Setting: Modern Day, but changes over time

 

The library was quiet. As all libraries should be. But Emma’s mind was loud. Her thoughts raced as she skipped through her history book, notes scattered all around her. She grumbled as she stopped to write on one of her notecards. 

 

The librarian pushed a cart with returned books in the aisle next to her. She quickly glanced at Emma, who looked lost in thought, before going back to set the books into place. The shuffle of pages was the only thing that could be heard in the library. Another hour passed before Emma started tapping her foot in frustration. 

 

“You know, there are other ways to be loud in a library besides talking,” the librarian said. Emma jumped at the words and stopped her tapping. She turned to her left to see the librarian looking at her. 

 

“I'm sorry,” Emma said softly. The librarian smiled at her and pulled a chair before sitting down next to her. 

 

“Don't be,” the librarian replied. “But you seem…stressed. Are you studying for a test?” 

 

Emma turned back to look at her notes, shaking her head. 

 

“No, it's for a project, but there's something I don't get.” Emma began. “What's so great about The Enlightenment? I mean, why do we have to learn about it? I would rather be something else besides spending my Saturday stuck here.” Emma sank into her chair and sighed. 

 

The librarian said nothing. Instead she reached out to look at Emma's notes, shuffling through a few decks before setting them neatly on the wooden table. 

 

“You know,” the librarian began, “the Enlightenment was the guide for many thinkers later on. It was and will continue to be a defining moment in human history.” 

 

Emma turned to face the librarian. She had long, brown hair that fell from her sweater. Her eyes were a light brown, and she had a gentle smile on her lips. Emma looked back at her notes. 

 

“I guess,” she said. “But that doesn’t make this project anymore fun.” The librarian gave a small laugh and grabbed the pencil she had resting on her ear. Or at least it was at first. Emma saw how the pencil narrowed in shape and adopted a mustard color. It almost looked like a wand. 

 

“What-” Emma said before the librarian tapped her notes with the wand. The book shelves, tables, and floor tiles began lifting around her. There was a woosh of light that circled them. Her notes dissipated into the atmosphere before Emma could grab onto anything solid. Before she could yell or scream, the room stood still once more.

 

They were in a different room now. It was a wooden room with tables and chairs made of a similar material. The librarian stood next to Emma, her smile unwavering and turned to face her. 

 

“Welcome to France!” the librarian exclaimed. Emma stared at her incredulously. France? How? Once more, Emma’s mind was a bullet train of thoughts. She looked around the room again. It looked nothing like the fancy pictures of french hotels she had seen in the dentist office’s magazines. 

 

“France?” Emma asked. She was still disoriented from the “trip” over and kept looking around the room. 

 

“Yes, we should be in the 1780s or so.” The librarian responded. She was still as composed as ever. Her clothes remained unwrinkled and her hair had magically tied into a bun. 

 

“We should get going before we miss it.” Emma looked at the library confused. Miss what? She stayed where she was and looked at the librarian with a puzzled expression. The librarian, as if reading her mind, smiled once more. 

 

“You said there was no point in studying the Enlightenment. I’m here to show you why it matters more than you think.” Emma said nothing, before looking out the window. A carriage passed by, followed by the indistinct chatter of people. People passed dressed in everything from elaborate gowns to tattered clothing. I’m a far way from home, Emma thought. She finally turned to face the librarian. 

 

“So if I follow you I will go home?” a tinge of nervousness in her voice.   

 

“Of course! This is supposed to be a trip not a punishment,” The librarian said carefree. They finally walked out into the cobblestone filled streets and Emma gawked at the world before her. A church bell rang in the distance while Emma and the librarian made their way through the street to an unknown location, at least that’s how Emma saw it. The people, surprisingly, paid no mind to the pair, and while some passed through prim and proper, others seemed to be hard at work. Again, as if reading her mind, the librarian began to talk. 

 

“Don’t worry, they can’t see us. But do avoid any animals. They can certainly sense us,” The librarian said without turning to face Emma. 

 

At last, they reached their destination. A building with a nicer exterior than the one they had arrived from greeted them. People began piling in, mostly men in white wigs. Some didn’t have them, but it made Emma giggle nonetheless. 

 

Inside, paintings hung from the walls. Long, elaborated curtains draped on each side of the windows, allowing the afternoon light to shine on the paintings. Those inside gathered in a circle and began talking. The librarian stood by Emma near one of the windows. Interestingly enough, they cast no shadow and didn’t obstruct the light emitting from the window. 

 

A man's voice pulled Emma from her thoughts. He walked towards the center of the room and called everyone to attention.

 

“I ask, if we are to truly understand this world,” He began, “we cannot blindly accept what the Church tells us.” 

 

A woman sitting on the far right of the room calls out. “Then who are we supposed to listen to? Do you propose we take guesses?” Some people nod and turn once more to the man, awaiting an answer. 

