Monday, September 27, 2010

“They're talking about banning books again! Really subversive books, like The Wizard of Oz... the Diary of Anne Frank...” ~ Annie Kinsella in Field of Dreams

Banning books? Seriously? In my field of dreams, we as a nation, as a global community, have moved beyond such narrow-mindedness. But then, I still believe in an inherent altruism of humanity…at least most days.

This recognition - I can’t call it a celebration - of Banned Books Week: Celebrating the Freedom to Read (according to the American Library Association), is one of those things I dream of outgrowing, like the Tooth Fairy and a superstition of black cats.

I was telling my daughter last week about an incident from her high school days. My husband and I chaperoned the marching band spring trip to Baltimore/DC. Two charter buses of 80-some hormonally charged teenagers for four days. What were we thinking?! But I digress.

En route, to keep everyone entertained and to possibly preserve some of the chaperones’ collective sanity, the busses were equipped with DVD players and the kids watched movies. PG or PG-13 only, the band director was not a fool. But even that was not good enough for one overly-protective mom. When she discovered her precious (precocious?) teen had been exposed to the subversive Sixteen Candles, she went ballistic. The next Band Boosters meeting was taken up with a dreadfully serious discussion of how best to prevent such a travesty from reoccurring. She did not take it well when I told her she was not authorized to censor my children’s viewing habits.

Censorship at any level frightens me. When we surrender our responsibility for critical thinking and decision making to those in some perceived position of authority, whether it be a school board, a church or a government, we surrender ourselves. If you don’t like a movie, don’t go to the theater. If a book offends you, don’t read it, and tell your child why you find it offensive. Labeling anything off-limits, be it a book, or sex, or alcohol, without a reasonable explanation of why only serves to make it more alluring to a curious, growing child. Parents do a disservice to their offspring and to the world at large by denying the development of a fine-tuned discernment of crap.

These are some of the more egregious titles listed as this year’s challenged
  • Captain Underpants (offensive language, sexually explicit, anti-family)
  • Lord of the Rings (Satanic)
  • Merriam Webster Collegiate Dictionary (contains the term ‘oral sex’)
  • Fahrenheit 451 (about censorship)
  • Harry Potter series (occultism, Satanism, violence, anti-family - #1 on ALA’s most-challenged for 2000-2009)
  • Grapes of Wrath (obscenity, embarrassment to the region)
  • Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? (wrong Bill Martin – long story which displays the censors’ ignorance even more tellingly)
  • James and the Giant Peach (magic, disobedience, violence)
  • American Heritage Dictionary (39 objectionable words, including ‘balls’)
  • Grimm’s Fairy Tales (violence; misuse of alcohol in Little Red Riding Hood)

…along with the usual selection of classics like Brave New World and To Kill a Mockingbird


To quote Annie Kinsella again: “Who's for burning books? Who wants to spit on the Constitution of the United States of America, anybody? Now who's for the bill of Rights? Who thinks that freedom is a pretty darn good thing? Who thinks that we have to stand up to the kind of censorship that they had under Stalin?”

I proudly join Natalie Monzyk’s list of bloggers standing up to the censors. Won’t you join us?

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Wisdom of my elders

After an hour (okay, maybe forty-five minutes) of polishing an essay (see previous post) and thirty minutes trying to reread a book for which my review thereof is very nearly past deadline, I felt the overwhelming urge to ‘rest my eyes’ – yikes! I’ve become my grandfather.

Every evening after dinner, while perusing the daily Toledo Blade, Grandpa would be found tipped back in his recliner, paper over his face, snoring gently into the newsprint. Any disruption that suggested he was sleeping was soundly denied. “I’m just resting my eyes,” he always insisted.

Now I understand. When the eyes demand rest, they close. Period. No amount of will power or dodged determination can overcome the need for a break from constant input. Caffeine, splashes of cold water, or a walk around the room only stave off the inevitable. The eyes are the brain’s gatekeeper; when input overload hits, sleep will out.

That ten-minute ‘rest’ has refreshed me, and my eyes. I’m back at it…until I hit that saturation point again.

If only it didn’t happen quite so often these days. Just how old was Grandpa when we teased him?