Abstract
This article examines how library standards and literacy policies are enacted and negotiated in geographically remote settings in Indonesia. Drawing on qualitative research in three remote villages in Nagekeo Municipality, Flores Island, eastern Indonesia, the article analyses how teachers, volunteers and community activists organise reading opportunities in conditions marked by distance, limited connectivity and uneven school resources. Data was drawn from interviews, observations and field notes, with reflexive attention to the author's dual role as researcher and programme facilitator. The findings indicate that libraries are most effective when they operate as bridging institutions – close to children, supported by adults who mediate reading, and organised flexibly rather than through uniform infrastructural models. Children showed increases in motivation, decoding and basic comprehension, although progress remained uneven and context-dependent. The study suggests that challenges stem less from the absence of policy than from misalignment between standardised expectations and the realities of remote communities. The article argues for interpreting standards contextually, prioritising readable print collections and guided pedagogy, and recognising the work of local actors while ensuring sustained institutional backing. The policy implications point to child-centred indicators and context-responsive approaches aimed at realising the right to read in substantive, not merely formal, terms.
Introduction: Policy aspirations versus lived realities
In many low- and middle-income contexts, the development of school libraries is framed as both a moral imperative and a key instrument for advancing educational equity. Indonesia has articulated this commitment through an increasingly comprehensive regulatory system. Law No. 43/2007 on national library standards requires every school to establish a library and contains regulations clarifying responsibilities across levels of government and detailing technical requirements. Subsequent ministerial provisions set expectations for staffing, collections, space and management procedures. Taken together, these policies signal a strong national intention to institutionalise equitable access to books, information and spaces for learning (Ministry of National Education, 2008; National Library of Indonesia, 2017; Republic of Indonesia, 2007, 2014). On paper, the system appears coherent and progressive. In practice, however, implementation unfolds unevenly, particularly in geographically remote and socio-economically disadvantaged regions.
The regulatory framework gives a detailed picture of what a ‘proper’ library should look like: a dedicated room of a certain size, minimum requirements for book collection, certified personnel, documented procedures and the adoption of cataloguing systems. These expectations intersect with the School Literacy Movement, which promotes daily reading routines, reading corners across schools and pedagogical activities that scaffold comprehension (Ministry of Education and Culture, 2015, 2016). Conceptually, this defines libraries not only as infrastructure but also as pedagogical hubs. Yet when such expectations encounter schools that are grappling with limited budgets, fragile staffing, unreliable roads, and uneven access to transportation and Internet connectivity, libraries may risk becoming primarily administrative entities – that is, visible in reports but absent in everyday practice.
This tension becomes sharper when physical standards meet the expectations of meaningful use. The regulations privilege growth in the number of titles, the presence of formally qualified librarians and compliance with technical procedures. Literacy guidance, meanwhile, presumes that teachers and staff are able to curate texts, mediate reading and integrate literacy across the curriculum. In contexts where schools are struggling to secure even basic materials, these assumptions may obscure the lived realities of teachers and children whose early reading requires careful, sustained scaffolding. As earlier analyses of ‘book hunger’ remind us, scarcity is not simply a quantitative lack of books; it is the result of systemic failures in the production, circulation and mediation of texts – failures that disproportionately affect rural and marginalised communities (Barker and Escarpit, 1973).
These dynamics resonate with broader patterns across the Global South. National frameworks often privilege visible infrastructure because it is easier to monitor and report. However, such indicators frequently travel poorly across uneven geographies. This tendency can be read through the lens of institutional (isomorphic) mimicry: states construct institutions that look like global ‘best practice’ in form – with complete buildings, standardised catalogues and certified positions – while the substantive functions these institutions are meant to perform remain only partially realised (Pritchett et al., 2013). Under these conditions, compliance becomes performative. Schools that are unable to meet space or staffing indicators may remain structurally excluded, even when they sustain meaningful reading practices through modest, context-responsive arrangements.
By contrast, emerging examples in South East Asia suggest alternative trajectories. In the Philippines, community-linked approaches associated with educators such as Ariel Betan connect school libraries with barangay reading centres, rotating collections between schools and neighbourhoods, and positioning teacher-librarians primarily as literacy facilitators rather than administrators. These local efforts intersect with initiatives such as the Library Renewal Partnership (n.d.), and mobilise communities, local governments and private actors to create flexible, community-owned reading spaces that evolve with local needs. Rather than investing primarily in completeness, these hybrid arrangements prioritise circulation, relevance and sustained human mediation, keeping books moving to where readers actually are and ensuring guided reading opportunities even when the infrastructure is modest. Seen through the critique of institutional mimicry, such practices emphasise functionality over form: libraries matter not because they resemble idealised institutions but because they reliably operate as child-centred literacy spaces grounded in partnership and care.
