Banned Book: Flamer by Mike Curato

This is the last post of the year! I will be taking a break in January and be back in February.


New on the ALA’s Banned Book list this year is the graphic novel Flamer by Mike Curato. If you’re a picture book aficionado, you might already be familiar with his work, such as the Little Elliot series.

In 2022, Flamer became challenged and banned books in the U.S. due to LGBTQIA+ content, and being considered as “sexually explicit.” Despite this, the book has received high praise from critics, but I think the blurb on the cover says it all.

This book will save lives.

Jarret J. Krosoczka

Fourteen-year-old Aiden Navarro isn’t excited to go to high school. He was frequently bullied at his Catholic middle school, and fears that public high school will be much worse. His parents’ frequent fights don’t make his home life easy, either. Thankfully, he has an escape during the summer at sleep away Boy Scout camp. Aiden loves scouting, but the Summer of ’95 isn’t going to be like any camp experience he’s had before. As the summer goes on, Aiden finds himself drawn to his confidant bunk mate, Elias. At first Aiden thinks that he admires Elias’s confidence and friendly nature. It can’t be a crush, right? That would make Aiden gay. And if being gay is a sin that can condemn you to hell (and get you kicked out of Boy Scouts), then it must be pretty bad. And Aiden isn’t a bad kid.

So he can’t be gay…right?

The last two weeks of summer camp are filled with some great memories – and also some terrible ones. Though Aiden makes great friends and loves camp, he’s also subjected to homophobic and racist bullying. When things look at their bleakest, Aiden wonders: does his life really have value?

The comic is in black and white, except when fire and a few other important objects are depicted. Flames are yellow, red, and orange, the only colors in the book. It’s used to great effect, especially in the climax and resolution.

Non-spoiler review: Flamer hits on heavy real-life topics that many tweens and teens can relate to. The main themes of identity and growing up are relevant to everyone, not just LGBTQIA+ youth. There is some mild sexual content, so I’d recommend this book to kids 13-14 and older.

I want to talk about the reasons that Flamer was challenged, banned, removed, or relocated.

One of the reasons was that Flamer is “sexually explicit.” Is it? Well, I think that depends on who you ask. Explicit-ness can be subjective and your feelings about what is and is not “sexually explicit” can change with time and experience. Some of the things that made me blush when I was fourteen I’m totally comfortable with now and I wouldn’t consider “explicit” today. Whether you find the sexual content in the book offensive or too much is really up to your own comfort levels. For me, the sexual content in Flamer was a little uncomfortable to read, but it wasn’t graphic. It seemed realistic and fit with the overall theme and story of the book. I can’t really object to it.

The other major complaint against Flamer is that it contains LGBTQIA+ content. And, well, duh. It’s a story about a young teenager accepting himself as gay.

As we saw earlier, LGBTQIA+ content was a really common reason given to challenge/ban books for the last 10 years. I won’t beat around the bush: this is homophobia and transphobia. There’s no other way to explain it. Otherwise, why would perfectly innocent (and adorable) books like And Tango Makes Three or This Day in June be challenged so frequently? I wouldn’t hand an elementary-age child Flamer; it’s not appropriate for the age group. But a cute picture book about a same-sex couple like Prince and Knight? Well, I wouldn’t have a problem suggesting that to a young child.

Because queer people (and penguins) exist. Everyone – from all walks of life – need to see themselves represented in media, but I think this is especially true for kids. Our early experiences shape our lives, and it’s important to see ourselves reflected in what we watch and read. Simply put, if you can’t see it, you can’t be it.

Beyond this point, there are going to be spoilers. If you’re interested in reading Flamer, check it out before you scroll down. I’d hate to ruin the (awesome) ending for you.

Content warning: there will be mentions of suicide from here on out. If that’s not something you want to read about, it’s okay to sit this one out. Mental health resources can be found at the bottom of this post.

Towards the end of Flamer, Aiden feels that everyone has turned against him. His best friend hasn’t written him back after he hinted at being gay in his most recent letter to her; a camp counselor he looked up to was removed from camp after he was discovered to be gay; Elias has been avoiding Aiden after Aiden surprised him with a kiss on his cheek. After yet another day of harsh bullying, Aiden can’t see how his life will ever get better. It feels like it would be better to end it now, and save himself years of misery. He runs to the camp’s outdoor chapel with a pocket knife and plans to take his own life.

