Human Library participants, from left to right: Ryanx, Richard, Lorrie, Brian, Marilyn and Melissa at Cape Cod Hospital.

Beyond the Cover: Human Library Returns to CCHC

For the third time, Human Library volunteers shared their experiences with Cape Cod Healthcare staff, opening conversations about stereotypes, understanding and the person behind the story.

For 34 years, Brian wore a police uniform.

But one of the most important lessons he hopes people take away from his career is that a uniform — or any other label — tells only part of someone’s story.

“We’re all wearing uniforms of some sort,” said Brian, a recently retired police officer who volunteered as a “human book” during Cape Cod Healthcare’s latest Human Library events. “Being a police officer is a uniform, but it doesn’t tell you everything about the person wearing it.” 

His message was simple: “Look beyond the uniform and see the person.” 

Melissa and Richard spoke about addiction and alcoholism.

That idea was at the heart of the Human Library, which returned to Falmouth Hospital on Sept. 22 and Cape Cod Hospital on Sept. 24 for its third visit to Cape Cod Healthcare. Presented in partnership with the Osterville Village Library, the program invited staff to “check out” human books — people who volunteer to share their experiences through honest, 15- to 20-minute conversations.

The goal is to create a safe space for dialogue and encourage greater understanding of people whose experiences may be different from our own.

This year’s books represented a range of experiences and perspectives, including military service, law enforcement, gender identity, aging, addiction and alcoholism.

While we weren't able to open every chapter, each volunteer brought an important perspective to the Human Library. Melissa and Richard, pictured together, shared their lived experiences with addiction and alcoholism, engaging with fellow “books” and staff throughout the event.

Below are some highlights from conversations with five of this year’s human books.

Owen, Coast Guard Veteran

Owen reflected on his 24-year Coast Guard career and mental health journey after military service.

For Owen, joining the Coast Guard was personal.

Growing up in New Jersey, about 40 minutes outside New York City, he remembers seeing smoke on the horizon after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks and knowing families in his community who were directly affected.

“I looked at my dad and said, ‘I want to — I need to — do something.’”

That decision led to a 24-year Coast Guard career that included search and rescue, law enforcement, military operations and deployments around the world. It also left Owen carrying experiences he didn't fully understand until years later.

“After my fourth son was born, I started having flashbacks,” he said. “He would be crying and I'd have to put my hand against the wall because suddenly I was back on a human-smuggling operation in Puerto Rico.”

After being diagnosed with PTSD and severe depression, Owen sought help through Heroes In Transition and its intensive Healing Heroes program. Accepting that help, he said, was one of the hardest steps. He also learned the importance of self-care — something that didn't come naturally after years of putting the mission and others first.

“I knew I needed to do the work,” he said. “I wanted to be a dad. I had my sons and a wife who always supported and loved me.”

Today, Owen serves as Heroes In Transition’s veteran outreach coordinator and veteran team lead, helping other veterans and military families find the support and community that helped him.

Brian, Retired Police Officer

Brian encouraged readers to “look beyond the uniform and see the person.”

Brian shares some of his most meaningful work occurred at the Hyannis Youth and Community Center, where his final assignment allowed young people to get to know the person behind the badge.

He played basketball and hockey, kept snacks and extra socks in his office in case kids forgot theirs and made himself available when kids needed someone to talk to. Brian also interacted with people of all ages and walks of life — from students and adults with disabilities to older adults.

Some teenagers even had his cellphone number. Occasionally, Brian would get a call at 2 a.m. from a young person who had been drinking at a party and needed a safe ride home. He would pick them up — with one condition: They had to wake up their parents and tell them what happened.

“I wanted them to be safe, but I also wanted them to take responsibility,” said Brian, a returning Human Library volunteer.

Years later, people still tell him about moments that made a difference in their lives.

“You don’t always know the lives you’ve touched,” he said. “Sometimes you never find out.” 

Lorrie, Air Force Veteran

Lorrie discussed her story with CCHC team member Bridget Torres.

When Lorrie joined the Air Force at 24, she knew exactly what she wanted to do: become a mechanic.

Getting there wasn't easy.

After failing the hearing test required for vehicle maintenance, she was assigned to wideband communications — a job she admits she hated. But she worked her way through the requirements and ultimately transferred to the motor pool, where she spent much of her 36-year military career.

Lorrie was frequently one of the only women in the room, but she remained focused on earning her place and pursuing the work she loved. Eventually, she reached the highest enlisted rank.

“It never really bothered me that I was the only woman at the conference table,” said Lorrie. “What did bother me was the idea of putting someone in a position simply because ‘we need another woman.’ I always felt you should put qualified people in positions and give them an opportunity to succeed.”

Marilyn, Octogenarian

Marilyn shared her perspectives on aging, advocacy and embracing new experiences.

At 85 years old, Marilyn sees no reason to stop saying yes to new experiences or encouraging others to get involved.

A returning Human Library volunteer, Marilyn shared perspectives on aging, healthcare and the growing challenges older adults can face navigating systems increasingly dependent on technology.

“There is such a need for advocates,” she said.

Her own experiences, from surviving Stage 3 endometrial cancer to helping an older sister navigate healthcare and MassHealth, have reinforced the importance of understanding the person behind the patient.

She also sees how the increasing reliance on email, online forms and other technology can leave some older adults behind.

“I don’t know what the answer is, but I think we need to be more cognizant of that,” she said.

Marilyn continues to stay deeply involved in her community, including work that has connected hundreds of local teenagers with opportunities to help people experiencing homelessness.

And she has no plans to stop.

“I don’t see any reason to stop doing things just because you’re older,” Marilyn said. “If something comes up and you have the opportunity to do it, do it.”

Ryanx, Transgender

Ryanx opened up about their experiences with gender identity, acceptance and understanding.

Returning Human Library volunteer Ryanx spent decades without the language to describe their gender identity.

Growing up in England in the 1980s and ’90s, Ryanx (the “x” is silent) knew they didn't identify as a man or woman but had never heard the term “non-binary.” When they finally encountered that language as an adult, “it felt like I was hearing truth for the first time in my life.”

Ryanx now participates in the Human Library to give others an opportunity to ask questions they may otherwise be uncomfortable asking, particularly about the experiences of transgender and non-binary people in healthcare.

One concept Ryanx discusses is what some in the transgender community call “transgender broken arm syndrome” — when a person’s transgender identity becomes a focus of a healthcare encounter even when it has little to do with the reason they are seeking care.

“I want to help other people understand,” Ryan said. “People can ask me questions. If there’s something I’m not comfortable answering, I’ll say so. But I want to be a resource.”

Ryanx also brought along Blåhaj, the IKEA shark that has become a symbol for some in the transgender community. Its blue, white and pink colors resemble the transgender flag.

For Ryanx, small gestures of acceptance can have an outsized impact.

“Those little things can be incredibly affirming,” said Ryanx. “They send a message that someone cares.”

Organizers Kumara Sidhartha, MD, MPH, and Cyndy Cotton, executive director of the Osterville Village Library, joined CCHC team members and participants during the Human Library event at Falmouth Hospital.