Within Indonesia, the School Literacy Movement gestures towards similar ideas. It imagines reading practices that extend beyond a single room, encourages book corners and shared spaces, and highlights the role of adults as reading models (Ministry of Education and Culture, 2015, 2016). Conceptually, this aligns with international shifts towards learning-commons approaches. Yet when these aspirations intersect with rigid physical and staffing standards, they risk becoming difficult to realise in remote settings. Paradoxically, the schools that are most in need of supportive literacy environments are often least able to meet the indicators required for recognition or further support.
This article examines how these tensions play out in geographically remote communities in Indonesia, and how local actors, teachers, volunteers and literacy activists work to bridge the gaps between regulations and lived reality. Rather than rejecting standardisation outright, the article asks how standards might be interpreted more contextually so that they enable, rather than inadvertently exclude, schools that serve the most disadvantaged children.
The contribution of this study lies in tracing how library standards, foundational literacy challenges and everyday practices intersect in places where remoteness, fragile infrastructure and limited circulation shape what is possible. Much existing work highlights libraries as sites of inclusion, digital access and community development, yet comparatively little is known about how accreditation logics and policy expectations are experienced in geographically isolated settings, or how they interact with basic decoding and comprehension struggles. By following libraries into these margins, the article shifts attention from libraries as infrastructural achievements to libraries as bridging institutions – spaces where national aspirations are translated into developmentally appropriate reading experiences. In doing so, it brings together debates in literacy studies, library and information fields, and education policy (particularly discussions of socially situated literacy, equitable access to reading and policy misalignment in the Global South), and shows how a context-sensitive interpretation of standards can widen, rather than narrow, opportunities for children living at the edges of the system. This analysis also situates these dynamics within a broader Global South pattern, in which literacy reforms are frequently designed to accelerate national progress in global comparisons while remaining only loosely connected to the everyday reading realities of children in remote communities.
The author has been directly involved in literacy advocacy and programme facilitation in the region under discussion. This positionality provides privileged access to field experiences while also requiring a reflective, analytical stance. The article therefore aims to critically examine both the promises and the limits of such interventions, rather than promote a particular programme.
The article proceeds as follows. The next section reviews national and international scholarship on school libraries, literacy policy and equity in remote regions. The methods section describes the study context and qualitative materials used. The findings explore how distance, digital inequality and the absence of formally recognised librarians shape everyday practices while highlighting how local actors repurpose limited resources. The discussion situates these insights within broader Global South debates, and the conclusion reflects on policy directions that emphasise contextual sovereignty while upholding children's right to read.
Literature review and conceptual lens
Libraries are conceptualised as public knowledge institutions whose role extends beyond storing books. They are expected to democratise access to information, foster reading identities and support learning across the life course, particularly for communities that have been historically excluded from educational opportunities (IFLA, 2015; Todd and Kuhlthau, 2005). From this viewpoint, equity is not guaranteed by infrastructure alone. Rather, it depends on whether users encounter libraries as mediated, relevant and reliable spaces for learning.
Ambitious narratives in many systems, including Indonesia, increasingly frame libraries as agents of empowerment and inclusion. This reframing is promising because it positions libraries as active contributors to human development. Yet experience from remote and under-resourced contexts suggests that institutions often face structural limits: distance, fragile infrastructure, limited circulation and thin staffing can constrain what libraries actually enable in everyday practice. In such settings, libraries may exist administratively while remaining modest as lived literacy environments.
Seen through an equity lens, the central question shifts from ‘Do libraries exist?’ to ‘What do libraries make possible for children who start school with limited literacy experiences?’ Where mediation is weak and collections remain misaligned with readers’ levels and lives, symbolic commitments to inclusion struggle to disrupt cumulative disadvantage. This perspective sets the stage for a deeper question, which is taken up in the next section: If libraries are to contribute to equity, how should the ‘right to read’ and justice in knowledge access be understood, especially for children in remote regions whose learning trajectories are already uneven?
The notion of the right to read links libraries to broader debates on citizenship, participation and social justice. Access to books is framed not simply as a cultural good, but as a condition for exercising voice, agency and opportunity (UNESCO, 2014). However, the mere presence of collections does not ensure that this right is realised. For many children, particularly those in remote schools, the distance between books and meaningful reading remains substantial, mediated by language, difficulty level and the availability of supportive adults.
From a justice perspective, libraries must therefore be understood as active infrastructures of mediation. Their value lies in helping children encounter texts they can decode, comprehend and discuss; creating safe spaces for practice; and scaffolding progression towards more complex reading. Without this mediational layer, the promise of the right to read risks remaining largely formal, benefiting those already advantaged while doing little to reach those at the margins.
