'The 12 o'clock timeslot?" Bogdan Miclaus, a staff member at the University of Guelph's McLaughlin Library, searches his book list. "I've got Black Woman, Canadian Soldier, Lesbian Feminist and Mental Illness." The student at the front of a long line of readers was hoping for Phone Sex Worker.
"Booked out all day."
Unusual titles? Indeed. But the "books" themselves are far from typical. They talk, for starters.
For two days last week, the University of Guelph hosted a "living library" - a collection in which human beings are the books. Thirty-two individuals, many representing marginalized groups, were checked out for 30-minute discussions by curious "readers." Organizers say it was the first event of its kind held on a university campus in Canada, the third in Canadian history.
The concept began in Denmark in 2000. "The whole idea is to sit down with real people and use them to move past a stereotype you might have," co-creator Ronni Abergel said. He wanted to mobilize Danish young people against violence after a friend was stabbed at a nightclub. "The living library works on the principle that extreme violence and aggression happens between people who don't know each other."
It is a theory Mr. Abergel is spreading through the Living Library non-profit organization, which has helped hold events in 27 countries to date, with Brazil, China, Colombia, Cyprus, Malaysia and South Africa expected to participate by the end of 2009. For the Canadian events, he personally consulted with the organizers. Two more are scheduled for Alberta later this month, and Toronto Public Library hopes to launch a pilot project at one of its branches this summer.
In Guelph, the book catalogue touched on many taboo topics, with titles such as Don't Call Me a Homo, HIV Positive and Transsexual Guy.
Perhaps the most brave to be found at the liberal campus: Pro-Life.
For Julia Chapman, editor of the student newspaper and contact for the Guelph event, the Living Library was a natural fit. "There is so much diversity on campus, we felt it important to provide a forum for constructive conversations on contentious issues."
The volunteer "librarians" in charge of checking out books encouraged readers to talk openly about their biases while abiding by essential handle-with-care guidelines: "The reader must return the book in the same mental and physical condition as borrowed. It is forbidden to cause damage to the book, or hurt her or his dignity in any way. The reader is responsible for preserving the condition of the book."
Reader Lisbeth Sider borrowed Sri Lankan Conflict Survivor. "I have very strong views about armed conflict, but I grew up in a culture that hasn't had to deal with war," said the self-defined pacifist who comes from a long line of Ontario Mennonites. "I wanted to talk to someone who has."
And, save for the past two years of life in Guelph, war is all 20-year-old international student Dinuka Gunaratne - the Sri Lankan book - has known. In a busy corner of the normally quiet library, the Sinhalese zoology major recounted a terrifying story of a family trip gone wrong at a cabin in Yala National Park.
"There was a knock. It was a group of Tamil soldiers. They had guns. We were so scared. Our tracker and cook ran away. They lined us up outside in our nightdresses. They were all in their teens. I couldn't believe they were so young," said Mr. Gunaratne, who was just 10 himself at the time.
"One soldier spoke with my mother. He understood her fear and tried to comfort her. He told us he wouldn't hurt us. This, from the Tamils we hear about blowing up buses! He approached us almost like brothers. They didn't want to be there, I know it. Then they burned down the cabin."
