Originally, I was going to write about the new direction of our long-awaited library, and whether getting all tech-savvy was in Parker’s best interest.

But if you know me, you know I get distracted easily. So when I was researching the new library, I ended up, at least at first, elsewhere.

I started reading about reading. Books, specifically. Did you know that the first ones were found in the ancient Mesopotamian city of Nineveh? 20,000 clay tablets with stories etched onto them. What really amazed me, though, was how so much time, detail, and care were taken in the Dark Ages (476-800 CE) in the copying of historical manuscripts. Not only that, but how people would do everything possible to protect these texts, merely dried slabs of stone, from the elements.

I spiraled from there.

Times are changing. Libraries, places once solely devoted to preserving and circulating books, are now turning into collaborative spaces decked out with 3D printers, laser cutters, and whatever new state of the art technology you’ll find 3rd graders destroying this upcoming year. We as a society, specifically as a school, are moving forward into the future and not looking back.

But that got me to thinking. What really are the consequences, intended or unintended, of moving our libraries into the digital information age?

Ancient people sacrificed so much to keep all those tablets and scrolls and books safe from harm so they could be passed on. Are physical books really not as important anymore, now that their contents occupy some invisible plane we can access with a click of a mouse rather than by strolling through rows and mazes of colorful shelves?

Trust me, I’m no luddite. I’m a high school girl who’s had an iPhone since 4th grade. Technology is not something that I want to resist, nor should I. I’m not sounding the alarm, saying we’re entering an apocalyptic wasteland now that our traditional libraries are evolving into modern, tech-orientated spaces.

But still, it’s interesting to think about the immediate and potential effects of the new ways of accessing our reading material. Every night I see my mom curled up on the living room couch, her face illuminated by the glow of her Kindle. The electronic book was invented just a decade ago, and already about a third of Americans use them.

Whether our reading is for academic purposes or pure, personal entertainment–are quicker, more efficient, unlimited, and effortless always going to be better? Or will something be lost? Does it even matter?

I’m not talking about whether or not we absorb and digest as much of the meaning of the written word on a Kindle as opposed to by engaging in a physical book with pages. I’m sure much has already been researched on that topic.

I’m talking about Hemingway, who once said, “There is no friend as loyal as a book.” I think I get it.

When I’m feeling a certain way, sad or jumbled or overjoyed or amped up, or I just can’t fall asleep, I go down to my dad’s book room in the basement. The back wall is a galaxy covered in random bindings within which entire universes lie. Where else can you find the final glimmerings of Gatsby’s extravagant upstate New York parties sitting directly next to the horrors of the Vietnam War in “The Things They Carried”?

Visiting these worlds, even if it’s just me pulling down a random paperback and skimming the first chapter, or even absent-mindedly gazing at a few back covers or pictures of art or even maps–this has always had a calming effect on me. A grounding effect.

It’s like taking a brief time out from reality and visiting a friend. A generous, loyal, and constant friend.

Something’s been nagging at me a little bit since I started thinking about digital learning spaces filled with millions of cyber texts for us to download, conveniently waiting for us to summon them, floating somewhere in the cloud. As we gain the clear educational benefits that come with all the new advancements in technology and its sourcing of information–one question has been keeping me up at night. Are we losing our old friends?

And alas, I can’t sleep. Maybe I’ll head downstairs and visit a few.