green valley is the place for me

It is not simply a sign of my frugality that the majority of the books in my library were purchased at the Green Valley Book Fair. What was once a small warehouse filled with heavily discounted publisher’s returns and overstock books is now a 25,000 square foot complex just south of Harrisonburg, Virginia. The book fair is only open six times a year, for 2-week periods; when not living in the area, I plan my visits around its schedule. Although it is a bit disheartening to go there as a writer—all those unwanted, and thus unloved books—I am delighted to walk off, once again, with an armload of $3 and $4 books. (Having just muddled through my first self-employment tax return, I also consoled myself that the bill will serve as a tax write-off.)

The titles are eclectic. If readers of Christian fiction aren’t watchful, for example, they might wander into the paranormal romance section, which is housed, however unintentionally, next to those texts that, although short on both content and theology, are buoyed up by misguided piety and the marketing efforts of the Christian publishing industry. You can also pick up a copy of Lolita, or Native Sun, or a Spanish–English dictionary, so it is safe to say that nearly everyone can to achieve literary contentment.

Today was opening day at the book fair, and the aisles were a crush of customers. It is a purely democratic affair, and it is fun to see what others carry about in their shopping baskets—Origin of the Species and a coin-collecting manual for one customer, Going Rouge for another. Two ladies had braved the crowds to buy children’s books and sundry items, presumably for their children or elementary-aged students. Upon entering the adult fiction and reference section, one groaned in distaste. “Oh, these are the reading books,” she said. “That’s not for me.” Her companion concurred, and declared that if she ever was to actually read such books, she’d get a Kindle. “It’s just too much to mess around with book books,” she said, and breezed toward the cash register.

reading, writing, 'rithmetic

In mid-February I attended Teach For America's 20th Anniversary Summit. Numbers, specifically statistics, have a simple, concrete heft to them, and were spotted and cited frequently throughout the conference. Teach For America's genesis story, for example, speaks not of seven days, but of the growth that has occurred since 1990, when the organization's founder, a then-21-year-old Wendy Kopp, launched a program with 489 inaugural corps members. In 2010, 8,200 of 46,000 applicants were selected to teach in 39 regions throughout the country. 

A few numbers, then, gleaned from the conference:

• Nearly 75% of students at the country's top highly selective colleges (146 of them) come from families at the highest quartile of the socioeconomic scale.
• 80% of low-income students are deeply impacted by an inability to afford college.
• Changes to the Federal Application for Federal Student Aid enabled 750,000 additional applicants to receive financial assistance for higher education. The IRS commissioner who worked to streamline the application process is a Teach For America alumnus.
• A friend of mine who taught in a low-income school in South Dakota reports that 10 of her former students are currently serving in the infantry in Afghanistan.