Yet the right to read is unevenly realised across territory. In remote regions such as Greater Rawe, Flores Island, in East Nusa Tenggara province, Indonesia's southernmost province, children's everyday encounters with print are shaped less by national aspirations than by the material conditions of schooling: long distances, the absence of storybooks and scarce adult mediation (Bundy, 2001). In such contexts, national educational policies currently prioritising sophisticated learning technologies, high-level digital competencies or alignment with international assessments often travel poorly: they presuppose connectivity, stable infrastructure, and readers who already possess fluent decoding and comprehension skills (Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, 2019; Piper et al., 2018). Where children are still negotiating mother-tongue transitions and early decoding, such policies may arrive too far ahead of the problem they are seeking to solve.
This pattern reflects a broader phenomenon documented across the Global South, where reforms gravitate towards highly visible innovations aligned with global benchmarks yet foundational constraints – language, decoding, reading stamina and teacher capacity to scaffold early reading – remain under-addressed (Evans and Popova, 2016). In these circumstances, the right to read becomes formal rather than substantive: systems develop increasingly refined instruments to measure comprehension while many children are still struggling to access text at the most basic level (UNESCO, 2014).
Seen through the lens of mimicry failure, systems risk building institutions that resemble those of high-performing countries – complete with digital infrastructures, performance metrics and aspirational curricula – without developing the capabilities required to ensure that children in remote communities can actually engage with text (Pritchett et al., 2013). The exclusion that results is subtle: it is not the absence of policy attention, but the misalignment between what is provided and what is needed most urgently in places like Greater Rawe (Suryadarma and Jones, 2013).
For libraries, this misalignment is consequential. If the right to read is to function as a justice claim rather than a slogan, libraries must be positioned as bridging institutions – places where children gradually acquire decoding fluency, encounter texts that respect their linguistic repertoires and receive sustained guidance as they move towards comprehension (IFLA, 2015; Todd and Kuhlthau, 2005). Without such mediational work, policies that are designed to accelerate national performance risk bypassing those whose learning trajectories are already the most fragile.
If the right to read is often weakened by policy misalignment, the everyday mechanisms of that misalignment are visible in the work of those who implement policy. The lens of street-level bureaucracy reminds us that policies do not operate as written; they are constantly interpreted and negotiated by frontline actors – principals, teachers and community librarians, who must make rules workable in specific contexts (Lipsky, 2010).
In remote regions, these negotiations intensify. Schools and libraries are expected to meet standards that emphasise documentation, cataloguing procedures, space and evidence of activity, even when staff juggle multiple roles and resources remain fragile. Under such pressures, pragmatic strategies emerge: temporary teacher-librarians; multipurpose rooms declared ‘libraries’; reports completed retrospectively; or reading clubs organised only when time allows. These are not mere signs of failure; they represent situated problem-solving that is intended to keep institutions functioning under constraints.
However, these strategies come at a cost. Effort shifts towards what can be counted or photographed (those elements most visible to supervisors), while the slower, less visible work of reading mediation receives less time. In systems already shaped by Matthew-effect dynamics, this displacement matters: children who most need sustained, scaffolded encounters with text are least likely to receive them.
Street-level perspectives therefore complicate simple explanations. Exclusion in places like Greater Rawe rarely stems from neglect; it arises from layers of indicators and accountability pressures that privilege compliance work over learning work. Combined with institutional mimicry, this produces institutions that look increasingly sophisticated on paper yet remain thin at the point where children meet text and meaning (Pritchett et al., 2013).
Seen in this way, libraries stand at a crossroads: they are both administrative units that must demonstrate activity and pedagogical spaces charged with cultivating readers. Understanding how front-line actors navigate this tension is essential for reimagining policy responses. This insight opens the discussion towards practice-centred approaches. Instead of asking how local actors can stretch to meet uniform standards, we turn to how educational ecosystems might adapt around local conditions – an idea that is explored in the next section through place-based education and frugal innovation.
The dynamics described above suggest that asking front-line actors to stretch further within rigid frameworks is unlikely to resolve inequities. Instead, they invite a different orientation: adapting systems to context rather than continually adapting context to systems. This shift is central to both place-based education and frugal innovation.
Place-based perspectives argue that meaningful learning emerges when educational practices are anchored in the social, linguistic and environmental worlds that children inhabit (Gruenewald, 2003). Rather than importing universal models, they encourage schools and libraries to draw on local languages, histories, problems and assets as foundations for participation. In remote regions, this approach reframes the library not as a standardised facility to be replicated everywhere but as a locally negotiated space where children encounter texts that resonate with their lives, in languages they understand and at levels they can realistically read.
An innovation complements this orientation by emphasising lightweight, adaptive solutions designed under constraints. Rather than assuming that quality depends on expensive infrastructure, frugal approaches prioritise usability, circulation and sustainability: rotating book sets, shared multipurpose rooms, simple cataloguing and community volunteers trained to mediate reading (Bound and Thornton, 2012). The focus is not on replicating high-capacity systems but on enabling core functions – access, practice, guidance – under real local conditions.
