The West Virginia House of Delegates is making news by passing a bill that removes an exemption for schools and libraries from long-existing laws that punish the intentional distribution of obscene materials to minors. Under the law, adults who willfully and knowingly distribute “obscene” materials to minors can be held criminally liable for up to $25,000 in fines and up to five years’ imprisonment. The justification behind the bill that has forwarded to the West Virginia Senate lies in the question of why would adults whose job description is teacher or librarian be treated differently than any other adult in the state?
To be clear, nothing in the new law in any way prohibits parents from buying “obscene” materials for their children, and the definition of obscenity (see link above) is clear enough and graphic enough that it is not suitable for presentation here in this post. This is not the pornography that Justice Stewart would famously know when he saw it. The definition is really pretty clear. Libraries in West Virginia will be free to have in their stacks as many lascivious materials as they wish; they just have to make sure that minors can’t get their hands on it.
As the author of Nathan’s Run, one of the 100 most banned books in America, I feel that I have a dog in this fight, but I’m not sure who I want the dog to bite. To be honest, while the story features a 12-year-old boy, I never intended that it be considered a book that was appropriate for children. It wasn’t until the American Library Association bestowed the book with an Alex Award that school librarians placed orders for their shelves. Many, many parents were offended by some of the plot points and dialogue, and I understand why.
That said, we’re not talking American Psycho here. There’s graphic violence and bad language (409 bad words according to one letter I received) but there’s no gore porn. Still, I would never question the choices parents make on behalf of their children’s book shelves–or those of the libraries in the schools their children attend.
What I don’t understand is the perceived harm of kids seeing pictures or reading stories that Mommy and Daddy don’t want them to see–presuming that the materials are themselves legal to possess. I learned a lot when my next door neighbor, Sharon, showed me her father’s Playboys behind the hedges in front of their house. Would my mom have been upset if she found out? Oh, yeah, but how would she have found out? And where was the harm?
Reading is one of the finest ways to discover the world, and reading some of my mother’s romance novels during my adolescence cleared up a few important details while raising lots of new questions which I dared not ever ask. That was an essential part of my childhood.
The recent societal emphasis on inclusion and diversity has catapulted new angles on behavior and sexuality that has left many of my generation stunned and dizzy. “Why on earth should we be talking about that in third grade? What happened to innocence?” Change the timeframe to sixth grade, and I’m confident that that’s what Mom would have wondered if she’d found out about Sharon and I behind the hedges, and what happened was the kind of frightened fumbling nothingness that is the very definition of innocence.
The imagery and angry discourse of social media has, I believe, done more to shatter the old notions of childhood innocence than any library could possibly do. Instead of scouring literature to hunt down and identify racial stereotypes and gender roles that offend us, perhaps we should accept the notion that being offended is a part of life that each of us has to work through. Rather than getting wrapped around the axle about the epithets Huck Finn uses to refer to Jim, we should learn from the adventures these great friends shared together.
My question to you, dear Killzone family, is where do we find the balance between parental authority and librarian responsibility? Please keep politics out of it.
West Virginia expat here. And a parent, grandparent, and recovering child, who like you, partook in Playboys and bathroom humor that would offend my mom. Restraining the curiosity of kids about fruit, sanctioned or forbidden, is like preventing water from seeking its own level. I think it’s up to parents to decide how high to build their dam, but I reserve the right to build my own. I don’t want librarians restrained by those who want to take that right from me. Parents are free to find individual solutions how to build their dams, whether through homeschooling or perhaps foolish permissiveness. The realm of the librarian is to let water flow, not to do a parent’s job.
At the public library system I worked at my entire career, we emphasized that parents were the ultimate arbiters of what children could read or watch. We didn’t have children’s cards, instead, parents were welcome to hold on to their child’s card and monitor what they checked out, which worked well for very young children up to, perhaps third grade.
I remember well a conversation back in the late 1990s with a mother who wanted me to prevent her fifth grade son from borrowing what I would describe as a mild fantasy novel because she was concerned about him reading about magic. I said I could not, and encouraged her to talk with her son.
Movies were an obvious concern, and again, we would underscore parental primacy in deciding what was appropriate for their children to watch.
Our responsibility as public librarians was in curating a collection of books, periodicals, music, movies etc that contained items of interest for a wide variety of people and help people connect with books etc that might speak to them. On more than on occasion I had a patron ask why I allowed trashy books (AKA romance novels) in the library. The answer was we had readers who enjoyed romance novels. And that included teens, who often read more than “just” young adult novels, especially older teens (I was one in high school who read adult thriller novels).
