By Karen Osburn, Archivist and City Historian
A lot of things have brought childhood to
my attention lately. My friends have
made me an “Honorary Aunt” several times and I find myself spending enjoyable
time shopping in toy stores and book stores looking for the perfect gift for small
friends. I am not a woman who can’t wait
to purchase that perfect little dress or cute little baseball uniform to dress
the new niece or nephew in, but I am the person who can be counted on to
purchase charming stuffed animals, favorite children's books, building blocks,
puzzles, crayons, art supplies and (shudder) things that allow children to make
their own noise! You know drums,
tambourines, whistles, harmonicas and xylophones. I am not the aunt who purchases toys that
need batteries or power supplies, toys that say “moo”, “neigh”, “meow” or that
do the exploration for my young discoverers.
No, I am the aunt that grew up with books, many physical collections,
and a real back yard swing set and teeter- tauter. I am the aunt who discovers and collects! Just ask my niece, Alicia, if you ever meet
her.
Part of the joy of being a child, for me,
was reading books that took me to many imaginary places filled with wondrous
sights and sounds. I could spend an
entire rainy day solving a mystery with Trixie Belden, or on the back of a
Black Stallion with Alex Ramsey, or being in a sunlit forest with Bambi, or
even a space ship created by Robert Heinlein.
I loved books and started to ask “Santa” for them as soon as I could
write my own letters to him. I found out
early that when you ask for books Santa is much less likely to bring you socks
and underwear for Christmas. I guess
Santa is a fan of reading. One of the many
things I collected as a child was books.
It didn’t stop with books though. We had a cottage on Lake Ontario
when I was a child and walking the shoreline led to collections of interesting
stones, interesting driftwood and colorful collections of “lake glass”. My fate was sealed. I would become a collector.
I also collected stuffed animals. I will confess immediately to being an animal
lover from my very first memories. If it
had fur, I loved it. Of course many of
my parent’s friends encouraged me with stuffed dogs, cats and mice, but my
first love was bears! My parents
encouraged toilet training with the irresistible reward of a bear. Bears came home with my father from hunting
camp; he said he found them hiding in trees begging to come home and eat
cookies with me. Very large carnival bears came from my teenage cousin who
managed to win them at games of skill (he must have been between girlfriends
that year). Then, of course, there were
the dogs that came home in lunch pails and stuffed rabbits at Easter.
I am sure you see where this is
going. As a child I not only had a book
collection and collections of interesting lake debris, but a stuffed animal
collection.
These collections were quickly followed
by a new love….HORSES! How could I read
the Black Stallion and not love horses?
I received my first model horse for “being good” when I got my tonsils
out. It was a Hartland black and white
pinto with Cochise as the rider. Cochise
was kept in pristine condition, untouched, while I played with his horse so
often and so intently that I broke the poor thing’s front leg off. My father fixed the leg and we embarked on a
journey of fix, rebreak and repeat, fix, rebreak and repeat that continued
until the small equine figure vanished.
It was about this time I discovered Breyer Horses. A company now in business more than 50 years,
they made beautiful “plastic” horses. My
first Breyers were and appaloosa mare and foal followed, as rapidly as I could
manage, by others. My parents were not
as enthused with this collection. It
required dusting and took up space, something at a premium in our small house
so they were more than a bit discouraging every time I tried to add another
horse to the “stable”, but lucky for me my mother’s friend “Grandma Roberts” sent
me horses for every birthday and Christmas holiday. I keep and treasure those horses today.
Anyway, fast forward to this moment. Do I still collect? Of course!
I am an archivist and a museum worker by avocation and inclination! I still collect books today, some of which
remain from my childhood; and bears, stuffed, carved and painted create a
diorama on my 2nd floor landing; Breyer Horses fill shelf after shelf
in my home jostling agreeably for shelf space with my books ; of course there
is Native American pottery, rugs and baskets; then there are fossils;
interesting shells and stones; and finally (I can’t be too sure about that
though) beads with which I create items I hope others will want to add to their
collections of jewelry.
By now you might be wondering what the
point of this article is. My “Kid
Collections” led me to a career, a lifetime of learning and discovery, helped
me form friendships with people in various walks of life I may not have
otherwise met, and given me endless hours of fascination. I support encouraging children develop
interests and hobbies that lead them to curiosity, creativity and inspire
lifelong learning. Collections can lead
to research, discovery and inspiration that will at least make life more
satisfying even if it doesn’t make one materially rich. This may sound obvious, yet everyday legislators,
tax payers, and bureaucrats question the value of informal education. Just think how desolate life might be without
libraries, museums and the arts. Think
of the topics that fascinate you and where you might go to learn about them if
we didn’t have institutions that are a part of the informal education
network. Imagine saying, “I’m bored,
there is NOTHING to do” because there is nothing to do! Help a child start a collection today!
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