In contexts such as Greater Rawe, these perspectives help reinterpret scarcity. Distance, intermittent staffing and limited connectivity are not temporary obstacles to be overcome before ‘real’ reform can begin; they are structuring conditions that policy must acknowledge. When libraries are reimagined as mobile, shared or multi-use spaces, when collections are curated to match mother-tongue transitions and early decoding needs, and when adults are supported to read with children rather than simply supervise them, libraries begin to act as bridges rather than symbols.
Crucially, place-based and frugal approaches do not reject standards. Instead, they call for flexible standards that recognise multiple legitimate pathways to the same educational purpose. The question becomes less ‘Does the library meet the full checklist?’ and more ‘Does the library reliably support foundational reading for the children who use it?’ In systems marked by Matthew-effect dynamics, this functional orientation is essential: it prioritises early access, mediation and success experiences for those learners who are most at risk of falling behind.
Seen alongside street-level bureaucracy and mimicry failure, these perspectives offer a conceptual bridge for the analysis that follows. They shift attention from how schools and libraries fail to conform towards how institutions might be redesigned to work differently, and more justly, for those living at the margins of the system.
Context and methods
This section introduces the setting of the study and explains how the data was collected and analysed. It describes the geographical and social context, outlines the data sources and procedures, and briefly reflects on the researcher's dual role in the field.
Study context: Greater Rawe (Rawe Raya)
This study is situated in three interconnected villages located in the highlands of Flores Island, Indonesia, collectively known by residents as Rawe Raya (Greater Rawe). The term denotes not only geography but kinship and shared ancestral identity, binding together communities that are socially close yet physically distant. The settlements lie along rugged mountain ridges and are connected by narrow, uneven roads that shift from paved sections to exposed earth. Short geographical distances translate into long travel times, especially during the rainy season.
In each of the three villages – Matarawe, Waturawe and Nuarawe (all pseudonyms) – residents established a community library and formed a management team that brought together village authorities, school principals, community members and customary leaders. The libraries occupy existing public spaces: one is situated in the village office, one is in an early childhood centre and the third is located near a state primary school. They were created to complement schools that, at the time of the study, did not have formal school libraries.
Each village has one small state primary school, with limited enrolment and, consequently, restricted school operational funding, which is allocated on a per-pupil basis. Each also has one early childhood education centre. Within the wider Greater Rawe area, there is one combined lower–upper secondary school (SMP Satu Atap or One-Roof Junior High School) and one vocational school (senior high school level). Low enrolment reflects the small population base, where a single village typically corresponds to one kin group or clan. These demographic and institutional features shape what the schools and libraries can realistically provide, and form the conditions under which the community libraries operate (Suryadarma and Jones, 2013).
Remoteness in this region is lived rather than abstract. Access to markets, health care and public services typically requires hours of walking or motorbike travel. Digital connectivity is inconsistent and often intermittent, reinforcing a sense of isolation. Households depend primarily on springs, rain catchment or purchased water during the dry season. Mobility patterns are gendered: male breadwinners usually control the scarce transport, while women and children move mostly on foot, thus shaping time, energy and opportunities for learning. Technology is similarly stratified: a single household device is often used by men or older sons, leaving children with limited independent digital access. Under these realities, printed books become the most tangible gateway to information and imagination for children.
Schools in this region are identified as vulnerable due to persistent challenges in literacy development. Many children can decode print yet continue to struggle with comprehension, inference and sustained reading stamina – conditions that heighten the risk of cumulative disadvantage over time. The emergence of community libraries and locally facilitated reading spaces therefore represents not only an educational intervention, but also an infrastructural response to isolation.
Data sources and analytical procedures
This article draws on a multi-source qualitative data set that was collected across several periods of field engagement:
Semi-structured interviews with teachers, community facilitators, village officials, parents and children, focusing on perceptions of reading practices, access to books and the evolving role of the community libraries; Field observations conducted in schools, community libraries and informal reading spaces (mostly in communal spaces), documenting interactions with texts and the rhythms of daily literacy life; Local documents and artefacts, including school records, library logs and programme notes related to library use and literacy events.
The data was coded iteratively using a combination of deductive categories (derived from the conceptual lenses on equity, street-level bureaucracy and place-based practice) and inductive coding emerging from the field. Triangulation across the sources enabled the cross-checking of claims and identification of patterns that recurred across the sites. Particular attention was given to contradictions and negative cases, which were used to refine interpretations rather than force convergence.
All of the participating sites have been anonymised. The village and school names have been replaced with pseudonyms, and identifying details have been removed or altered where disclosure risks recognition. The participants were informed of the purpose of the research and their right to withdraw. Verbal consent was prioritised in communities where written consent carried unintended connotations of surveillance or bureaucracy. The quotations used in the article are translated and lightly edited for clarity while preserving meaning. Because the research engages small communities, contextual anonymity, avoiding combinations of details that allow indirect identification, was treated as critical throughout the analysis and writing process.
