Libraries terrified me as a child. They were places with too many rules, with an organization system that made no sense, with intimidating counters and information stored in a form I couldn't access.

But I loved books. Despite having what would now be called a severe reading and writing disability, as well as attention deficit-hyperactivity disorder, I devoured everything from Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel to a picture book that explained how electricity was created at Niagara Falls. I loved atlases and encyclopedias with their images, charts, and graphs, and magazines, from Life to National Geographic. So I braved this unhappy place, and, secretly pulling books off the shelf, I would disappear into a hidden corner to sit on the floor for a look. I couldn't check out books on my own. To do that, the library required that I write my name and address on the application form, something I was unable to do.

Illustration by Tom Nick Cocotos.

This is no idle question. Libraries should be at the forefront of the information and communications revolution, with librarians leading the way toward universal access of our collective knowledge. So I ask you to take a look around. Are all students welcome in your library? Are the ones who need help with access being served?

Today's technologies offer everyone a relatively easy path to "media switching." That is, we can usually choose for ourselves the method in which we will receive or deliver information. Smartphones, for instance, can transform speech to text and vice versa. Blogs can read posts aloud. We can speak to our computer and it will execute a command or take dictation. And books are published in multiple forms, from print to digital to audio. These systems weren't created for users with special needs, but rather, because the general population has come to demand this flexibility.

While useful to everybody, alternative formats are essential to some. For me these constitute "liberation technologies," but, contrary to some unfortunate assumptions, these should not liberate me from libraries. Technology should instead free me from the constraints and limitations of the Gutenberg era so I can embrace libraries and all the riches they have to offer.

But too many libraries reject my embrace, beginning with a certain attitude.

I know that librarians love books. They love the feel, the smell, the look of the page, and that's fine, but stop telling me that, and stop promoting your institution as first and foremost a temple to the bound book. Physical volumes have kept me from reaching the ideas and stories that I want. An impenetrable pile of pages in linear order, books are difficult to decode, search, and rearrange, and one of the worst information management systems I have encountered. Still other students find them hard to hold, heavy to carry, not to mention, of course, costly.

Students "with differences" want safe places to search for and acquire knowledge, rather than depositories of physical books. We want to know, from the minute we begin searching, what forms this book or information is available in, and how to access it. Amazon does this, and public libraries offer a similar choice. Now it's time for school libraries to get with the program. Provide a digital version, machine readable and highly portable, an audio version, preferably in the form of an MP3, and large print and Braille options. How about film or video versions? And are they accessible via YouTube?

The task is fairly straightforward, but it does require an attitudinal shift. Librarians need to understand that I, for example, am not a lesser reader of James Joyce because I've never held a print copy of Ulysses in my hands, having only "read it" (six times) via audiobook and digital text-to-speech. Nor is the teen who watches Kenneth Branagh's film version of Henry V less a student of Shakespeare than her classmate who reads a volume from the Folger Library. In fact, by helping match the media to our needs, you enable us to devote more of our cognitive effort to comprehension.

But to truly embrace learners like me or to allow learners like me to embrace your library, you must provide access. And this begins at the door.

Make it easy for all users to enter the library, to see and locate things. Remove intimidating barriers—high counters effectively symbolize authority, which is why judges favor them. Tall counters impair communication for some and make it impossible for others, such as a student using a wheelchair. Lots of posters and tons of written information on the walls might excite some users, but that kind of environment can make those of us who struggle with attention go a bit crazy, not to mention hinder those with reading and language issues. And then there are those rules—you know, the ones that separate libraries from bookstores: no food, no drinks, no talking, no soft chairs at the computers, no baseball caps, and no iPods. Such regulations deter a whole category of students, or at least convince them that libraries aren't any place they'd want to be. On any weekend evening in my town, there are far more teens, and a far more diverse group of them, at Barnes & Noble than there are at the local library. Why is that?

Access to libraries requires technological change, as well. Your library computers must be fully accessible from the first touch. Do you have sitting, standing, and wheelchair-accessible stations? Are they equipped with headset plugs and are alternative keyboards and mice available? Is there a desktop icon linking your users to accessibility settings with a single click? If you're using Windows Vista or Windows 7, do you have speech recognition enabled and microphones? Mac-equipped libraries should acquire the speech recognition software MacSpeech Dictate.

Web browser Firefox offers a range of add-ons that enhance basic accessibility, including text to speech, dictionary definitions, and translations, available by right-clicking. Microsoft Word has its own set of accessibility enhancements. (See "Text-Editing Tools," opposite page).

Do you have inexpensive MP3 players to loan for audiobook use? Can students load those files onto their personal devices? Do you have links on your site so that students can access these files at home? Load at least some of these programs onto flash drives for students who lack home broadband to borrow. You also need the ability to quickly scan a book when a student requires a text in digital form. Is there, for example, a computer with WYNN, literacy software for users with reading challenges, linked to a scanner for fast conversions?

Of the world of resources on the Web, have you used Bookshare, the free online library for users with print disabilities, or subscribed to the Accessible Book Collection? And then there's the many open university courseware sites (see above list), repositories of free college-level classes, including podcast and video lectures, which are largely untapped by K—12 educators and students. Link to these resources, encourage their use, and consider uploading your own presentations to the Web, further enriching our global learning community.

None of these adjustments are very difficult and most are free. But they won't happen without intentional action—your special needs students need your help in accessing these solutions.

When I see print-disabled students sitting in libraries, I imagine a student who can't walk being left to lie in the middle of the floor. Not providing aid is akin to yelling, "get up and walk," as if we're somehow convinced that offering a wheelchair would make that student lazy. So he or she sits there, surrounded by possibility, but unable to reach anything.

Twenty years ago, the kind of media-switching technology that would allow kids like me to reach for those possibilities was difficult and expensive. Now it's easy and free. The only thing keeping kids like me from really using your library, is, well, your library.

It's time to change.