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Decolonizing my Library (11 of 15)

Transforming Libraries into Insurgent, Collective Powerhouses

Building Community-Centered Collections

This post is part of a series that reviews decolonialism in libraries, archives and other similar spaces, from the perspective of the Global South and the margins, and how colonialism affects collections, staffing, services, activities, policies, and results. Check all the posts in this section's index.

Introduction

Within the field of knowledge and memory management, a notion has been steadily gaining ground — one that involves not only a methodological shift but a profound reconfiguration of the political role of libraries: community-centered collections.

This idea goes beyond changing the types of materials preserved or the way they are catalogued; it proposes a transformation in the relationship between library institutions and the territories they inhabit. Instead of being spaces that deliver services in a top-down manner, libraries become horizontal platforms where collaboration is activated, silenced voices are heard, and collective processes of resistance, memory, and action are nurtured.

This shift finds its momentum in what could be called a community insurgency: a stance that challenges and interrogates the traditional frameworks —often hierarchical, Eurocentric, and colonial— on which libraries as institutions have historically been built. Rather than replicating institutional logics that prioritize knowledge legitimized by power, community insurgency seeks to dismantle those structures and make way for practices of cultural co-creation, where knowledge and memory are built with, from, and for the communities.

This text explores the implications of such a displacement: how a library can activate situated memory processes, what forms that collaboration can take, and what transformative potential lies —not only for collections, but for social relations— in embracing the library as a collective space of power.

From Passive Repositories to Engaged Agents

For a long time, libraries were conceived as neutral guardians of knowledge, operating under the assumption that open access to information was enough to democratize knowledge. However, that model —privileging "authorized" voices and formal systems of validation— has proven insufficient and, in many cases, exclusionary. Decisions about what gets preserved, how it’s organized, what is exhibited and what is omitted, have historically been shaped by institutional criteria, often driven by academic, political, or corporate agendas that reinforce hegemonic worldviews.

In contrast, community-centered collections propose to reverse that logic. They begin with the recognition that knowledge is not neutral, and that every act of preservation is also an act of power. A library truly committed to its territory cannot limit itself to safeguarding materials — it must become actively involved in constructing them alongside those who live, resist, create, and dream within that same space. Librarianship ceases to be a purely technical task and becomes a situated practice, one that acknowledges the need to open itself to other ways of knowing — often made invisible or delegitimized by traditional institutional frameworks.

From this perspective, libraries are no longer intermediaries between knowledge and the public. They become strategic allies in processes of community memory. For example, building a collection alongside social movements, local activists, or Indigenous communities involves more than simply documenting or collecting objects. It means participating in the creation of collective narratives that break away from the silences imposed by official archives. Such practices not only expand the boundaries of what is preserved but also strengthen the sense of belonging and agency of communities in defining their own histories.

Co-Creation as a Political Practice

Co-creation should not be understood as a one-off gesture of community participation, but as a reconfiguration of the power relations that shape the institutional life of libraries. It means inviting collectives, neighbors, Indigenous peoples, workers, students, or artists not just to suggest materials, but to participate actively in decisions about what is preserved, how it is named, what is displayed, and under what criteria the collection is organized.

This demands a genuine willingness on the part of libraries to yield power and to de-hierarchize internal processes. It means recognizing that traditional methods of classification, description, or curation often impose an external gaze that can distort or reduce the complexities of local memories. Therefore, co-creation also entails a critical review of the technical tools used in knowledge organization, allowing communities themselves to define how they wish to be named, represented, and narrated.

Likewise, co-creation requires expanding the notion of what counts as knowledge. Community-centered libraries must be open to incorporating oral traditions, ephemeral materials, and non-conventional formats such as zines, posters, audio recordings, textiles, podcasts, or collective journals. Far from being "lesser" or "alternative," these expressions are vital vehicles for preserving and sharing experiences that would otherwise continue to be ignored by traditional archival structures.

The Library as a Space of Collective Power

When a library adopts a logic of community co-creation, it does more than transform its holdings: it redefines its place within the social ecosystem. It becomes an active node from which communities can connect, organize, and produce meaning. The library space is no longer designed solely for consultation or reading — it becomes a site of gathering, learning, conspiring, and resisting.

This new role entails enabling concrete material conditions: offering spaces for assemblies, workshops, screenings, or cultural events that respond to local concerns. It also involves facilitating access to resources that allow communities to drive their own projects: from technical support and digital training to assistance in building independent archives or producing their own content.

In this framework, the library becomes a strategic ally in processes of social transformation, capable of leveraging its infrastructure and expertise to strengthen the autonomy and organizational capacity of local collectives. It becomes, at its best, an institution that no longer speaks for the community, but with it — through ethical, political, and affective engagement.

Building a Sustainable Framework

Implementing a community-centered collection is not a symbolic gesture or a one-time project. It is a process that requires continuity, commitment, and a clear structure. First and foremost, it means building strong, long-term alliances with community organizations, territorial leaders, activists, and grassroots collectives. These alliances should not be framed as service relationships, but as forms of co-producing knowledge, grounded in dialogue and mutual respect.

It is also crucial to establish stable mechanisms for consultation and participation. Libraries can organize working groups, editorial committees, or curatorial teams composed of community members who participate in decisions about selection, cataloguing, and dissemination of materials. This structure ensures that participation is not reduced to token consultation, but meaningfully shapes the construction of the collections.

Another essential aspect is ensuring accessibility. This means thinking in diverse formats, considering the literacy levels within the community, translating content into local or Indigenous languages, and making sure physical spaces are navigable and welcoming for all. Finally, it is important to publicly recognize community contributions — give credit, celebrate their input, and create ways of giving back that nourish the relationship and build trust.

Conclusion

Undertaking the construction of community-centered collections is not merely a way to update acquisition policies or diversify the holdings. It is, above all, a political act that questions the historical frameworks of knowledge validation and proposes reimagining the library as a space of contestation, creation, and collective care. It is a recognition that memory is not a pile of objects, but a living, situated, and contested process — one that can only be sustained if it is built with those who inhabit the territory and with those who have been systematically silenced.

If libraries take on this challenge, they can become true centers of community power: spaces where the memories that matter are protected, where marginalized voices are amplified, and where knowledge once again becomes a common good in the service of dignified life, social justice, and political imagination.

About this post

Text: Edgardo Civallero.
Publication date: 25.03.2025.
Picture: "Collective memory", by Rosa Leyva Delgado. In ArteNet [Link].