 

“One must simply observe the world around them. When I drop a stone into the river, I know gravity exists. I do not need scripture to tell me.” Murmurs erupt in the room. Some agree with the man and others seem reserved, maybe even taken aback. 

 

“Are you saying you don’t have faith?” The woman retorts. 

 

“Faith has its place, but our experiences and reason are what truly allows us to test what is true,” the man replies. 

 

“Wait, aren’t they literally describing Empiricism?” Emma asks the librarian. 

 

“Yes, the idea that truth comes from observation and experience, not blind acceptance, as that man just explained.” 

 

Emma once again turned her attention to conversations in the room. She was drawn by the overlap of opinions. Some talked about experiments, which reminded her recent chemistry test. Others mentioned tradition and deemed it unreliable. Emma couldn't help but think of her school traditions, some better than others. 

 

Suddenly, the room began dissolving and they were outside. A man on a raised platform called everyone to attention. The small crowd became a multitude as some royal guards stood to the side, eyeing the man cautiously. Before Emma could see where the librarian had gone. The man yelled out.

 

“A ruler who governs through fear only invites chaos! Without order, life becomes nothing but short and brutal!” The crowd whispered to each other. 

 

A man next to Emma called out to the man on the platform. 

 

“So we just give up our rights?” He said incredulously. Others joined him shouting at the man on the platform. 

The man on the platform thought for a minute before speaking once more. 

 

“Protection requires authority to be effective. That authority can be used to protect those rights you mention, sir. Life, liberty, and freedom! A king cannot give us what is ours by nature!”

 

At that, the crowds erupted into cheers. Still, some voiced concerns about possible reform. A few individuals walked off, scoffing at the man in the center of the square. 

 

“Hobbes,” the librarian said, startling Emma. “He feared disorder. John Locke believed the government must protect rights. And Jean-Jaques Rousseau argued that power comes from the people themselves. This is not too different from the United State’s modern democracy.”

 

“I can never pronounce Rousseau’s name,” Emma said. The librarian laughed, but Emma kept on looking at the crowd of people. Some guards had begun pushing through the crowd of people, trying to reach the man on the platform. When they finally reached the center, they dragged the man off. Papers fell from his coat pockets while he struggled against the guard's grip. The crowd parted to let the guards through. Some onlookers argued for his release when one of the guards spoke. 

 

“He mocked our king and his authority! We will not stand for this!” The man continued struggling before he was sat on a wagon and taken in the direction of the castle. The crowd looked on and dispersed before the guards dared to return and take more people. 

 

“Where are they taking him?” Emma asked exasperated. The librarian’s face turned grim and shook her head. 

 

“Somewhere in the castle’s dungeons.” 

 

“Can’t we help him get out? With your… powers?” The librarian eyed Emma amused. 

“Lets call a carriage then!” 

 

“I thought you said they couldn’t see us.” 

 

“They don’t.” The librarian smiled again and helped Emma get into a carriage that had magically appeared before them. The carriage moved for a few minutes before stopping suddenly. 

 

“We’re here!” 

 

“That was quick.” Emma said. However, when she stepped out, they were in a completely different city. Smoke filled the air, and the streets were dull and gray. The clothes of the people on the street were even more tattered and worn than the ones they had seen before. This time, the sound of mechanical gears and ships announcing their arrival filled Emma’s ears. 

 

“Where are we now?” Emma asked, slightly irritated that they had not gone to help the man from the town square. 

 

“England, or well, Great Britain, during its first industrial revolution.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Well, when Adam Smith’s, Wealth of Nations, was first published, he argued against mercantilism. He believed a laissez-faire economy would prosper, without the influence of the government. And so, the Industrial Revolution prospered by the people’s need to follow their own self-interest in commerce.” The librarian said, gesturing to the factories sitting on the river’s edge. 

 

“So they built factories in order to sell more and get more money, out of their own interest,” Emma reasoned. 

 

“Yes, and it's important to acknowledge the self-interest of people, because this type of economy did not benefit those that needed it most. Look,” the librarian motioned to workers exiting grimly from the factory, their eyes sunken and tired. “Workers suffered greatly in these factories.” 

 

“Isn’t this the opposite of what Karl Marx wanted though?”

“Exactly, when Marx wrote the Communist Manifesto, he heavily criticized capitalism and pointed out the economic inequality that resulted from it.”

 

“Wait,” Emma said, recalling her notes on the origins of communism. “Marx said that if the working class could control all the assets in the economy, then communism would be born, and social division would end.” The librarian smiled and clapped. 

 

“I’m glad to see that you have been paying attention in school! Also, key word: Proletariat. It’s another way to describe the working class if you want to be fancy.” 

