This week marks Banned Books Week, the American Library Association’s (ALA’s) annual event celebrating of “the freedom to read” and drawing attention to the “harms of censorship.” With record numbers of bans across the country, the need for such awareness is greater than ever. But I’m also here to remind us: It’s about more than just the books.
First, let’s look at the ban numbers. The ALA has documented 1,915 unique titles that were challenged (targeted for removal or restriction) in libraries between January 1 and August 31, 2023, an increase of 20% from the same period in 2022, putting us on track for another record year.
PEN America, which looks specifically at bans in public schools, has documented 3,362 instances of books banned (removed or restricted) during the 2022–23 school year, an increase of 33 percent from the same period in 2021–22. Over 40 percent of all book bans were in school districts in Florida, followed by Texas, Missouri, Utah, and Pennsylvania.
National conservative organizations are behind many of the bans, PEN America said, creating lists of objectionable books, training people on how to challenge books in their schools and libraries, and advocating for state legislation such as Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay/Trans” law that creates sweeping bans. “Eighty-seven percent of all bans were recorded in school districts with a nearby chapter or local affiliate of a national advocacy group known to advocate for book censorship,” it said, noting that 63% of all bans were in eight states with legislation “that has either directly facilitated book bans or created the conditions for local groups to pressure and intimidate educators and librarians into removing books.”
PEN America also found that, as in recent years, the bans “overwhelmingly” targeted books (from picture books through young adult titles) on race or racism and those featuring characters of color and/or LGBTQ characters. They also include “books on physical abuse, health and well-being, and themes of grief and death.” The ALA likewise found that most challenges were to books “written by or about a person of color or a member of the LGBTQ community.”
If you think the bans are just about books with sexual content, think again. Many schools have banned LGBTQ-inclusive books that simply show LGBTQ characters in their daily lives. In a recent example in Florida, the Charlotte County School District in July ordered librarians to remove all books with LGBTQ characters or themes from classrooms and libraries, according to reporting by journalist Judd Legum of Popular Information. Furthermore, when asked whether student-selected books for silent reading or book reports could include LGBTQ characters or themes, as long as they weren’t pornographic, Superintendent Mark Vianello responded, “These characters and themes cannot exist.” (While the district later asserted that such books are still allowed in high school libraries, Legem obtained logs showing that “numerous” books with LGBTQ characters were removed from the district’s high school libraries just before the start of the school year. As of this writing, he is awaiting a response from the district on why they were removed.)
These thousands of bans impact millions of children—both those whose identities and family members’ identities are found in the banned books, and children of other identities who are being denied the opportunity to understand the world and people around them. As ALA President Emily Drabinski observed in a press statement, the banned book numbers alone do not reveal “the people who want books that speak to their lived experience and librarians who want to make books accessible to people who find them relevant. Both are under attack.”
The problem goes beyond just wanting to see one’s own and others’ lived experiences in books, though. There’s a fine and fuzzy line between banning books about certain identities and stopping people of those identities (or with family members of those identities) from being themselves, talking honestly about their experiences, or even being part of the community. The book bans, in prohibiting certain representation, raise the question of whether children who themselves embody that representation will be allowed to speak or write at school about their own identities and families. This is a particular concern in the 11 states with so-called “Don’t Say Gay/Trans” laws—but even in other states, book bans and the discourse around them may make teachers and administrators reluctant to allow such expression in classrooms (or even in hallways), and students themselves may hesitate.
Erasure of identities is happening at schools in other ways, too, notably through laws and policies that ban or restrict transgender and nonbinary students from using the names, pronouns, and bathroom facilities aligned with their genders, from playing on sports teams aligned with their genders, and that allow school personnel and other students to misgender them. These are often driven by the same conservative organizations behind the book bans.
As we continue to fight book bans, then, we must remember that ultimately, the reason for doing so is not only about the books, nor even about giving children diverse, inclusive representation (although that is an important component). At heart, it’s about creating environments in which children are able and encouraged to express who they truly are. It’s not just about the freedom to read. It’s about the freedom to be.
Originally published as my Mombian newspaper column.