Researcher reflexivity and mitigation of bias
The author participated in the design and facilitation of the literacy initiative discussed in this article. This dual position afforded privileged access and insight, but also carried the risk of observer bias. To mitigate this risk, interpretations were triangulated across the interviews, observations and documents; the descriptive accounts were separated from evaluative claims; and emerging analyses were repeatedly tested against alternative explanations.
The descriptions of the outcomes are therefore presented cautiously and within the contextual limits of the study. The study is not intended to measure programme impact in a causal sense. Instead, it examines how libraries function within conditions of remoteness, and how everyday actors adapt them as bridging institutions. The findings are context-specific, but they aim to contribute conceptually to debates on equity, foundational literacy and policy implementation in marginalised regions.
Findings
The findings are organised thematically to show how libraries operate as bridging institutions in remote contexts and how children, families and local actors experience them in practice. Rather than presenting outcomes as linear ‘before–after’ results, the analysis traces patterns that emerged across the sites, highlighting both what changed and what remained difficult. Together, the themes illustrate how mediation, proximity and reliability shape what the right to read looks like on the ground.
Becoming readers: Motivation, stamina and early comprehension
Across the three villages in Greater Rawe, the most visible change reported by the community library activists concerned children's motivation and emerging reading competence. Children who regularly attended the community libraries showed marked gains in decoding and basic comprehension, as assessed using an adapted EGRA (Early Grade Reading Assessment) -style task. All of the children who participated in follow-up testing could recognise letters, read syllables and words, and answer questions from short texts – representing a meaningful increase compared to the baseline, when several children were still struggling at the syllable level. These improvements were not uniform, but they shifted the everyday feel of the reading environment: children now arrived expecting to read, ask questions and linger with books.
The community libraries’ daily rhythms illustrate how mediation mattered. The activists divided their roles: one facilitated interactive read-alouds and another supervised independent reading, while a third provided guided reading in small groups using children's literature and simple worksheets adapted from training. Over time, this differentiated support helped sustain focus and stamina, especially for reluctant readers. As one activist described: ‘The children say, “Sister! Please open the library quickly!” They come even before it opens’ (Activist A from Matarawe). Another activist reflected on how this commitment reshaped her own routines: ‘Sometimes, when I am busy or tired, I remember the children. I feel sorry if the library is closed’ (Activist B from Matarawe). These accounts underscore a core theme: motivation became reciprocal. The children's eagerness to read motivated the activists to sustain regular opening hours; in turn, the activists’ presence stabilised children's reading habits. This dynamic aligns with the right-to-read perspective: access is realised not merely through collections, but also through reliable, relational availability.
Beyond mechanics, comprehension expanded into curiosity. Because children rarely travel beyond their village, books became portals into unfamiliar worlds. One activist explained: ‘Through these books, they learned that salt comes from the sea … They ask many questions; their curiosity is high’ (Activist B from Matarawe). In this sense, community libraries functioned not only as literacy spaces but also as imaginative infrastructures – a crucial bridge for children whose mobility is constrained by terrain, time and cost.
Expanding confidence: Learning to facilitate, not merely supervise
A second pattern concerned the activists’ own learning trajectories. Many began with limited experience working with children or leading reading activities. Through training and practice, they gradually built competence and confidence: ‘I never imagined I could do this … I can read aloud in engaging ways … I can even help children learn to read, though I am not a teacher’ (Activist B from Waturawe).
Their confidence grew not only from techniques but also from recognition. Hearing teachers affirm children's progress became affirming: ‘I was very happy when teachers said the children who came regularly to the library could now read’ (Activist B from Waturawe). In street-level terms, the activists evolved from caretakers of spaces to mediators of text – a shift from ‘keeping the library open’ to cultivating readers. Their role blurred the boundaries between community volunteer and literacy facilitator, especially in places where formally trained librarians were scarce. This learning extended to a city-based facilitator who had never previously visited these remote villages: Their enthusiasm encouraged me; the training materials were new learning for me as well. Even though I come from this region, I have never visited these villages before. Being involved in this programme has motivated me to offer more assistance to my colleagues here. I should come visit them more often. (Teacher trainer from Mbay, the capital of the municipality)
These reflections highlight a subtle but important novelty: capacity flowed both ways. Remote communities were not only the recipients of support; they were also the co-producers of pedagogical insight.
Flexible, shared and mobile spaces
Third, the community libraries operated through frugal, flexible spatial arrangements. Rather than being housed in fixed buildings, they moved according to need and safety considerations. In Waturawe, materials were housed in the classroom of an early education centre but could be relocated to allow immediate access after school; location mattered because most households travel on foot. Concerns about child safety reinforced the school as a trusted site. In Matarawe, the community library shared a multipurpose village office, alternating with community organisations and youth groups: ‘This made the library part of village life and nurtured a sense of collective ownership’ (Activist B from Matarawe).
