It
has
been a hard year. A loud year. A year marked
by cruelty dressed
up as policy and indifference framed as
realism. Which is precisely
why, this Christmas, I am urging something
quiet, intentional, and
sustaining: give
a book.
A
book is not just a gift. It is an act of
faith. It says to the
recipient: I
believe you
can think. I believe you can sit with
complexity. I believe your
inner life matters.
In a
culture of scroll, speed, and disposability,
a book resists the
churn. It asks us to slow down, to pay
attention, to stay with an
idea longer than a headline or a hot take.
Books
do something else too. They humanize. They
complicate. They insist on
context. And in a time when public policy
too often reduces people -
especially poor people - to abstractions,
books remind us that behind
every statistic is a story, a family, a
history, a life.
Books
that changed the world
If
this sounds lofty, remember: books have
always changed the world. Not
overnight, and not alone - but decisively.
Uncle
Tom’s
Cabin
helped
galvanize anti-slavery sentiment. The
Communist Manifesto
reshaped labor movements and global
politics. The
Feminine
Mystique
helped
ignite second-wave feminism. The
Fire
Next Time
forced
America to confront the moral urgency of
race. Silent
Spring
transformed
environmental policy. The
Souls
of Black Folk
gave
language to double consciousness and the
unfinished work of
democracy.
Books
don’t just reflect moments; they help create
them. They travel
quietly, hand to hand, across kitchens and
classrooms, through
prisons and parishes, shaping how people
understand what is possible
and what is intolerable. When you give a
book, you are not just
giving pages bound together - you are
placing an idea into
circulation.
Policy
books: gifts that explain how we got here
That’s
why policy books matter, especially now.
They give readers tools
rather than slogans. They connect past
decisions to present outcomes
- housing to wealth, wages to dignity, race
to opportunity. They help
us see that inequality is not an accident or
a natural condition; it
is designed.
A
good policy book does not tell readers what
to think. It shows them
how systems work. It offers context in an
age allergic to it. Giving
a policy book is a way of saying: I
trust your intelligence. I respect your
curiosity. I think you
deserve the full story.
In
a moment when the war on the poor is waged
through fines, fees,
benefit cliffs, and bureaucratic cruelty,
policy books help readers
see punishment masquerading as governance.
They invite us to imagine
different choices - and better ones.
Children’s
books: where imagination begins
For
children, books are even more powerful. They
are mirrors and windows
- ways of seeing themselves and seeing
others. A child who sees
themselves reflected in a book learns,
early, that they belong in the
world of ideas. A child who encounters
difference through story
learns empathy before fear.
Children’s
books that center Black joy, Black
curiosity, Black history, and
Black imagination are especially important.
Too often, Black children
are introduced early to surveillance,
discipline, and diminished
expectations. Books can counter that. They
can introduce wonder
first. Possibility first. Joy first.
A
children’s book is a small object with a
long reach. It shapes
vocabulary, self-concept, and moral
imagination. Long after the toy
breaks or the battery dies, the story
remains.
Books
as quiet resistance
There
is another reason books matter right now:
they resist cruelty. In a
moment when suffering is normalized and
poverty is treated as a
personal failure rather than a policy
choice, books insist on
humanity. They insist that people are more
than categories, more than
costs, more than “undeserving.”
Books
also create shared language. A book passed
from one person to another
becomes a bridge - a reference point, a
conversation starter, a way
of talking across difference without
shouting. That, too, is no small
thing.
So
yes, give a book for Christmas. Give one to
a child. Give one to an
elder. Give one to someone who disagrees
with you. Give one to
someone who is struggling. Give one to
yourself.
In
a season defined by excess, a book is a gift
of intention. In a
culture of forgetting, it is an act of
memory. In a time of cruelty,
it is a small but meaningful kindness.
Books
have changed the world before. They can
still change it again.
Give
a book for Christmas.