Before Aiden can harm himself, he is taken to a strange place filled with darkness and fire. In a beautiful sequence, he speaks to “the fire of life” within himself. It challenges him: why is Aiden trying to destroy them both? They are not weak. They deserve to live. In this encounter, Aiden realizes that his life may not be as easy as his friends’, but it still has value. He still deserves to live. No matter what happens, he is enough. Just as he is.

It’s a powerful moment.

Even more powerful when you consider that suicide is the second leading cause of death among teens in the United Sates. LGBTQIA+ youth are at a higher risk for suicide, especially when they live in environments that are not supportive of their identities.

LGBTQ youth are not inherently prone to suicide risk because of their sexual orientation or gender identity but rather placed at higher risk because of how they are mistreated and stigmatized in society.

The Trevor Project, Facts about LGBTQ Youth Suicide, 2021

Aiden is fictional. But his feelings are real to those who’ve lived through them. The impact that Flamer can have on its readers is also very real. No matter how bad things have been for Aiden, or how bad they might get, he knows that he as value as a human being. And that’s a really great message, especially for teenagers. Even more so for LGBTQIA+ youth who need to see someone with the same struggles they’re going through, and come through it feeling strong.

One last thing to really drive the message home: Flamer is true. Well, parts of it. Flamer is a semi-autobiographical graphic novel, inspired by author and illustrator Mike Curato’s experiences as a gay Boy Scout in the 90s. In an author’s note at the end of the book, Curato shares some of his internal conflicts when he was Aiden’s age, and some memories from camp.

Including his suicide attempt in the camp’s chapel.

Curato survived, and went on to become a much-loved, award-winning illustrator. And now his story – and Aiden’s – is there to tell kids like him you are worthwhile. You are valued. You are enough.

And I cannot imagine why anyone who would be so cruel as to take that message away from kids who so badly need to hear it.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline (US): 1-800-273-8255
List of Suicide Crisis Lines (Worldwide)
The Trevor Project Lifeline: 1-866-488-7386 | Text: START to 678-678 | Online chat available
Q Chat Space

More resources can be found here: https://booksoverlookedblog.com/resources/

Banned Books 3: Other

This is the final entry of our banned books triptych. I’d wanted to talk about this in my previous post, but I got a little carried away and couldn’t find a good place for it. (tl;dr: “This is America. You want to live in North Korea, you can live in North Korea. I don’t want to. I want to live in America.” – Ron Swanson)

Now we come to the most common reason books have been challenged or banned: that strange, nebulous category of “other.” 

And let me tell you: “other” is wild. Some of my favorite reasons given include a book using the phrase “poo poo head” (Super Diaper Baby by Dav Pilkey) and the Harry Potter books for having real curses and spells.

The curses and spells used in the books are actual curses and spells; which when read by a human being risk conjuring evil spirits into the presence of the person reading the text.

Rev. Dan Reehill

I am extremely disappointed. In the many years I’ve been reading Harry Potter,  I have never once summoned an evil spirit. Not even by accident. And if those are real spells in the book, there must be a hell of a delay effect on them. There’s a few people that have overdue Avada Kedavras coming for them.

But most of the “other” reasons given are way less amusing. You can read my list here, or check out the ALA’s list of most challenged books to see reasons why books were challenged. There’s a lot to go through, so I’m only going to discuss a few here. Specifically, the ones that really grind my gears.

Think of the children! 

Books that will, somehow, damage children if they read it. This is the justification that book challengers use all the time. Some of the books whose challenges fall under this broad category are: 

Beyond Magenta: Transgender Teens Speak Out by Susan Kuklin (2015, 2019, 2021) for the effect it would have on young people
A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo by Jill Twiss (2018, 2019) – “designed to pollute the morals of its readers”
Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James (2013, 2015) – concerns that “teenagers will want to try it”
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck (2020) – negative effect of slurs on students
Prince and Knight by Daniel Haack (2019) – would lead to confusion, curiosity, and gender dysphoria

Some of these are valid concerns. I wouldn’t want teenagers reading Fifty Shades of Grey. Classics like Of Mice and Men, Huckleberry Finn, and To Kill a Mockingbird have all come under fire for racial slurs and stereotyping, and those are fair criticisms. When I read Huckleberry Finn and To Kill a Mockingbird for English class in high school, my teacher addressed the issue head-on. He told the class that these books had slurs in them, and we were going to discuss the language in the book. He also made it clear that we were not to use those words outside of book discussions. Whether this had any impact on the language the students used outside of class I couldn’t say; I didn’t hear many racial slurs being thrown around before or after we read those books. But my high school was also pretty homogeneous, with White Catholic kids as far as the eye could see. In a more diverse school, I can see how books with slurs could be a problem. 

