Books AREN'T the problem.

I attended yet another a school board meeting last night.

Honestly, I never thought I'd be someone who attends school board meetings. They are largely dull in nature, but there are important nuggets hidden among the boredom. And the public comments are almost always emotion-inducing.

Last night's public comment contained a rationale that attempted to explain why the censorship of some books may be beneficial to students. The person who spoke mentioned that s/he has two daughters and that the older daughter was involved in all sorts of extra curricular activities: sports and band and higher-level academic classes. Her high school career was successful, she had an amazing GPA, and she received a substantial scholarship to attend a reputable college. And do you know what? I think that's great. She achieved all of that without reading "inappropriate content" provided by my school district's library... so why shouldn't other students be able to succeed without access to those texts as well, right?

Here's the thing: I don't think the books in the school library are really about achieving. Yes, the AP Literature course encourages students to read frequently-challenged titles such as Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, The Awakening, To Kill A Mockingbird (aka The Greatest Book Ever Written), The Handmaid's Tale, and The Kite Runner. But I don't really think that's why we should be fighting to keep specific books on our shelves.

Without meaning to be profound, I did sort of a profound thing in Chapter Twenty-Six of my recent novel An Illusion of Control. At this point in the text, an intelligent-but-not-overly-academic student named Briana is having a conversation with her father about the concept of censorship. Her father, who happens to be on the local school board and is torn regarding which way he should vote, brings up a book he's just finished reading: Speak.

For those who don't know, Speak is probably my all-time favorite young adult novel. It's written by Laurie Halse Anderson and tells the story of a girl named Melinda who, the summer before her freshman year of high school, attends a party and ends up calling the police in to break it up. Why does she do this? you ask. ***SPOILER ALERT*** Because Melinda was raped at that party and didn't know how else to handle the situation.

In An Illusion of Control, Jackson expresses concern that his younger daughter, Calliope, had access to that book and not only read it, but loved it. Here's an excerpt of Briana's reaction to this admission:

Briana fights the urge to roll her eyes. “Girls get raped all the time, Daddy. Seriously? It’s, like, the number-one under-reported crime. Two of my friends have been raped and neither one ever reported it because… Well, why would they? Most times, nothing happens.”

Jackson’s mouth falls open.

“One of the girls got pregnant as a result and ended up getting an abortion. It’s just life. Stuff happens.”

Over the summer, I met with two of my friends who read An Illusion of Control before its publication. One teaches general English; the other teaches advanced learners. The friend who teaches advanced learners commented on the fact that Briana's delivery of that line -- "Two of my friends have been raped and neither one ever reported it" -- seemed too brusque. "I don't think anyone would really introduce a topic like that so directly," she said.

Except, do you know what? That comment is based on not just one... not just two... not just three... but at least four comments that I have heard students make in my time as a teacher. As much as we don't want to acknowledge it, things are different than they used to be. The times? They really are a-changin'.

So maybe when we think about "protecting" students by removing books from our school libraries, we should start asking ourselves which students we're actually protecting. Is it really about academics, or is it about allowing those who have experienced unfortunate, life-altering events to realize they're not alone? To allow them to understand that there are others out there who have been through similar situations and survived? And not just survived, but thrived?

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Books aren't the problem. Eliminating rape and profanity from our schools' libraries isn't going to eliminate rape and profanity from the world. It's not even going to eliminate rape and profanity from our schools. So it's time that we trust the librarians and the teachers and put the selection of literature in their hands. Believe it or not, they have an idea of what's in the best interest of kids... and sometimes that involves reading about a shocking and uncomfortable situation.

To quote Jodi Picoult, I "have received thousands of letters and emails and there have been hundreds -- HUNDREDS -- of kids who said that Nineteen Minutes was the reason they didn't bring a gun to school and start shooting. Instead, the novel made them realize they weren't the only ones who felt so isolated. The book did not harm them." Instead, that book about a school shooting -- that book that contains profanity and a reference to suicide and a violent rape and illegal drug use -- that book has actually saved lives.

Books aren't the problem. Try and spin it however you'd like, but books aren't the problem.

It's a really good book. You should read it if you haven't already. I mean, I didn't even include the MOST PROFOUND moment of Chapter Twenty-Six...