The core issue is what is age appropriate. No one is banning books, no more than enforcing age restrictions on the purchase of alcohol is prohibition. The books in question are still available. Parents who have no problem with their ten year olds reading Girl 2 Girl are free to buy it.
Ah, Justice Stewart!
I am in Missouri. One school district still bans the American Heritage dictionary, because it will tell you the correct usage and meaning of America’s favorite F word (and a few other words as well).
Every year my children would take the signed permission slip that any book in the school library they could check out.
Libraries should have broad discression about books on the current ban lists. I know way to many young people who want and need to know that there are other people like them. People born in the wrong bodies. People attracted to the same gender. Some of the young people I know have loving supportive families who will find a new home for the dresses their now son won’t wear again. Some have parents who will unalive them for kissing another boy.
My good friend is the mother of a middle schooler. After asking mom, the 8th grader got a copy of the Graphic Novel version of Anne Frank for her birthday. And the warning not to take it to school. It is banned by her school district.
One of the most profound times of life, I think, is the moment when a child is born and the parents suddenly realize they have responsibility for another human being for the next 18 years. Although I may agree or disagree with the way someone else chooses to raise their children, I applaud the parents who take their job seriously.
I saw (and didn’t verify, but it appeared to be real based on comments), a permission slip for a Miami-Dade (where my kids began their public school education) elementary school child to participate in listening to a book being read by an Afro-American author. It’s one thing to require a permission slip if it’s an activity outside the classroom (the slip said “Library” but it wasn’t clear if it was the school library or off campus.
Why do they have to specify the ethnicity of the author? How far are we going?
Perhaps we should get away from the “what”-is-banned question, and ask “why”? I doubt anybody anywhere was just sitting around one day and said, “Well, I’ve got nothing else to do, I’ll complain to the library about a book.” Maybe parents are raising questions about books because they see certain ideas, philosophies, ideologies contained within them that they really question, especially for younger kids. They hear news stories about teachers telling kids they’re really not little boys or little girls, they can be the other one if they want, and these are kids who haven’t yet learned to tie their shoes. Do parents overreach sometimes? Of course. But when it comes to one’s children, perhaps it’s better to be overly cautious than not cautious enough.
This brings to mind a similar discussion recently posted on a GrimDark writers group that I follow on FB.
Should we restrain ourselves from using “big words?”
I agreed with the “No!” side. Write what YOU want to write and let the readers decide if they want to read it.
That stands true for reading in general. Who am I to decide for others (by voting for restrictive laws) when I wouldn’t want others deciding such things for me? I don’t have children, which makes me feel even less a part of deciding for other people’s children. That’s their job as parents.
I dont see how this kind of parental filtering (at their own personal level!) is any different than what they should be doing for their child’s internet exposure. We all know that is far more vast than could ever be contained in a single brick and mortar building.
Librarians are already expected to be so many things far beyond the scope of their work: social worker, elder care, community activist, etc., etc. Individual parenting seems to be yet another task unfairly laid on their shoulders.
I completely agree with you, John, on the idea to “accept the notion that being offended is a part of life that each of us has to work through.”
Again, it comes back to doing the work yourself rather than expecting others to do it for you.
Life is SO subjective!
As a child, I read far and above my “expected level.” It exposed me to a far vaster vocabulary and frame of mind. And I’m deeply grateful for that. I couldn’t have gained that without tapping into what was readily available at both school and public library.
I, too, like to throw in one or two unusual words in most of what I write. The reverse policy will lead to public vocabularies shrinking to only the most common locutions.
Back in the day our lives weren’t complicated by “YA or not YA.” There were just books to read. Is _Nathan’s Run_ YA because it centers on a 12-year-old? Then _The Diary of Ann Frank_ would also be YA. If a book doesn’t center on a child in the right age, does that make it non-YA?
Or does YA denote books of a certain level of sophistication and difficulty? Or of a certain level of grimness, salaciousness, or violence? I understand that _The Book Thief_ is considered YA, although its content is certainly grim and heavy.
The only thing I remember my parents not wanting me to read was _An American Tragedy_ by Dreiser, which I had pulled off their bookshelf. I never did read it, but from what Wikipedia says, it was probably good that I didn’t read it in the 5th or 6th or 7th grade. But I was reading _A Tale of Two Cities_ and studying the _Life Picture History of World War II_.