I still love To Kill a Mockingbird, though it’s important to acknowledge its failings: White savior, slurs, and false accusations of rape. When I encountered these criticisms, it forced me to re-evaluate the novel and think about it from different perspectives. Yes, it is problematic. Does that mean it belongs in a classroom? At this point, I think there’s enough literature available by people of color telling their own stories that it can be reasonably replaced with something more relevant and less patronizing to students of color. 

Does that mean it should be removed from schools or public libraries? 

My answer should be pretty obvious. I say no. With each (worthy) critique I found of Mockingbird, it made me understand the text in a new way and look at it with a more critical eye. It’s important to revisit the classics and look over what made them great, what makes them not-so-great today, and what value they still have in the modern day. Turn those not-so-great things into discussions and teachable moments, and use them as an opportunity to practice critical thinking on something that is pertinent to today’s reality. 

Most of the other cries to “think of the children” are not so well-intentioned. As you can see in the examples given here, would-be book banners fear that kids will be exposed to anything that isn’t heterosexual and cisgendered. It’s anti-LGBTQIA+ fear mongering coming from deeply misinformed individuals at best and outright bigots at worst. Reading a book where two men fall in love is not going to make anyone gay  any more than reading a book where a man and a woman fall in love will make them straight. It’s so obvious that I shouldn’t even need to say that, but here we are. That fear alone is homophobic and transphobic, as it implies that being queer or nonbinary is lesser or undesirable.

Even without that baseless fear, these “concerned parents” don’t want kids to see LGBTQIA+ content because…well, because. Because their religion tells them it’s wrong, or because the subject makes them uncomfortable, or because they’re simply afraid of stories that introduce experiences that are different from their own. 

Censoring, challenging, and banning books with LGBTQIA+ content hurts kids. It hurts queer, questioning, and nonbinary kids who need to see themselves in media, to know that they aren’t alone. For straight, cisgender kids, they can learn empathy and become allies. Many who want LGBTQIA+ books out of school libraries cite “parental rights,” saying that parents should be able to decide what books kids can and can’t read. But what a few parents want can’t speak for every parent. Parents – especially those who have LGBTQIA+ kids – may want their kids to read books that others are fighting so hard to take away. A few parents cannot and should not speak for an entire community. 

Instead of “think of the children,” let the children think for themselves. 

This book is indoctrination! 

Of the books that I looked at, there were only two books that were explicitly accused of indoctrinating their readers: The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas, and Prince and Knight by Daniel Haack and Stevie Lewis. But books are frequently challenged because they are perceived as promoting some kind of agenda, be it religious, political, or something else. The word “indoctrination” might not be in a book challenge itself, but the fear of it is there. 

Some of the books that this would apply to:

And Tango Makes Three by Peter Parnell, Justin Richardson, and Henry Cole (2012. 2014, 2017, 2019) – “promotes the homosexual agenda”
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon (2015) – atheism
The Kite Runner by Khalid Hosseini (2012, 2014, 2017) – promotes Islam; would “lead to terrorism”
Melissa by Alex Gino (2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020) – encouraged children to change their bodies with hormones
Stamped: Racism, Anti-Racism, and You by Ibram X. Kendi and Jason Reynolds (2020) – using “selective storytelling incidents” 

Sigh. 

I once knew a man who disparaged public schools and universities, saying that all they did was brainwash students. He was homeschooled in a very Christian household, but never stopped to think that what he had learned could also be considered “brainwashing.”* His education was also based on an agenda, but one created by his family rather than the state. He was still being taught what someone else deemed to be important. The things we learn when we’re young stick with us, whether or not they’re explicitly taught. 

When you pick up a book that contains information or ideas outside your realm of experience, you can analyze it critically, you can learn from it, you can forget about it, you can close yourself off and reject it. Encountering new ideas and perspectives can be challenging. I’ve certainly experienced that.  When I read How to Be Anti-Racist by Ibram X. Kendi, I found myself bristling at some of the content. I had to remind myself that I was reading this book to learn, even if it meant reading things where my knee-jerk reaction was to reject the information. 

Books with diverse perspectives are important tools to understand the world and things outside of our experiences. Opening the world up to new ideas and helping readers to think critically about new information is the opposite of indoctrination. 

