The “social section” in Crawford County Library’s Van Buren branch (Screenshot from court documents)
We can call it whatever we want — segregating books, burning books, putting them above a child’s reach, or branding them with the equivalent of a scarlet letter when they don’t jibe with our religion or politics. But it’s still book banning, it’s still unconstitutional, and it’s still wrong.
That’s what I concluded after reading a federal judge’s opinion earlier this week in a lawsuit against Crawford County officials who had ordered library books with LGBTQ+ themes moved from the children’s section to a “social section” where they were branded with bright green labels.
In his ruling, U.S. District Judge P.K. Holmes III wrote “it is indisputable that the creation and maintenance of the social section was motivated in substantial part by a desire to impede users’ access to books containing viewpoints that are unpopular or controversial in Crawford County.”
“It is one thing to restrict minors’ access to sexually explicit material, but a very different thing to restrict minors’ access to unpopular opinions,” Holmes wrote. “Here, the undisputed evidence shows that the social section was created not only for the former purpose but also for the latter, which violates the First Amendment.”
The ruling strikes at the heart of an argument recently made by former state Sen. Jason Rapert, a leading proponent in Arkansas of library book banning, albeit by another name.
Rapert, founder of the Holy Ghost Ministries and member of the Arkansas State Library Board, has tried repeatedly to defund public libraries that offer books he finds objectionable for minors — mostly those with LGBTQ+ themes. Recently, he suggested he wasn’t trying to “ban” books but merely wanted to “segregate” them “to an appropriate space” away from children.
Yet Holmes’ ruling makes it clear that segregating books because we disagree with their viewpoints is unconstitutional under the First Amendment no matter how we describe the practice.
Besides, anyone who has taught school or run a library knows that book banning is about far more than censorship. It’s also about the government denying people a chance to see themselves in books and know they’re not alone, they’re not terrible, there is hope.
At the most recent state library board meeting, for example, member Lupe Peña de Martinez showed the empathy that book banners often lack. She said she was sexually abused as a child and let Rapert know that the subject isn’t always simple. Rapert had just read a graphic passage aloud, with no context, from “All Boys Aren’t Blue,” an LGBTQ+ book he called inappropriate for minors.
Peña de Martinez said books like that one can help children understand what sexual abuse is because they may not already know. Otherwise, children sometimes blame themselves. “Groomers, I believe, are those who oppose these books” because “they don’t want to have kids read this and learn this is grooming,” she said. Those who haven’t experienced such abuse and other hard times “are speaking from privilege.”
As a mother, reader and former teacher, I am familiar with some of the books many people want banned. I read “Beyond Magenta: Transgender and Nonbinary Teens Speak Out” after the Conway School Board voted in 2022 to remove it and another trans-themed book from school library shelves. It wasn’t my favorite book, but I’m not a teenager, and I would have had no problem with my daughter reading it when she was younger. But if I had envisioned a problem, it should have been my decision as her mother, not the government’s.
Some critics, including Rapert, also want to ban the graphic-novel version of Margaret Atwood’s dystopian book, “The Handmaid’s Tale,” in which fertile women are treated as child-bearing slaves. I have read the original, adult version twice and have been scared by it twice — not because I found it objectionable but because it is an increasingly realistic warning of what may lie ahead in a nation led by misogynistic politicians. So, if young people want to read a graphic adaptation of this novel, I would say, “Go for it!” Maybe they will be forewarned and work to prevent “The Handmaid’s Tale” from becoming reality.
As a teacher, I had my students read S.E. Hinton’s “The Outsiders,” another book censors occasionally target. This novel isn’t about gender but depicts gang violence and underage drinking and smoking. To those who say the book exposes adolescents to such misdeeds, I’d ask them to find me a young reader who doesn’t already know about such problems — and not through reading. Indeed, more of my students in rural, impoverished Earle, Arkansas, identified with that book than with William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet,” which prompted one student to ask me what language the characters were speaking.
What I will never understand is why religious zealots who profess to be Christians want to ban or “segregate” books solely because of violence or sexual content when their favorite book is the Bible. I often wonder if they have actually read the books they hate as well as the Bible, which offers a heavy dose of such content. Consider the Old Testament account of a drunken Lot’s incest with his two daughters. If I were opposed to the Bible, which I’m not, I could take it out of context too and suggest the story was a grooming tool. I won’t do that, though. I don’t want the Bible banned. And I don’t want “All Boys Aren’t Blue” banned.
What I want is the freedom for our state’s children to be able to read without the Crawford County Quorum Court, Jason Rapert, or the Arkansas Legislature looking over their shoulders. The parents can take care of that.
Debra Hale-Shelton is a regular columnist for Arkansas Advocate. We also encourage Arkansans who are affected by public policies or excluded from public debate to express their own opinions in our commentary section. Find information about submitting your own commentary here.