It was a warm summer afternoon when Ms. Charli walked into the local library, her heels clicking softly on the tile floor. Her polished, professional demeanor radiated authority, but beneath the sharp edges was the warmth and care of a Black woman who had seen much and given more. She wore her crown of middle-aged wisdom like armor, her love for her community woven into every fiber of her being.

As she moved through the library, she noticed a young man standing outside, leaning against the building. She’d seen him there before—never inside, always on the edge, like he wanted to go in but something held him back. His clothes were clean but worn, his face shadowed with the kind of seriousness that comes from carrying too much weight too soon. He couldn’t have been more than 16.

Ms. Charlie had learned a lot about the youth in our communities just like this young man in her years of mentoring and mothering. They often felt forgotten, left to drift in a world that didn’t seem to care if they sank or swam. She knew the burden of that feeling, knew what it did to a person. But she also knew the power of connection, of one person reaching out to say, “I see you.”

"Hey there, young man," Ms. Charli said, her voice kind and strong as she approached him. “I see you standing out here a lot. You thinking about coming in?”

The young man shifted uncomfortably, but Ms. Charlie didn’t rush him. She was patient. She waited as he dug his hands deep into his pockets, eyes glancing everywhere but at her.

“Nah… I just hang out here,” he muttered, shrugging like it didn’t matter.

“Well, why don’t you come in today? No need to be a stranger when there’s so much inside waiting for you.”

He hesitated, and Ms. Charli could see the internal battle playing out on his face. Finally, he admitted, almost in a whisper, “I… I don’t know how to read.”

Ms. Charli smiled gently. “Baby, that’s alright. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. We all start somewhere. And the fact that you’re standing out here, thinking about it? That means you’re ready to start.”

The young man blinked at her, as if her words were something he hadn’t expected to hear. There was no pity in her voice, only encouragement. He wasn’t broken; he was simply at the beginning of his own journey.

“Come on,” she said, nodding towards the entrance. “Let’s go inside together. I’ll show you around, and you can meet Mr. Hickman, the librarian. He’s been helping folks around here for years.”

They walked into the library side by side. Inside, the young man looked around, eyes wide but cautious, trying to play his intimidation of all the books cool. The shelves stretched high, filled with books he couldn’t yet read but wanted to. Ms. Charli guided him, pointing out different sections and introducing him to the space like it was his home, which, in a way, it was.

After a short tour, they made their way to the desk, where Mr. Hickman smiled warmly at them. “This young man is ready for his library card,” Ms. Charli said, giving the boy a proud nod.

With his new card in hand, the young man wandered the shelves until he found a book on robots. He couldn’t read the words yet, but the pictures fascinated him, sparking a curiosity he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Ms. Charli sat beside him at a table. “You don’t have to figure it all out today,” she said softly. “Take your time. You have a library card now so the books will be here. They even have an adult literacy class and GED tutoring. There's always help if you just ask. When I’m here volunteering, I’ll be here to help you too along with Mr. Hickman. Learning how to read is just the first step to learning who you are and what you want to do with your life. You’re not alone in this.”

For the first time, the young man smiled—a small, tentative smile—but it was enough. Ms. Charli knew that if he kept showing up, kept believing in himself, he could find his way. That’s what this was all about: showing up, reaching out, and finding a path forward, together.

COMMUNITY CHRONICLES is how we start important conversations our culture needs to have. We make hard truths accessible so we can reach one and teach MANY. Share this short story with your network.