By taking books away from would-be readers (who, in terms of banned books, are mostly youth), you limit the amount and type of information they can receive. If those readers can’t have access to a wide variety of material and are limited to only reading things that are “approved” by one authority or another…

Well, that is what I call indoctrination. 

To avoid controversy/Controversial issues

Beyond Magenta: Transgender Teens Speak Out by Susan Kuklin (2015, 2019, 2021) – to “ward off complaints”
Melissa by Alex Gino (2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020) – to avoid controversy
All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brandon Kiely (2020) – “too much of a sensitive issue right now” 

Let me say this first: I get it. I’ve only had one real complaint about a book (so far) and it was a little scary. A woman was furious about a Sesame Street board book which showed the character wearing masks and social distancing. Thankfully, she didn’t make a request to remove the book from the library. I only listened to what she had to say and helped her find books for her kids (who, incidentally, were much too old for board books). It shocked me a little bit, but thankfully nothing more came of it. 

When it comes to books with controversial topics, I understand taking caution. As I mentioned in my last post, recently libraries have lost funding and even faced threats of violence for materials that they have on the shelf. 

Removing materials over challenges that may never happen is a form of self-censorship. I refer back to the ALA Library Bill of Rights, which states, in part:

II. Libraries should provide materials and information presenting all points of view on current and historical issues. Materials should not be proscribed or removed because of partisan or doctrinal disapproval.

III. Libraries should challenge censorship in the fulfillment of their responsibility to provide information and enlightenment.

I understand the fear of having “controversial” books on the shelves. But I’m also disappointed. Removing or restricting access to these books feels like capitulating to bullies. Granted, maybe there was a real fear of violence in these cases, but it’s frustrating to see. You can’t challenge censorship by removing materials for a “just in case” scenario.

And, finally, the most bonkers reason given to challenge or ban a book comes from Melissa by Alex Geno:

Because schools and libraries should not “put books in a child’s hand that require discussion”

Then what are schools and libraries for

What are books for, if not to inform and entertain? To introduce new ideas and new ways of seeing the world, even if it’s a view you’re not familiar with? To maybe even learn something new about yourself?

Schools and libraries absolutely should put books in children’s hands that require critical thinking. Books that feed curious brains and answer questions, either with facts or through the lens of fiction. This is the whole point of intellectual freedom. 

Intellectual freedom is a fundamental human right, the basis of democracy and free speech. 

And anyone who tries to abridge that freedom is a poo poo head.

*Disclaimer: This is just one example of a person I knew who was homeschooled. There are lots of good reasons to homeschool kids, and just because kids are homeschooled doesn’t mean that they’ll be closed off to new experiences.

Banned Books Week 2: The Reasons

If you want to know what the current moral panic facing America is, check the ALA’s top 10 banned books list. When you think of banned books, you might be thinking of the classics: Brave New World, Huckleberry Finn, To Kill an Mockingbird. And, sure, there are classic books that have been challenged and banned since they were first published. Just ask Toni Morrison. But in recent years, the most common reasons for challenging or banning books are for containing LBGTQIA+ content or critiques of systemic racism. Labeling a book as “sexually explicit” is another common reason, though that’s pretty much always been the case when it comes to book bans.

To show this, I’ve made a couple charts tracking the reasons why books were challenged or banned from 2012 – 2022. If you want a more detailed view, this is the spreadsheet I used to compile everything from the ALA’s lists. 

A little bit about the data here: most books have multiple reasons given for being challenged/banned. For example, Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe was challenged for LGBTQIA+ content and for being sexually explicit, so I marked it as both. “Language” can mean a few different things, depending on the book and who’s complaining about it. It might be curse words, but some books that deal with racial issues were challenged for having “divisive language.” Since one of those was a picture book, I don’t think that divisive language in that particular book was f-bombs. I’ve included racial slurs and derogatory terms in the category “language” as well. Similar to “language,” profanity can mean different things to different people, but it’s generally accepted to mean swearing. I’ve combined “racism” and “racial stereotypes” into one category, since you typically don’t get one without the other. I’ve also combined drugs and alcohol into the same category, though books that are challenged for drug use may not include alcohol use, and vice versa. 

All in all, the reasons given to ban or challenge books in the past 10 years looks a little something like this: 

From 2012 to 2022, the three most common were “other”, “sexually explicit”, and “LGBTQIA+ content.” I’ll talk about “other” in a later post. Right now, I want to go over “sexually explicit.” 

