Why I keep showing up...
- Stacie Ledden
- Jun 4
- 5 min read
On Tuesday, May 27, 2025, my colleagues Shamichael Hallman, Tommi Laitio and I gathered on the NEXT Library 2025 stage in Aarhus, Denmark, to present, "Why We Show Up: Cultivating Hope in Uncertain Times," an interactive, Civic Saturday-inspired keynote for 350+ global library professionals. Below is my 7-minute civic sermon.
Why do I show up?
By Stacie Ledden
I was surprised by the existential tailspin this question sparked as it became the theme for this talk. In my head, I was peeling back layers. Why DO I “show up”? What does that mean exactly?
I’m not a librarian – I’m a marketer, storyteller and strategist who has dedicated their career to libraries. Outside of work, I’m an activist. But when we say showing up, who is it we’re showing up for?
I’ve been no stranger to existential meanderings over the past year. In April 2024, I left my 15-year career at Anythink Libraries in Colorado where I was the Director of Strategic Partnerships. I didn’t have a plan for my next move but knew I needed a little time and space to figure it out.
Even as a self-described risktaker, someone who 13 years ago organized a whole conference around taking smart risks to move libraries forward, this was scary as hell. One of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Anythink was such a huge part of my identity - and still is in many ways – that it was difficult to imagine life after being there.
I also never in a million years thought I’d ever be in a position to take time off. I’ve been working since I was 12 years old, bussing tables at Jeff’s Sandwich Shop in San Bernardino, California. I didn’t think that was a thing - that you could take a break. And for so many, it’s not. But it was something I was able to do, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. To take the time I needed to heal from burnout, to think and daydream and write, and reflect on the future.
For the past several years, I’ve been talking with library staff around the world about joy as an essential service. I believe strongly that along with the basic needs that libraries provide – access to information, a safe space, people who can help them navigate systems that have often left many behind – that joy is also essential. Sometimes the only smile a person may receive in their day is at their local library. That’s a powerful thing.
Joy fuels our resilience and reminds us what it is exactly we’re showing up for. Joy helps us combat fear and fuels hope. Art, music, food, and nature bring joy – as does human connection. Having a safe space for dialogues like this sparks joy. Citizen power can be joyous – even when the work itself is hard.
And the world is hard right now. People need to know that someone they trust is on their side. By creating moments of joy, we’re showing our communities that we care for them. That we put them at the center. We don’t know what their lives are like before they come to the library or after they leave; all we have control over is that sliver in time that they’re with us. As we know, our worlds can change so quickly - we can’t take those moments for granted.
So, there I was – I left my job of 15 years, no idea what I was going to do next, but knew I needed a break. And a mentor of mine, Kimberley Sherwood, gave me some great advice: “Live your philosophy.”
And that’s what I did. I decided to – very intentionally – practice what I had been preaching. I re-centered creativity in my life. I spent time with family and friends. I went to museums and parks and listened to birds and watched the trees in my backyard grow. I went to concerts and wrote like crazy. This experience fueled me so I could continue showing up for myself and others. Because that fuel is essential. Eventually, this time of reflection led me to starting my own business.
So, why do I show up?
Eric Liu, co-founder of Citizen University, wrote a book in 2017 about citizen power titled, You’re More Powerful Than You Think. In his book, he talks about how power is infinite and can be conjured “almost magically by organizing.”
“Organizing is magic,” he writes. “It is magic in that it creates something from seemingly nothing, without subtracting from what existed previously. When you teach me to give a speech in public, you add to the amount of activated power in the world. You do not subtract power from people who already knew how to public speak.”
There’s something about that magic – people creating something from seemingly nothing, just like we’re doing here at this conference – that keeps me showing up. Whether creating art or writing or building movements, it’s something formed that wasn’t there before. There’s something exhilarating about that.
Why do I show up?
When I was 3 years old, my mom got a job transfer from New Jersey to Southern California, which is roughly from here in Aarhus to New York City. She packed up my 1-year-old sister and me for the cross-country drive, while Dad stayed behind to settle the house. When she got out there, Dad decided to stay in New Jersey. So here she was, in a completely new state, thousands of miles from her family, raising two young girls on her own.
As the oldest, I became the confidante, the caretaker. My sister often jokes I’m the one who raised her, usually when she’s doing something nefarious. Mom worked two jobs to pay the bills and still drove us across town every day so we went to a good school, typically singing songs at the top of our lungs along the way. The A.K. Smiley Library in Redlands, California, was a regular stop on our way home.
Mom made sure we had a good life, despite the odds stacked against her. As a single mom with few resources, divorced, working in a male-dominated field in the ‘80s, never having finished college because she had to quit to take care of her own mom.
So, why do I show up? What part is innate? What part is ego? What part has been shaped by life experience? What part is driven by the kind of world I want to live in and believe in?
I think it’s all of it. I show up because of all those who have shown up before me and those who will pave the way ahead. I show up because of my deep passion for connecting with others. I show up because of a desire for meaning and purpose. Because of the fire in my belly that I’m pretty sure was there straight from the womb. And yet doubts still creep in sometimes about whether it’s enough.
No matter the doubts, or the obstacles ahead, I’ll still be here. Standing with my colleagues, with all of you. Ready with a smile (and a hug). Because, frankly, I don’t know any other way to be.
Read my follow-up thoughts on vulnerability as collective strength or watch the full keynote presentation below. Thank you to our colleagues at NEXT Library for the opportunity, and for the video.
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