Rather than signalling inadequacy, these arrangements illustrate place-based design – libraries embedded within the rhythms of community life. Shared governance deepened commitment. Village officials even discussed including financial support for the libraries in annual planning processes. Here, ‘ownership’ is not symbolic; it is procedural and budgetary. This flexibility challenges assumptions embedded in rigid standards. A library may lack a permanent building yet succeed in what matters most: bringing readable, relevant texts within walking distance and ensuring an adult is present to help children make sense of them.
Over time, this flexibility extended beyond space into the communities’ culture. The annual Independence Day celebrations in the villages traditionally centred on horse racing, boxing, football and large collective dances. Now, they began to incorporate literacy events. Storytelling, read-aloud activities and poetry reading were added to the competitions. The residents did not abandon existing traditions; instead, they redefined celebration so that books, voice and reading could stand alongside sport and performance as expressions of pride and participation. This shift illustrates how libraries can become part of public life rather than remaining peripheral spaces for children only.
Although the library activities focused primarily on children, adults also benefited. Caregivers accompanying younger children increasingly requested materials related to agriculture, home economics and everyday concerns, signalling the emergence of the libraries as family literacy spaces. Exposure to varied genres gradually broadened local understandings of what libraries are ‘for’ – not only schooling but also problem-solving, leisure and connection.
Despite these promising signs, the findings should be interpreted with caution. Gains in decoding and comprehension were observed over months, not years. Attendance fluctuated with agricultural cycles and household responsibilities. The activists balanced multiple roles, and sustainability depended on continued local commitment and modest resource flows. Moreover, community libraries alone cannot compensate for structural gaps – limited Internet connectivity, uneven school quality and the burdens of distance. What they can do, however, is reduce the distance between policy aspiration and lived reading experiences, particularly in places that formal systems struggle to reach. This distinction matters for policy debates: community libraries did not ‘solve’ literacy but changed the conditions under which reading became thinkable, possible and repeatable.
Taken together, the findings suggest that, in remote regions, libraries work best when they are imagined not as fixed infrastructures but as bridging institutions:
Bridging home, school and community; Bridging decoding and comprehension; Bridging national aspirations and local realities; Bridging children's limited mobility with broader worlds.
They do so less through technological sophistication than through predictable presence, mediated engagement with texts and the flexible use of space. These dynamics align with the conceptual lenses discussed earlier: equity and the right to read; the adaptive practices of street-level actors; and place-based, frugal approaches to design (Bound and Thornton, 2012; Gruenewald, 2003; Lipsky, 2010; UNESCO, 2014).
In Greater Rawe, these bridging roles gradually extended outwards. The creation of community libraries opened connections with district-level actors and activism: the mobile library service began regular visits; community facilitators developed links with literacy groups in the Nagekeo district capital; and a locally elected representative helped introduce the libraries to district leaders, including the education and library offices. Coverage in local online media and radio further increased visibility. These processes contributed to momentum around a district regulation on books, offering clearer justification for public investment in print materials for isolated communities. Rather than replacing state provision, community action operated as a point of contact through which government resources could travel (Pritchett et al., 2013).
At the same time, the activists’ accounts emphasise that motivation, confidence and curiosity are relational outcomes. When adults read with children, when spaces are close enough to reach on foot and when books connect with lived experience, reading becomes a sustained practice rather than an assessment requirement (Todd and Kuhlthau, 2005).
These findings do not claim generalisability. They illustrate how policies oriented to standards and performance indicators are translated in a remote setting and how community actors improvise to make the right to read materially real while still relying on collaboration with formal systems. The discussion below considers how such forms of practice might be recognised and supported without adding unrealistic compliance demands.
Discussion: Rethinking standards in remote settings
Linking findings to theory: Libraries as bridging institutions
The findings show that, in remote contexts such as Greater Rawe, libraries work most effectively as bridging institutions. This resonates with the ideological view of literacy, which understands reading as a social practice mediated by relationships, routines and meaning rather than as the automatic outcome of distributing books (Street, 1984; Todd and Kuhlthau, 2005).
The right-to-read perspective further clarifies why children's progress mattered. Gains were linked not to access alone, but to reliable mediation – consistent adults who read to and with children, matched texts to levels and gradually extended reading stamina (IFLA, 2015; UNESCO, 2014). In this sense, justice in reading becomes real only when systems structurally enable mediation, rather than relying on individual goodwill.
At the same time, the street-level lens helps explain how such mediation emerged. The activists translated expectations into feasible routines under constraints, illustrating the discretionary work characteristic of front-line actors (Lipsky, 2010). Yet this also reveals fragility: when success depends on quiet improvisation rather than systemic support, outcomes remain uneven. Here, place-based and frugal perspectives help illuminate why locally grounded, lightweight solutions can work precisely because they are responsive to context (Bound and Thornton, 2012; Gruenewald, 2003).