As I’ll talk about in another post, “sexually explicit” can mean a lot of things. It can mean graphic sex scenes, steamy scenes, sexual assault, nudity (both sexual and nonsexual), and anything in between. What I find sexually explicit may not be what you find sexually explicit. 

Books with LGBTQIA+ content also tend to be called “sexually explicit” more frequently than books without it, even if the content is pretty mild. I can’t think of a book where this is more obvious than Drama by Raina Telgemeir. In one scene, two boys kiss. It’s a first kiss, innocent and sweet. If it had been a boy and a girl kissing, no one would bat an eye. 

Are you ready for this? Ready for this borderline pornographic scene?

No one tell the concerned parents how Shakespeare plays were originally cast.

Which brings me to my next point: challenging and banning books with LGBTQIA+ content. You’ve probably heard about this, since it’s becoming scarily common. These aren’t just parents showing up at school board meetings or quietly filling out a “request for reconsideration” form at a library. It’s a school board member filing a criminal complaint against Flagler Schools for having an “obscene” book in the school library.

 Or public libraries losing funding for having LGBTQIA+ materials.

 Or multiple bomb threats made against public libraries for carrying LGBTQIA+ materials.

This scares the shit out of me. To be totally honest, I think it’s a matter of time before a library worker is seriously injured or even killed due to this anti-LGBTQIA+ moral panic. But at least there’s an injunction against the Arkansas law that would prosecute librarians and booksellers for having materials that are “harmful” to minors in their collections, right?

Challenges to books with LGBTQIA+ content are obvious homophobia and transphobia. Censoring these materials attempts to erase already marginalized people and groups who have been unseen for centuries. The same can be said for books that confront systemic racism in America. In both cases, censorship acts to hide away authentic stories and information. Taken to the extreme, it could mean that only material that’s ultimately harmful to marginalized groups could remain on the shelves, further perpetuating homophobia, transphobia, and racism. These books combat this ugliness by exposing it. And if it makes you uncomfortable, good. Homophobia should be uncomfortable. Racism should be uncomfortable. 

And if it makes you feel seen and validated, or comforted to know that there is someone out there who feels like you do, sees the world like you do, or just makes you feel like you’re not alone…even better. 

Accessibility is about power, gatekeeping is founded on the protection of power, and to all of that I say: fuck that, because information that can change lives should never be hoarded.

Prisca Dorcas Mojica Rodriguez, For Brown Girls with Sharp Edges and Tender Hearts

The rash of censorship spreading across school and public libraries, and even private businesses, is appalling on every level. 

You cannot say you are protecting children and at the same time take away the things that validate who they are.

You cannot claim to uphold family values while calling in bomb threats.

You cannot say you value freedom and free speech and actively call for censorship.

Banned Books Week 1: Intellectual Freedom

I can only remember my reading choices being called into question three times.

First, when I was in elementary school, my aunt saw me reading some sort of business-type book by Scott Adams, the creator of Dilbert. I was skipping the text and reading the comic strips that had been inserted on each page. My aunt laughed and asked if I understood what I was reading. I told her I was only reading the comics. She asked if I understood the comics, which I mostly didn’t, and I told her, “Some of them.”

The second time was probably in the summer of 1997, making me eight years old. I was eagerly reading a Newsweek article about the recently-launched Sojourner Mars rover. My mom asked me if I understood what I was reading. I was an above-average reader for my age, but Newsweek was still beyond me. I had no idea what the article was saying. I lied and told her that I understood it all.

The last time came when I was sixteen or seventeen, and reading The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer. Whenever I set it down, I was very careful to always place it cover side up, lest someone be weirded out by the summary on the back. When I did leave it upside down once, though, my mom read the summary and asked, “What is this book you’re reading?” Considering that the summary talks about opium and a boy being harvested from a cow’s womb, I’m not surprised that it raised a few eyebrows. When I told her it was sci-fi about clones and I also thought it was weird, but good. She just kind of went, “all right then” and didn’t ask again.

But at no point has anyone ever told me, “I don’t like that, so you can’t read it.” No one has ever tried to take a book from me because it was too advanced, or because they were uncomfortable with the subject matter. I got to read whatever I wanted, even if my parents didn’t love all of it. Though my mom might occasionally “check in” if I was reading a book with mature themes, she trusted me to make my own decisions when it came to reading. Some kids aren’t that lucky.

Let’s talk about banned books.

