exists.

Lining the walls are books on display: Zombies Don’t Eat Veggies, Soñadores, and Yo Soy Muslim. Several pink flowers bloom on the windowsill, a splash of color against the faded surroundings outside the window. Several handouts sit atop the bookshelf:

“Having trouble paying your heating bill? Our low-income home energy assistance program could help.”

“Being forced to share your passwords is domestic abuse. Know the signs.”

A security guard sits at the front entrance of the library every afternoon from 2:30-5:30pm. Library Safety Ambassadors — as Morra likes to call them — welcome people, ensure clients are wearing their masks properly, and, every hour or so, walk a loop around the library building, checking the cars in the parking lot to make sure there’s nothing suspicious going on. They help foster a sense of security for the clients in the building, Morra explains.

Olneyville is considered Providence’s most dangerous neighborhood based on an analysis of crime data released by the FBI in 2020. In 2021 so far, there have been 38 reports of violent crime, 115 reports of property crimes, and 194 reports of other crimes in District 5, which includes Olneyville, according to Providence Police reports. 20% of citywide violent crime reports have occurred in District 5.

Residents of Olneyville, especially families, describe the library as a much-needed safe spot.

“[Coming here] keeps me from thinking about what’s going on out there, you know what I’m saying? You can get lost in a book…and for that short time, it just makes you feel normal,” Kathryn says.

Tanya Diaz lives in Providence public housing on Hartford Avenue, a few blocks from the library. According to Diaz, music blares from Thursday to Monday, people drink excessively, and there are dangerous car races outside her apartment. She doesn’t feel safe bringing her four-year-old outside, unless they are going to the library.

Due to pandemic restrictions, residents are only permitted 30 minutes in the library at a time. Diaz used to come at least once a week with her son to read books together. Now that the time is limited, Diaz no longer brings her son and instead picks up books to take back to her apartment. “[My son] likes being in the atmosphere at the library, and he gets frustrated if he can’t stay longer,” Diaz says. “So it’s easier to just bring books back.”

The library’s safety extends outside its doors. Amanda Kathryn always walks to the Metro PCS by the library when she pays her phone bill, even though it’s a little further than the Metro PCS on the corner of Academy and Chalkstone. “I know that if something were to happen outside and I would yell, I know that Joseph would come out and make sure I’m okay,” Kathryn says. She knows this because one time she was in the library when a girl started screaming outside. Morra immediately ran outside to see what was the matter.

Olneyville Community Library, formerly known as Olneyville Free Library, opened in 1875 in an upstairs room at 12 Hartford Avenue. In 1890, the library moved to the south side of Olneyville Square, and in 1920 it became a branch of Providence Public Libraries. In 1981, the library closed due to financial difficulties; in March of 1990 it reopened at 1 Olneyville Square, where it has been ever since.

In one corner sits a rack of books labeled “Book Sale”. Hardcovers are $1 each. Paperbacks are 50 cents apiece or 3 for a dollar. The money that comes in from such sales, usually $20 or $30 per month, is used to help fund the programs the library provides to its patrons, the vast majority of which are free.

Garcia, who has been with the Olneyville library since 1999, worked for 20 years to develop meaningful programs that specifically target Olneyville’s youth. Every spring Garcia leads a program in which children receive their own mini flower pot and choose between various vegetable seeds, such as tomatoes and cucumbers, to plant. It teaches them how to take care of something, says Garcia.

Each Mother’s Day Garcia leads a jewelry-making workshop for kids to make earrings and necklaces for their moms. These children often don’t have enough money to buy a gift themselves, Garcia says, so the workshop is especially meaningful.

Halloween is one of Garcia’s favorite holidays. In Olneyville most parents don’t allow their children to trick-or-treat because it’s too dangerous, so the library hosts a costume contest and party, drawing between 60 and 100 kids. Garcia hands out candy to the delighted children.

Pre-COVID, kids used to stream into the library every afternoon, straight from school, to use the computers, receive homework help, participate in educational programming, and browse for books. Morra reserved a corner for them to park their bikes and scooters; he didn’t want them getting stolen outside. At closing — 5:30pm most days — there would usually be children who hadn’t gotten picked up. Garcia, Sok, and Morra would wait or phone the parent; they would never leave a child alone outside after hours.