 

Emma laughed, but it was caught short when she slammed into a dock post. The librarian quickly caught her and chuckled. 

 

“Careful.” Emma hadn’t noticed when they started walking during their conversation but now they were near the docks. 

 

“Thankfully, I didn’t walk into the water,” she said. The librarian laughed again. They faced a boat, which was loading products from the factory nearby. The librarian began walking up the steps and gestured to Emma to do the same. Once they boarded the boat, a crewmate called out to the men on the dock and untangled the ropes holding the ship in place. 

 

“One last stop,” the librarian said. The slow rock of the boat had Emma gripping onto the sides. A dense fog began descending into the ship until Emma could see nothing farther than her outstretched hand. Emma closed her eyes, feeling them get teary with the smog. She opened them again after a few minutes, the smog dissipating and giving way to a small town. The buildings along the edge of the river they sailed on were made of red bricks, and looked almost like toy houses. Where were they?

 

“Seneca Falls, New York!” The librarian beamed. Emma wished she would stop doing that. Regardless, she looked on to the town that lay along the river's edge. Once they got off, the librarian walked with her until they reached a building. There were already people inside and they seemed to be in high spirits. 

 

A woman in the center of a stage was speaking. Emma didn’t catch the first part of her speech, but arrived just in time for the last part.

 

“We are not asking to replace men, but to be considered equals alongside them!” The women in the crowd cheered. The men present scowled or stayed quiet. Emma saw the posters at either side of the wall behind the woman. Join the National Women’s Suffrage Association! Emma thought back to the display in France and Great Britain, the women had not been the ones speaking all too much. She figured class and education had something to with it. 

 

Another woman spoke up from the crowd. Her voice was tainted with nervousness, but also courage. “I taught myself to read by candlelight after working twelve hours in a mill. My education should not make me unfit to be a good wife!” More women cheered and spoke amongst themselves. 

 

“Twelve!” Emma yelled. “I can barely stay in school for eight!” A smile tugged at the librarian’s lips. She quickly composed herself. 

 

“After the industrial revolution, women entered the workforce to be able to feed their families for half the pay of men, and yet, society deemed it a sign of progress if women didn’t work at all.” 

 

“They have a very funny definition of progress,” Emma scoffed. Before the librarian could respond, a man yelled out. 

 

“A respectable wife is not a working wife. My earnings should be more than enough.” A few men in the crowd chuckled, but the woman at the center stage spoke up again. 

 

“What about those women who do not have that luxury? Sir, I am sure your wife is lucky to have a hardworking gentleman such as yourself, but those who work should not be treated any less due to their labor.” The man went silent. 

 

“Decades ago, Mary Wollstonecraft wrote that women were not naturally inferior,” the speaker continued. “She argued that denying us education only ensures ignorance. If we are to contribute to society, we must first be allowed to think.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “A Vindication of the Rights of Woman,” she whispered. “We talked about that in class.” The librarian nodded again and looked on to the stage. The speaker was preparing for a new topic. 

 

“Now, we have gathered here today to discuss our right to vote as citizens of this country. If laws govern us, we have the right to cast a vote along with our husbands, brothers, fathers, uncles, and friends!” The women cheered on. However, some men were dragging their wives out, rage painted on their faces. Emma couldn’t help but cheer with the women. 

 

At that moment, she realized something. France, Great Britain, the United States, and surely many more countries around the world were fighting, and passing on the ideas that would eventually reach the modern time. 

 

“So this is why it matters,” Emma said at last. The librarian dropped on one knee and looked at her. 

 

“You’re a good student,” the librarian said warmly. Emma couldn’t help but smile.

 

“And what does that make you?” Emma asked. The sounds of the voices in the room slowly dissipating. 

 

“This isn’t about me,” the librarian said as she slowly rose from the floor. She flicked her wand into the air, sparkles falling from the tip and raining down. The bookshelves came back into view. The wooden table containing Emma’s notes appeared once more as if they had never left. The library was dimmer now too. 

 

“I want to go back!” Emma yelled out, much to the librarian’s surprise. 

 

“Sshhh,” the librarian said gently, “We’re in a library.” Emma looked around and noticed that more people entered the library. She even recognized one of her classmates, which Emma was quick to avoid eye contact with. The librarian looked at her and sighed. 

 

“If,” the librarian began. Emma immediately turned to face her, a sparkle in her eyes. 

 

“If you do well on your project, we can visit another time period,” the librarian said. Emma nodded with glee.

 

“Okay!” She said a little too loud. Now some people had turned to face her and the librarian. Emma shrunk back and whispered sorry. The librarian turned to resume her tasks when Emma called out once more. 

 

“So who should I ask for when I come back?” Emma asked.

 

“Ms. Starite,” the librarian responded. Once more she turned away from Emma, her long brown swaying gently.