Faith When Hope is Lost: Librarianship in a time of uncertainty.

For me, public librarianship has always been an act of faith. Faith in the transformative power of knowledge.Faith in every person’s right to access information freely. Faith that libraries serve the public good—offering sanctuary, curiosity, and possibility in an ever-changing world.

But what happens when that faith is tested? When library workers face threats for upholding the very values that define our profession—access, intellectual freedom, equity? When policies, politics, or public pressure seek to dismantle the principles that make libraries a cornerstone of democracy? In those moments, hope—the belief that our actions will lead to change—can feel out of reach.

Standing Firm When Hope Falters

There are times in life and work when something cannot be undone, fixed, or made right—at least not in the way we hoped. Maybe a book ban passes, despite impassioned advocacy. Maybe a job is lost for speaking truth. Maybe a community turns its back on the very people who have served it faithfully.

In these moments, we may still believe in equity and access—but no longer believe that our efforts will change the outcome. That’s what it means to have faith without hope: to hold fast to the ethics of librarianship even when the path is obscured, even when the result is unknown.

This kind of faith doesn’t require certainty or control. It asks us to live with mystery. To surrender outcomes. To trust that our work matters—even when its impact is invisible, even when the fight feels endless.

Our Core Values Are Not Conditional

The Core Values of Librarianship aren’t just ideals we aspire to. They are the foundation of our work. Access. Equity. Intellectual Freedom. Privacy. Community Empowerment. Sustainability. These are not values of convenience. They are not meant to be upheld only when it is easy, popular, or safe. They are meant to guide us—especially in times of challenge.

To remain grounded in these principles, even when it comes at a cost, is to practice faith. Not a passive faith, but an active one:One that shows up.One that makes space.One that bears witness to the right of every person to learn, to question, to decide for themselves.

Choosing Love Over Fear

In moments of uncertainty, we always have a choice. We can choose fear—protecting ourselves at the expense of our values.Or we can choose love. Love for our communities. Love for the transformative power of books and ideas. Love for the mission that first called us into this work.

Hope may not always be available. We may not always see the outcome of our courage. But we can still choose to believe in the worth of what we do. We can still stand in the truth that libraries matter—not just as symbolic spaces, but as living institutions that uphold the public’s right to think, to grow, to imagine a future shaped by knowledge and inclusion.

And maybe—just maybe—that act of faith is enough to bring hope a little closer.