The children are what keep Garcia coming back, day after day, for over 20 years. “If it weren’t for the kids, I wouldn’t be here this long,” she says. “They keep me going.”

With the pandemic still raging, all her activities have gone virtual, and it’s rare to see a child in the library, Garcia explains wistfully. “I’m a people person,” she said. “That’s something I truly miss.”

Under normal circumstances, the library collaborates with various organizations to offer unique programs to its patrons. In February 2019 the library collaborated with the Manton Avenue Project, a playwriting organization for children, to develop a two-week after-school program in which children grades 4 through 12 wrote plays that professional actors and musicians performed. The theme was a poetry-centered play, so Morra taught a class at the library on poetry, showing kids examples of different styles of poetry written by a diverse group of authors.

“The whole process was magical,” Morra said. “Truly magical.”

The vast majority of the kids who enroll in these programs are of low socioeconomic status. Many, such as Diaz’ children, live in nearby public housing projects. The programs’ benefits are twofold: not only do they provide a safe place for the kids to go after school and stay out of trouble, but they also offer crucial enrichment and learning opportunities that children wouldn’t have access to otherwise.

Morra emphasizes, however, that Olneyville childrens’ circumstances do not define them; rather, it’s their eagerness, creativity, and excitement that make them unique. That’s what a librarian must capitalize on, Morra explains.

Olneyville Library has still been able to hold numerous events and programs for its children during the COVID-19 pandemic. The library is collaborating with the Woonasquatucket River Watershed Council, which secured grant funding in early 2021 to build a rain vessel sculpture in the parking lot across the street from the library.

The library will hold two workshops, on April 21 and 28, for the children to make clay charms, such as turtles and birds, to hang on the rain sculpture.

The library also offered in-person summer camps last summer in the library “backyard”— a concrete, fenced-in parking lot. Olneyville is the only Providence library that doesn’t have any green space, Morra says, which makes it impossible to engage in many traditional enrichment activities, such as bug hunts or nature photography.

Despite these limitations, Garcia and Morra worked tirelessly to provide an engaging experience for campers. Last summer, children participated in mask-making workshops and designed their own tie-dye shirts. For younger campers, Garcia set up padded blankets in the parking lot so they would be comfortable for storytelling activities.

For Kathryn, the Olneyville library is how she connects with her four kids, who range from 10 to 15 years old. She moved to Providence in 2019 with her fiance, but her four children are still in Texas staying with a family friend. She hopes that by leaving them behind, she is offering them the best opportunity to be successful. She chokes up as she talks about them — she misses them dearly. Kathryn, who has suffered severe mental health issues and lived on the streets for much of the past five years, knows that they are better off with her friend, at least for now.

Kathryn is getting her life back together in Rhode Island — she’s living in an apartment with her fiance and getting treatment for her mental health problems — and hopes to reunite with her kids soon. To stay connected with her children in the meantime, Kathryn comes to the library and picks out books and movies she thinks they’ll like, and either asks her children to read them to her over Facetime with her, or instructs them to check out the same books from their local library. Today, Kathryn checks out His Dark Materials, a sci-fi show she thinks her oldest son, Isaia, will enjoy.

Kathryn suffers from dyslexia, which makes reading and writing difficult. She likes the library because she doesn’t feel judged or embarrassed asking for help. When asked why she keeps coming back to the library, Kathryn doesn’t hesitate: it’s the people who work here.

Anselmi and Diaz agree.

A library is so much more than brick and mortar. “The resources, both physical and human, are what make this library so special,” Morra says.

As Morra discusses the library, he’s bittersweet: he will be leaving Olneyville Community Library on Wednesday April 21.

He has accepted an Assistant Library Director position in his hometown, Attleboro, Massachusetts, which he will be starting at the end of April. Morra did his practicum at the Attleboro Public Library, so it’s familiar turf.

Olneyville has not yet hired another library manager, so for the foreseeable future, Garcia and Sok will have to hold down the fort.

It’s been his dream to direct a library, Morra explains, and to have that opportunity in his hometown, at a library where he has experience, was impossible to turn down. Still, Morra says, it will be incredibly difficult to leave Olneyville.

What will Morra miss?

His team — Garcia and Sok. The collaborative spirit of the community. Anselmi, Diaz, and Kathryn, among others. But most of all?

“The laughter,” Morra said. After all, a library is supposed to be loud.