Book swap on bus would be a bigger deal today

When I was in grade school, I traded a kid on the bus for some pornography.

In return for a few comic books, he gave me a hardback fantasy novel about questing elves who took occasional timeouts for some elf-on-elf, elf-on-dwarf and elf-on-dragon … uh, jousting.

By “occasional,” I mean every five or six pages. It’s surprising they got anywhere, really.

I don’t remember many details about the book because I didn’t get to keep it very long. Later that day, when I was devouring it with apparently too much googly-eyed interest, even for a kid who loved to read, my mom asked to take a look.

Did I mention it was profusely illustrated?

One feverish phone call later, Mom arranged for me to return the book and get my comic books back. Turns out Superman beating the screws off some robot was more acceptable than second-rate Tolkien wannabes fogging up the Misty Mountains.

It wasn’t a big deal. Principals were not mobilized. Students were not suspended. School boards were not called upon to resign.

I have a feeling my rescinded trade would be a bigger deal in today’s hypersensitive society, where every scintilla of material is poured through the moral strainer and only the purest stuff is allowed to reach our kids.

It’s going on in Hudson, where the mayor has called on the school board to resign over a book of writing prompts, which had been used for five years in a college course taught at the local high school. Some of the 642 writing prompts dealt with mature subjects (re: sex), which the teacher had told students to disregard.

Nobody’s psyches were scarred and nobody’s sensibilities were offended, at least until the whole thing blew up into a witch hunt with no actual witches, just some words circling the page.

It’s that kind of knee-jerk reaction that National Banned Books Week, celebrated this year from Sept. 26-Oct.2, is designed to combat.

Sponsored by the American Library Association’s Office for Intellectual Freedom, Banned Books Week publicizes a list of books most often banned (actually removed from shelves) and challenged (complained about). A successful challenge leads to a ban. An unsuccessful challenge leaves the book on the shelves for others to read.

Since most challenges take place over books in public schools, funded by tax dollars, any removal of such material meets the definition of “government censorship,” which should concern everybody – Democrat, Republican, moderates, rich, poor, young and old. Nobody should want to live in a world where inquisitive minds are kept away from materials.

Among the most challenged books from 2020 are “Stamped: Racism, Anti Racism, and You,” “All-American Boys” and “Speak,” along with perennial listmakers like “To Kill a Mockingbird” and “Of Mice and Men.”

And if you didn’t care or said “right on” to the first three titles, but felt your outrage revving from zero to one hundred when you saw the last two, might I humbly suggest you are part of the problem?

Today’s world is challenging and complex. Our reading choices, and those of our children, should reflect this complexity. Parents have every right to shield their children from material with which they disagree (much like my mom, who recognized that an eight-year-old didn’t need Naughty Bits Tolkien on his shelf). This includes asking for alternative reading assignments when the material in a class may be too triggering, although the ability is properly curtailed when children are taking college-level classes at a younger age.

But parental authority stops with your own child. To force your views and restrictions on other people’s children denies them the opportunity to find those special titles that will speak to them through the years, the way “To Kill a Mockingbird” and “Of Mice and Men” resonate with certain readers of my generation.

It’s cliche to say we should celebrate Banned Books Week by reading one, but it’s still the best corrective action. When we’re done reading, we should talk about the book with others, expressing our wonderment, questions, and even outrage.

And know that, if the book were banned, the conversation couldn’t happen at all.

Reach Chris at chris.schillig@yahoo.com or @cschillig on Twitter.