Censorship in Action

Officials at the West Bend library in Milwaukee Wisconsin have grappled with a number of challenges over the last few months, coming from several directions, including a challenge by Jim and Ginny Maziarka to have certain young adult books deemed sexually explicit removed from the young adult section and segregated from the rest of the library, or failing that, be labeled in some way to warn teens and parents that these novels are explicit.

Since I fall into the young adult category myself, following this challenge has left me gaping in sheer frustration at the futility of what these individuals were attempting and cheering the library trustees. Sex is a part of young adult literature, mainly because many teens, especially older teens, engage in it. The arguments can rage round and round about whether it is proper for this to happen and about how to warn teens of the dangers inherent in this particular activity, and those are valid arguments, I agree, especially how to convey to teens safe responsible ways of engaging in sex. However, segregating a book can often prove just as ineffective as celibacy vows or abstinence education at preventing a teen from engaging in the act.

Besides the sheer ineffectiveness of this ploy, these novels often portray committed loving relationships which simply happen to include sex. Annie on My Mind is an excellent example. In this novel, it was incredibly obvious that the two female leads were having sex, although it was not described graphically. However, they were also shown talking, laughing, and simply loving one another. Although, now that I look back, that was perhaps not the best example to use since it always tops the ALA’s top ten challenged books of the year and top 100 of the decade lists since it involves two girls. But no matter who it involves, is it not better for teens to either see committed loving relationships from the beginning or see the person mature from the shallow “give me sex, sex, and more sex” mentality to desiring a committed relationship, as happens in many other novels?

Even plays and novels written for adults often have this particular element.  Look at, for instance, The Crucible, by John Proctor. In the play, John goes from wanting Abigail Williams, the daughter of the local reverend, who I could write an article about in her own right but.., to reaffirming his love and commitment to his wife, Elizabeth. The fact that this comes directly before his hanging for being a witch really isn’t the point. Many teens find themselves reflected in these types of stories, without feeling dirty or immoral, and giving them positive images of being committed at the end of these novels will perhaps encourage them to eventually become committed. Or not; it really isn’t any of our business.

The next challenge for the library: a complaint filed by Robert C. Braun, an area citizen who is also a member of the Christian Civil Liberties Union, seeking the right to publicly burn, or in some other way, destroy Baby Be-Bop by Francesca Lia Block. The complaint also seeks compensatory damages of $120,000 dollars, to be split between himself and two other plaintiffs, for the emotional damage of simply passing by this book on library shelves, as well as the firing of the city mayor for allowing the book to be displayed.

Baby Be-Bop is about a young gay man struggling for his identity, who after a beating is visited by his ancestors, who recount their own struggles to love in freedom and equality. Many of his ancestors resided in the Deep South, which resulted in the novels being peppered with epithets against Negroes.  The complainants allege that the sexually explicit, as well as racially violent, epithets can cause violence and loss of life to adults and children. I am rather confused as to what makes this relevant to the claim, unless they are arguing that teens might pick it up and then use the epithets to provoke violence. However, since the main character is gay, I seriously doubt that most teens who weren’t already interested in the subject matter would read through his struggle for identity merely to find names to call other people.  To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee has been bombarded with similar complaints, especially because of its racial epithets. Again, I simply gape.

The book is over five hundred pages; do these people really believe it will be a sourcebook of slurs for children and teens?  They wouldn’t get fifty pages in, unless they were interested in the story or had to read it for a class assignment. Individuals argue that having students read it in class is dangerous because the language could provoke violence. However, having read To Kill a Mockingbird, both within a class setting and as leisure reading, I can tell you that the impression I came away with was of brave people fighting intolerance the best way they could. This is the same impression I have of the incredible librarians all across the nation who are working to preserve free speech, the very thing which allowed these complaints to be filed in the first place.