Why uniform standards can be unjust
The findings also show why uniform standards, even when motivated by fairness, may inadvertently produce inequity. Standards define what a ‘proper’ library should be. However, in remote settings, where mobility, staffing and infrastructure differ sharply from urban conditions, the same standards may disadvantage those already underserved. A library may fail accreditation because it lacks a permanent building while succeeding in what matters most: supporting children's developing reading. Conversely, a compliant library may provide little meaningful support.
The problem lies not in the standards themselves but in how narrowly functionality is defined. When systems prioritise what can be inspected, photographed or audited, they risk reproducing institutional mimicry – replicating the outward form of successful systems without building the underlying capability (Pritchett et al., 2013). In such cases, remote communities are judged by criteria that are misaligned with their realities, even as they make extraordinary efforts to adapt.
The role of local and grass-roots policy work
The study also highlights that grass-roots actors do more than plug gaps; they perform policy work. By moving libraries closer to children, organising small reading groups, coordinating with village authorities and reinterpreting expectations, activists shape what library policy becomes in practice. In several instances, the village authorities began to discuss the possibility of allocating village funds to support routine library activities, seeing this as a way to secure continuity beyond project cycles. This aligns with research showing that schools and local institutions actively mediate reform rather than merely receiving it.
However, reliance on improvisation has limits. Without acknowledgement, training and predictable support, such work remains precarious. The task is not to replace formal systems with community energy but to design policy systems that recognise and protect local problem-solving. Standards should allow multiple legitimate forms of practice – fixed, shared, mobile or seasonal – so long as they demonstrably support children's reading. This implies indicators that value mediation, frequency of engagement and the relevance of materials alongside infrastructure.
Lessons for countries in the Global South
The dynamics in Greater Rawe mirror broader trends across the Global South. Many systems adopt ambitious reforms aimed at catching up with global benchmarks, especially those linked to large-scale assessments. Yet when reforms assume connectivity, advanced comprehension or high-level skills before foundational reading is secure, they often miss the learners who are most at risk (Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, 2019; Piper et al., 2018). Foundational gaps in decoding, language transition and stamina persist, and policy effort flows towards visible innovations rather than underlying constraints (Banerjee and Duflo, 2011; Evans and Popova, 2016). The lesson is not to temper ambition but to sequence it differently. Remote contexts require policies that:
Prioritise foundational literacy and mediation before complex technologies or sophisticated assessments; Allow flexible pathways to meeting standards rather than assuming uniformity; Treat grass-roots actors as legitimate partners, not temporary substitutes; Invest in proximity, bringing literacy closer to where children live.
From this perspective, libraries become central to literacy reform, provided that they are imagined not as identical units but as adaptable ecosystems rooted in place. In this respect, experiences such as the barangay reading centres in the Philippines, where rotating collections, shared responsibilities and community-linked reading spaces support access under constraints, illustrate how locally anchored models can complement national systems without attempting to replicate fully resourced urban libraries. The parallels with Greater Rawe lie not in copying specific structures but in recognising that meaningful reading opportunities often emerge when institutions evolve around the realities of remote communities, rather than the other way around.
Reframing standards: From form to function
Taken together, the findings suggest that what requires rethinking is not the existence of standards, but their orientation. Standards that privilege form risk may reproduce inequity but standards that protect function – access, mediation, continuity, relevance – can expand opportunities.. In remote communities, effective libraries may be modest, mobile and shared. They are powerful not because they conform to uniform models but because they are close, predictable and mediated. This reframing is particularly important in systems marked by Matthew-effect dynamics, where small early gains compound over time (Stanovich, 1986). Designing standards around functionality acknowledges difference while insisting on purpose: whatever their shape, libraries should reliably help children become readers.
Policy implications and practice
Policy for libraries in remote regions should begin not from uniform models but from conditions on the ground. Where distance, fragile infrastructure and language transitions shape children's reading lives, the most just approach is not identical standards but equivalent opportunities (Evans and Popova, 2016; Gruenewald, 2003).
Context-responsive policy does not lower expectations; instead, it sequences them. First, one should ensure proximity, mediation and readable collections; only then, should digital services or complex assessments be added. This means moving away from checklist compliance towards standards that protect function. Children should reach a library, find texts they can read and receive guidance to understand them (IFLA, 2015; UNESCO, 2014). Such flexibility reduces the risk of institutional mimicry – systems that resemble high-capacity contexts but remain thin at the point of use (Pritchett et al., 2013).
Sustained support for local actors
Much of what works in Greater Rawe depends on the discretionary work of activists and teachers. They perform essential street-level policy work, interpreting expectations under constraints (Lipsky, 2010). Support therefore needs to move beyond short training sessions towards long-term accompaniment – mentoring, peer learning, recognition and modest operating funds. Local actors should be treated as partners, not stopgaps. Crucially, support must not add bureaucracy. The goal is to make mediation – reading with children, guiding selection, building stamina – possible and sustainable (Todd and Kuhlthau, 2005).
