Banned Books Month: Guest Post from Carrie Mac: Dear Book Banner…

Dear Book Banner,

Lothrop, Lee & Shepard, August 1982

We’ve met, a few times now.  Often enough that I can usually see you coming.

We have history, you and I.

When I was a little, you were the teacher who took LITTLE BLACK SAMBO right out of my hands, never mind what I think of it now.

You were the librarian who saw me return HIROSHIMA NO PIKA and promptly pulled it from the children’s collection.

You were the other librarian who said I was too young to sign out anything by Stephen King or anything else from the adult collection, for that matter.

My mother took care of that.  Thanks, Mom.

You were my friend’s mom who wouldn’t let her read DEENIE because of the masturbation scene.

You are the copy editor who I argue with over words like fuck, or cocksucker, or retard, no matter the context.

You are the parents who email me and tell me that my books are filth, yet you never seem to articulate why, other than the simplest of vitriol.

You are that parent at the park who told me that the author of CAPTAIN UNDERPANTS should be shot.

You are the school principal who won’t book me to speak because I always make a point of coming out as queer when I present to schools.

A stack of Carrie Mac’s books.

You are the school district that banned THE BECKONERS altogether, just because one parent accused it of being vulgar and offensive.

But worse, you are all the people who have the power to bring books to children and teenagers, and simply don’t.

You don’t even let the books into your libraries, classrooms, bookstores, or home bookshelves in the first place.

This is perhaps your worst offense.  Because if your kid or student or patron never meets the book in the first place, you’ve denied them the chance to make their own decision about it.

That book that mentions child abuse that your nine-year-old student doesn’t read because it’s not there?  It could’ve stopped what was happening at home.

That story about the queer teenager who comes out and everything turns out absolutely okay?  That might’ve stopped him from hanging himself.

That story about the kid with two moms?  That would’ve gone a long way to spreading acceptance.

That picture book about the boy who loves to wear dresses?  Better to let him see himself represented than to give him the impression that he is a freak all alone in the world.

The trilogy that challenges the very existence of God?  It could’ve deepened your teenager’s faith.

Those books about witches and fairies and zombies?  Those are imaginary creatures, hon. It’s just a good story.  Your kids knows that.

They’re not going to turn into a witch, or a fairy, or a zombie.

Well, probably not.  And even if they did, they probably would have anyway, whether they read a book about it or not.

I want to let you know, dear Book Banner, that I’ve struggled with my own urge to get rid of a book in my local library.

North-South Books, August 2006.

It’s called DEAR LITTLE LAMB, and it’s about a wolf that lures a lamb to meet him, showering her with sweet words and promising her all kinds of treats if she secretly runs away with him.  When the lamb’s mother finds out, she foils his predatory plan, but instead of getting justice, the she flees with her lamb, all the way to Australia to get far, far away from the wolf’s clutches.  This is a picture book.   That my kid read.  About a child predator who gets to move on to his next victim.

I don’t think it should be in the library.

I don’t think it should’ve been published.

And I told our librarian so.  I asked why they’d order such an awful book in the first place?

She said that they never remove a book from circulation based on a complaint about the content.

Of course they don’t.  And once I calmed down, I thanked her for that.

Because if they did pull books whenever there was a complaint, there wouldn’t be many books left on the shelves.

So I did what I ask of other people; I used the story to talk to my kids.  Which is likely what the author had in mind when she wrote it.

We talked about how the lamb should’ve talked to her mama right away.  And how it’s never okay for a grown-up to ask a child to keep secrets, no matter what.

Oh, dear Book Banner, this letter could go on, and on.

We have so much to talk about.

But for now, know this; I’m not here to tell you to go away.

I’m not even going to ask you to stop.

I get that you think that you’re doing the right thing.  The righteous thing.

Orca Soundings, September 2014.

So you and your buddies can go right ahead and keep shouting about that offensive book.  You keep waving it around, and generally making a fuss like so many chickens squawking and clucking and being miserable.

Go ahead and flap those wings.

Light your matches and burn away, because in doing so, you’re sending a message to the rest of us.

You’re telling us that something in that book made you angry.  Or ashamed, or embarrassed, or afraid for your children.

You’re telling us that the words the writer strung together into a book shape made you FEEL.

And so they should.

All writers want their readers to feel.

That means that we did our job well, and we moved you.

What you do with that emotion is up to you.

And what I do with that emotion is up to me.

In time, your students and children and patrons will read past your limits, your fears, your ignorance.

Their curiosity will take them those places you wouldn’t let them go, or that you never let them know existed.

They will find the books about themselves.

They will read the stories that make them feel, and they will form their own opinions, independent of yours.

In the meantime, you go ahead and keep banning books.

One thing is true of every book that has ever been banned; it gets a huge amount of attention, and as a result, more people read it.

And then they talk about it.

Mission accomplished.

So, thank you for encouraging the conversation.

And as a writer whose books have been banned, thank you for the boost in sales.

Sincerely,

Carrie Mac

Carrie Mac.

Carrie Mac is the author of ten novels for teenagers.  She is also the resident storyteller at www.thestoryforest.com.  She lives in Vancouver with her partner and two children.