The first time a supervising librarian in California propped a phone on the circulation desk and filmed a tiny story from his day, the internet didn’t feel like a crowd; it felt like a quiet room leaning in. A shy child found the right book.
A grandparent smiled. A librarian—Mychal Threets—reminded millions that a plastic card and a public building can open an entire world. Across the United States, Threets has turned those small, generous moments into something larger: a movement to fall in love with libraries again.
The Librarian Who Says “You Belong Here”
Positive News captured the essence of Threets’ appeal early in 2024: a supervising librarian who radiates “library joy,” answering playful reading requests with the same care he gives to a teen seeking a first fantasy series or a grown-up returning to books after a hard season.
He repeats one message—“everyone belongs in a library”—not as a slogan but as a promise. His channels, now hundreds of thousands strong, have become a chorus of that belonging, inviting “library kids” and “library grownups” alike.
Scenes From The Stacks, Shot At Eye Level
National outlets noticed because the videos do more than charm; they teach civics in miniature. ABC News profiled how Threets’ TikTok tales highlight the public library as one of the last places you can exist without paying admission—vital not just for stories, but for services: computers and printers, legal help desks, board games, instruments, and job-hunting support. He adds a careful, humane note on book challenges: parents should guide their own kids, but bans remove access for everyone and often fall hardest on authors of color.
Belonging, Mental Health, And A Public Kindness
The tenderness is part of the resonance, but so is the frankness. The Guardian portrayed Threets as both library evangelist and mental-health advocate—open about anxiety, depression, PTSD, and panic disorder.
In 2024 he stepped away from his county role to prioritize care even as he accepted new responsibilities (including PBS’s resident librarian) that broaden his reach. That decision, made publicly and without drama, felt like service leadership of another kind: modeling boundaries, rest, and return.
From The Desk To A Beloved Screen
In 2025 his message leapt to an even bigger stage. Reading Rainbow—the seminal literacy series that shaped generations—is back with Threets as host.
The Associated Press and The Washington Post report a digital-first reboot on the KidZuko YouTube channel, with Saturday-morning episodes designed to meet families where they watch now.
Celebrity readers such as Gabrielle Union and John Legend bring familiar warmth, while the show preserves its original spirit: stories as shared inheritance and reading as a community ritual.
A Bay Area Origin, A National Audience
Local reporting sketched the arc from Solano County stacks to a national platform. The San Francisco Chronicle noted that Threets—celebrated by library associations and embraced online as “Mychal the Librarian”—announced the new role with an exuberant video and a promise: “new friends, new projects, and, of course, new books.” It’s a natural fit for someone who grew up on the original series and now embodies its ethos for a new generation.
Why These Videos Work
Watch a handful of clips and a pattern appears. A gentle greeting: “I’m so happy you’re here.” A day’s vignette: a child translating for a friend, a family discovering a new author, a teen starting to journal. A recommendation connects the feeling to a specific book.
The rhythm is pastoral rather than performative: soft fluorescent light, the squeak of a book cart, the tap of a stamp. The effect is intimate enough that strangers see their own branch in the frame. He makes a massive internet feel like a small room where your name is known.
The Stakes For U.S. Libraries
This joy arrives in a complicated moment. Funding pressure and political fights over collections have forced libraries to defend not only titles but their role as public infrastructure.
Yet, as Threets’ interviews emphasize, libraries are built for universal welcome—story hours and homework help, cooling centers and census forms, tax prep and quiet corners. The case he makes, day after day, is not abstract policy but practical hospitality: come talk, come read, come belong.
A Book To Carry The Mission
The advocacy is becoming a bookshelf of its own. Publishers Weekly previewed Threets’ forthcoming picture book, I’m So Happy You’re Here: A Celebration of Library Joy (Random House, February 2026), illustrated by Lorraine Nam. The outlet highlighted a first printing sized for a devoted audience and framed the book as a natural extension of his message—introducing neighborhood children to the library as a place to find themselves.
A Living Room Ritual, Reimagined
When new Reading Rainbow episodes drop on YouTube, it’s easy to picture the living rooms: a parent who remembers the theme song; a child curled into couch corners; a librarian on screen who feels like the person who stamped your first card.
The reboot keeps the classic blend of narrated stories and hands-on segments, now paced for a digital audience but faithful to the show’s spirit—books as doorways to curiosity and care.
In a year when public systems have had to argue for their existence, the show’s return turns literacy into a weekly habit again, free and widely available.
What It Means To Belong
Talk to librarians and they will tell you that the best metrics are not always attendance graphs or circulation curves; they’re the human ones. A child who lights up when a title lands. A teen who finds language for identity.
A caregiver who exhales because someone remembered their kid’s favorite joke and saved the next book behind the desk. Threets’ steady refrain—“you belong here”—moves because it reflects a reality many have felt in their own branches.
End With Heart
Perhaps the internet didn’t need another personality; it needed a place. Threets points us to the one that already exists: the public library—nearby, free, and warm. If you walk in this week, you may not see a camera.
You’ll see something quieter and more enduring: a public good, tended with joy, where someone will help you find a story that feels like home. And if you can’t visit yet, a Saturday-morning episode can bring that welcome to your living room—reminding you, with grace and good humor, that you belong here.