This is the week to do it, after all. Banned Books Week was established in 1982 by the Office of Intellectual Freedom (OIF), a subdivision of the American Library Association (ALA), in response to a sudden uptick in book bans and challenges that year.

Notably, the subject of book bans made it all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court in 1982, in the case Island Tree Schools School District v. Pico. The school district had removed 11 books from the high school and middle school libraries, which the school board decreed were, “anti-American, anti-Christian, anti-Sem[i]tic, and just plain filthy.” A group of five students, led by high school senior Steven Pico, filed suit against the school board. They alleged that removing books from their school violated their First Amendment rights. In a 5-4 decision, the Supreme Court ruled that school boards did not have the right to remove books from the school library “simply because they dislike the ideas contained in those books and seek by their removal to ‘prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion.'”

Five kids stood up for their intellectual freedom, and they saved their right to information. But book bans and challenges are still happening today, and at an alarming and unprecedented rate.

So I want to dedicate this and the next few posts to Banned Books Week, taking a look at intellectual freedom, and the threats it faces.

But first: What is intellectual freedom?

Librarians don’t take an oath when we graduate,* but if we did, it would probably look like the Library Bill of Rights. To shrink it down into just three main tenets, the Library Bill of Rights says (in brief)

  1. Everyone has a right to information, regardless of their age, sex, race, religion, orientation, gender identity, etc.
  2. Libraries facilitate these rights by providing information from all points of view, and need to challenge censorship or attempts to restrict anyone’s freedom to read and learn.
  3. Everyone has a right to privacy, and libraries need to safeguard the privacy of everyone who uses them.

I could talk about the right to privacy and libraries for a long time, but for this post, I’ll be sticking to those first two tenets. In a nutshell, this is intellectual freedom. Everyone has a right to information from all points of view, without restriction. And it’s not just me saying that. The U.N. agrees.

Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.

U.N.’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights

Censorship, book bans, and challenges all restrict our human right to information.

I’m going to pre-empt one of the most common (if not the most common) arguments for book challenges and bans: “Think of the children!”

As a youth librarian, I work with all ages of kids, from babies to teenagers. I obviously wouldn’t hand a three-year-old and a thirteen-year-old the same book. Likewise, two kids of the same age can have entirely different reading and maturity levels. A book that’s perfect for one kid might be totally wrong for another. That’s fine – there is no single book that is perfect for every person. Adults can and should provide guidance for kids when it comes to their media consumption, including books.

What shouldn’t be done is deprive others of the opportunity to access those materials. There are plenty of books that I don’t like, and ones that I disagree vehemently with. I choose not to read those books, or to read them with a critical eye. Just because I don’t like Red, White, and Royal Blue doesn’t mean that I can take it away from everyone else who might want to read it.

One more thing that I haven’t addressed yet: the right to receive information from all points of view.

This can be a hard thing when it comes to selecting materials for libraries. For instance, political pundits espouse plenty of opinions I disagree with. Yet they still have fans who want to hear from them, and who will eagerly dive into any book their favorite commentator puts out. Even if it’s misleading or potentially harmful.

At times, this has been really difficult for me. I mostly deal with juvenile and YA fiction, so I don’t have to decide if a book like Why Women Shouldn’t Vote** by John “Women are Intimidated by How Smart I Am” Smith belongs in a library. But I still have to make choices like:

Is this book where the characters appropriate sacred Indigenous practices something we want in our collection?
This books has strong misogynistic content, but the movie is extremely popular and it’s trending on #BookTok. Do we buy it?
The teens really enjoy rom-coms, but this one starts after a girl is kissed by a stranger in the dark. How would that be interpreted by the teens who read it?
This author is a slimeball and criminal, but his books get checked out a lot. Is it okay for me to buy this book and support him financially? Or is it better for me to order it so fewer people need to go out and buy the book?

I have to take all of these questions on a book-by-book basis. I reject many books because I feel that they would not suit our library patron’s needs, and I purchase others that I would never choose for myself because I know the patrons will like them. These are the times that I need to separate my professional ethics from my personal beliefs.

Everyone still has a right to read these books, no matter what your beliefs are. The library’s role is not to sort out what should and shouldn’t be read, but to provide information to those who seek it. Intellectual freedom is a human right, and Banned Books Week is a challenge to anyone who would take away that right.

So crack open The Bluest Eye, pull your copy of Perks of Being a Wallflower off the shelf, and dare to check out Flamer. Let freedom read.


*We do, however, get a cardigan alongside our diploma.
**Not a real book. I hope.