Prioritising print and pedagogy
In settings with weak connectivity and fragile foundational literacy, investment priorities matter. The evidence from Greater Rawe suggests that gains stemmed from print plus pedagogy – levelled and meaningful books combined with guided practice. This echoes research showing that decoding, oral language and comprehension must be established before technology can add value (Piper et al., 2018). Policy should resist jumping too quickly to digital solutions. A curated print collection, close by and mediated by capable adults, often delivers greater benefits than expensive tools that remain underused.
Child-centred, learning-oriented indicators
To make standards more equitable, indicators must shift. Current systems reward visible infrastructure while overlooking relational work. More just indicators would track the
Regularity of reading engagement; Opportunities for guided reading and read-alouds; Availability of texts matched to language and level; Gradual gains in decoding, comprehension and confidence; Purposeful use of mother-tongue materials, religious narratives and local oral traditions as entry points into reading.
In contexts such as Greater Rawe, mother-tongue texts help children decode more easily and build comprehension before transitioning to national languages. Religious stories and moral narratives, which are already familiar and valued, offer meaningful content that encourages participation and discussion. Likewise, drawing on strong oral traditions, storytelling, chanting and communal narration allows reading activities to grow out of practices the community already recognises as legitimate forms of knowledge-sharing. Rather than being marginal additions, these strategies make libraries feel culturally grounded while supporting the gradual movement towards broader literacy goals.
Recasting libraries within national literacy agendas
Taken together, these directions reposition libraries as core elements of literacy strategy. When contextual, supported, print-rich and child-centred, they mitigate the consequences of distance and uneven schooling. When imagined primarily as structures to be accredited, they risk reinforcing inequality (Banerjee and Duflo, 2011; Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, 2019). For countries across the Global South, the key lesson is sequencing: build the conditions for reading first – proximity, mediation, appropriate texts – then layer ambition.
This article has shown that, in remote regions, the problem is rarely the absence of policy but the misalignment between standards and lived realities. Libraries in Greater Rawe worked when they became bridges – close to children, mediated by trusted adults and flexible enough to fit local rhythms. Rethinking standards from form to function, while recognising the knowledge of grass-roots actors, offers a pathway towards literacy reform that travels more justly across geography.
Limitations and future research
This study is bounded by its scale and setting. The analysis draws on qualitative data from a small number of communities in Greater Rawe and is therefore not intended to be representative. The findings should be understood as an exploration of how libraries operate within conditions of remoteness, rather than as an evaluation of programme impact. They offer insight into processes and dynamics that may be relevant elsewhere, but they do not permit generalisation.
The author's involvement in the programme implementation constitutes both a strength and a limitation. Insider knowledge provided continuity, access and a nuanced understanding of local practices. At the same time, proximity may have influenced the questions asked and the interpretations advanced. Measures such as triangulation of the data sources and paying attention to competing explanations were used to mitigate these risks; they could not, however, be fully removed.
These boundaries suggest several directions for further inquiry. Independent studies in other remote settings could examine whether similar dynamics occur under different linguistic and administrative conditions. Comparative research across regions and countries would help clarify how standards, mediation and grass-roots initiatives interact within diverse policy environments. In addition, mixed-methods work could explore possible links between reading practices observed in libraries and pupils’ longer-term learning outcomes, while ethnographic studies might document more closely the everyday work of teacher-librarians and community activists. Taken together, such research would help refine understanding of how library policy and practice can be configured so that children in remote areas experience the right to read in substantive, not merely formal, terms.
Conclusion
This article has examined how library standards and literacy policy are experienced in remote settings, using Greater Rawe in Flores Island as an illustrative case study. It asked how schools and communities navigate expectations, and how libraries contribute to children's emerging reading practices. The findings show that libraries matter most when they operate as bridges – situated close to children, supported by adults who mediate reading and organised in ways that fit local conditions.
Rather than a simple absence of policy, the central challenge in remote areas lies in the misalignment between uniform standards and everyday realities. Libraries that may appear modest in infrastructural terms can nevertheless support foundational literacy when they provide proximity, readable materials and guided practice. By contrast, libraries that comply structurally may have limited educational value if mediation is weak or their collections are poorly matched to children's needs.
Viewed through a justice lens, the right to read depends on more than formal provision. It requires conditions that make reading possible for those least likely to access books elsewhere. This implies interpreting standards contextually, focusing on function rather than form and recognising the role of local actors while strengthening the systems that support them.
The argument advanced here is not to abandon standards but to use them in ways that widen opportunities in places where distance and resource constraints are defining features. Building libraries that are reachable, mediated and stocked with appropriate texts offers a practical pathway towards more substantive experiences of literacy for children growing up far from the centre.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
This study received partial support from the Institut Teknologi Bandung Bottom-Up Scheme 2025 through the Directorate of Community Service and Expertise Services, Institut Teknologi Bandung (Contract/Project ID: 837/IT1.B07.1/TA.01/2025).
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
