The Correlation Between Banned Books and Controversial Themes

 

Source: 30 essential LGBTQ+ books for YA readers (abebooks.com)

Throughout these posts, we've focused on the different defensive positions of reading interests between parents and school boards, teachers and students, and even students against themselves. I would now like to investigate the relationship between banned books and the reason as to why. We have discussed the various themes that cause a book to be challenged, but one theme in particular sticks out that is creating waves in literary requirements and expectations.

First, let's take a look at a study conducted by Gay Ivey and Karen Broaddus of James Madison University. They analyzed the reading patterns of middle schoolers in two distinct areas of America (one in the Northeast and the other in a rural setting in the south), in order to observe a diverse range of students. After surveying nearly 2,000 sixth graders, they came to 3 conclusions regarding students' reasons for reading:

1. Books aren't geared towards middle schoolers. The "curriculum and instruction were not designed to meet their particular needs" as developing readers and maturing people (Ivey & Broaddus 353).
2. There is a disconnection between what students learn in school with what they read. According to the study, "Without appropriate instruction, [students] may be further complicated by subject matter that is uninteresting, difficult to understand, or both" (Ibid).
3. Students don't like to read school materials read outside of school, developing different skills than what is taught of expected of them.

What's the common denominator among these 3 conclusions? Content. Students want to read books that relate to them. Some may argue that they need books that relate to them, to give them an example of who to emulate and to represent their age group more accurately. 

What it comes down to is choice. One side will argue that freedom to pick what you want to read is critical in cultivating a love of reading in kids. Turner and Paris state how, “Allowing students to make choices encourages them to develop an interest in literacy, and it provides students with an opportunity to plan and regulate their literacy learning” (Clark and Phythian-Sence 4). They pick books according to their interests, which, according to another study by Flowerday and colleagues promotes a more positive attitude towards reading in general (Ibid 12). In the Ivey and Broaddus survey, they recorded several students' preferences for reading, whether that was silent reading time or a teacher reading a book out loud. A majority of the 1,765 students they observed admitted that given the time, space, and accessibility to read allowed them to develop a genuine passion for the activity. One student commented how, "Well I don’t really like books that are boring. I like the books that are exciting" (Ivey and Broaddus 361). Ultimately, a "'Good choice' therefore involves pupils choosing a book that they are also motivated to read" (Clark and Phythian-Sence 13).

This idea ties into the criticism choosing one's own books has in the classroom setting. Teachers and parents will argue that their kids won't take the decision seriously, picking books that are not intellectually stimulating or in possession of some academic merit. Literally, students judge a book by its cover. If it looks intriguing, they'll consider it over something that does not initially grip their attention (Ibid 5). Lastly, "The negative effects of providing choice in a non-systematic manner can be compounded by a chooser’s lack of knowledge or lack of confidence about making a choice" (Ibid 4). 

As a kid, I wasn't allowed to read Harry Potter. It was my parents' rule and I accepted it on the basis that they knew something about it I didn't/should never be exposed to. So I opted for other fantasy books in that realm: Narnia, Lord of the Rings, and even quick series like Anne of Green Gables or The Penderwicks. I didn't feel like I was missing out- I still got to choose books I liked and ended up rereading them time and time again. 

My parents decided this because they figured those books were more age appropriate. And who was I to argue? I was like 7 and didn't know North from South (yes, that could be a pun on Elizabeth Gaskell's 19th century work). Anyways, I watch videos now of kids throughout the country standing before their school boards in an attempt to push books that my mother would definitely not let me read. Not because they were too difficult language-wise nor lacking substance, like say, a Dr. Suess book; there was something more going on beneath the surface.

A report by CNN stated that of the 10 most challenged books in 2020, 8 were categorized as LGBTQ. Of those, most were geared towards children. 

The Prince & the Knight
source: https://www.lgbtqnation.com/2018/05/new-childrens-book-prince-knight-just-time-royal-wedding/

This begs the question: what constitutes a work of literature as "age-appropriate"? Is it because it has popping, fun pictures? Or silly names for their characters? 

As children, it's easy to get absorbed into the flashiness of a book. If a book describing animal abuse came with pictures of adorable puppies and brightly clad in pastel colors, would that make the subject of the story any less gruesome? 

Authors have a tendency to sugarcoat tough topics, especially for their younger audiences. That's why movies have ratings or why there are different levels on libraries, setting certain materials off from others. Now, LGBTQ books are making their way into classrooms and school communities, like the obvious step towards introducing gender theory into a Kindergarten classroom. No offense, but if a 4 year old can't properly tie his or her own shoes without support, what are the chances that they comprehend gender ideology and sexual identification? 

This is merely speculation. It isn't a coincidence that LGBTQ-based materials are being scrutinized in classrooms, especially for younger grade levels. Maybe an outright ban on those books won't stifle the influx of content pouring into the literary world... but there is a misunderstanding between those who want those books out of schools and those who advocate for their integration. 

Both sides want what's best for the kids. The only difference is that one side recognizes their limitations in terms of limiting speech while the other is willing to disregard tradition in lieu of contemporary thinking.