Let Us Read Freely: Why Censorship Makes Classrooms Smaller, Not Safer

By Austin Smith

Across the state of North Carolina, books are quietly disappearing. It’s not that students aren’t

interested, but that parents are starting to fear education and the truths that come with it. The

precise reason is that the current administration is trying to destroy the Department of Education.

Titles such as The Color Purple, The Handmaid's Tale, and Of Mice and Men are being ripped

off shelves across the state. All in the name of “protecting the children.” Censorship, however,

doesn’t make classrooms safer; it makes them smaller.

As a student who is openly gay in a small, rural town, I’ve always felt the sting of erasing history

in the classroom long before books became targets. My existence was always a topic people felt

was too “mature” and too “controversial.” My identity had always been a topic of debate,

especially at my school. School should be a place to think and critically examine issues freely,

but it has become a place where I edit myself every morning before walking in the door. I always

found solace in reading and relating to characters like me. This is something that is no longer an

option for students like me.

This is precisely what book bans strive to do: force students to edit their lives so that they can

authentically live and see themselves reflected in classrooms and literature in their libraries.

When a school board removes a book that talks about race or tells an LGBTQ story, they aren’t

protecting students; they’re protecting the long history of racism and prejudice that is embedded

in the South, a history we have worked so hard to overcome. This is one that so many authors

sought to change through their stories and novels. They’re saying that my story and your story

don’t belong here because they’re different, which in their vernacular is a synonym for

dangerous. Simply because it shines a spotlight on history they would rather not recall, but

instead alter.

The irony is that these very books are the ones that teach empathy, resilience, and understanding.

The same values an educational institution should seek to build. When I first read The Hate U

Give, I didn’t see it as divisive; I saw it as a raw depiction of what Black Americans face every

day. When I read Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, it was one of the first times I saw

someone like me reflected in a book. These books have never confused me; they have only given

me what school is meant for: an education. Telling me that different identities aren’t something

to fear but something to learn and understand.

Banning books will never stop students from thinking, but it will disable them from thinking

deeply. Shrinking classrooms to what’s comfortable does not equate to safety. Think about how

much hatred could be stopped if people would just open one of these books. Absolute safety is

derived from knowledge, compassion, and inclusion. When we hide stories different from ours,

we don’t allow people to grow beyond their own experience.

As Class President and a member of the NC Association of Teen Democrats, I’ve learned that

leadership isn’t about avoiding hard conversations but instead striving to start them. Book bans

show us that it’s easier to conform than to question. Making me think of what any teacher has

ever told me, which is that the easiest option is almost always the wrong option. Democracy and

education depend on people's willingness to ask questions, listen, and think critically, which is

why some people are seeking to ban books that foster logical and critical thinking.

This isn’t an abstract issue; it’s personal for the millions of people of color and the hundreds of

thousands of LGBTQ+ Americans whose stories deserve to be known. Stories like mine. I’ve

seen the fear that these bans create, with teachers shying away from challenging and

uncomfortable topics. I’ve also felt disappointed in seeing adults make decisions about students

they have never even had a conversation with.

If those who ban books claim to protect students, they should start by trusting us. We aren’t

fragile pieces of glass that will shatter over reading the truthful and painful stories that

marginalized communities have gone through. We are insightful, curious, independent thinkers

who are capable of engaging with complex ideas. Classrooms should prepare us for the real

world, not censor it.

As North Carolina continues the debate of which books should be in our libraries, I encourage

and implore students to take a stand. Remind lawmakers that learning should be fought for, not

feared.

If those who ban books claim to protect students, they should start by trusting us. We are not

fragile. We are curious, thoughtful, and capable of engaging with complex ideas. We deserve

classrooms that prepare us for the real world, not ones that censor it.

Because when classrooms shrink, so does our future, a future that we have to live in. If we want

North Carolina to be full of young, free-thinking, kind, and more empathetic students, we need to

support their development. Take the first simple step: let us read.

About the Author: Austin Smith is a senior from eastern North Carolina and a member of the NC Association of Teen Democrats. He serves as Class President and Beta Club Service Liaison at his high school, where he leads civic engagement projects and advocates for equality, inclusion, and educational freedom. He plans to major in political science and international studies, then pursue law school. He intends to become a human rights attorney and then enter politics.

What Happens When Schools Silence Stories?

By Elizabeth Brinson

Censorship has always worn the mask of morality. Today, it’s wearing a school board badge and is running for re-election in counties all across North Carolina. Removing books from library shelves is a request brought up in front of Boards of Education like clockwork. This fight for school book banning isn’t a new concept, in fact, it is one I have been familiar with since middle school.

Growing up as an LGBTQ+ teenager has been a complex experience. In my childhood, before I had the words to describe who I was, I found them in a book someone else now calls ‘inappropriate’. The most painfully ironic part of this is that as I was just beginning to see myself represented in any sort of media, it was taken away. Back then, my thirteen year-old-self didn’t see the gravity of the situation. I was confused, of course, but I tucked the memory away like some sort of secret. There must be some good reason, I often thought to myself. Some real, strong reason why a graphic novel that briefly mentions a lesbian character was taken out of my school library. Maybe it wasn’t checked out enough. Maybe it was too old, and they were simply replacing it. It didn’t take me long to realize the true motive behind it all, it only took a quick look at the data.

More than half of the books targeted in recent school bans include LGBTQ+ characters or themes, and that’s no accident. In fact, in my very own school district, books were flagged simply because of LGBTQ+ themes or authors, an action self-initiated by the school board. Recently, I had the opportunity to dig deeper into these bans, viewing it from another perspective. I sat down with a local politician, a man who had served on my local school board the year that eight books were removed and forty were put up for review. It was during this conversation that the gravity of the bans really set in. Naturally, I had thousands of questions, ranging from the criteria they considered, the depth to which they read the books, and the values they allowed to guide them throughout this process. And he had answers. I didn’t expect to hear it so bluntly, but he confirmed my fears. In the name of ‘protecting children,’ schools are erasing the existence of LGBTQ+ youth from their libraries, and the people carrying it out are more than aware of their reasoning, in fact, they are proud of it. He called it inappropriate, immoral, and even ‘foreign’. But, how foreign is it really, if the student he is sitting across from is the very person he is targeting? It is this upfront ignorance that poses the largest threat. You can ban the books, but LGBTQ+ kids still exist, and they still deserve to be seen.

But, these hateful comments don’t only affect LBTQ+ youth in our schools, they affect everyone. The blatant censorship of BIPOC stories, LGBTQ+ stories, and stories from victims of violence and assault, raises concerns about the liberties and freedoms of students. Book banning is not just educational overreach, it’s a direct attack on the First Amendment. The First Amendment protects the right to speak, but also the right to receive information, including through books containing ideas that some find uncomfortable. In my AP American Government and Politics course, we discussed the SCOTUS case Tinker v. Des Moines, which ultimately set the precedent that students do not ‘shed their constitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the schoolhouse gate’, and book bans violate this principle, plain and simple. Later, in Island Trees v. Pico (1982), the Supreme Court ruled that public school officials cannot remove books from libraries simply because they dislike their content or disagree with their message, more directly acknowledging censorship’s attack on personal freedoms. Public schools are government institutions, and when they ban books, it becomes a matter of state-sponsored censorship. The hypocrisy here is that the same politician I sat down with had detailed earlier in the conversation his value of individual rights and freedoms. But the truth is: you can’t claim to defend freedom while banning books written by and for marginalized voices.

At the end of the day, you can ban the books, but you can’t ban the people who live the truths inside them. LGBTQ+ students aren’t going anywhere, and neither are our stories.The First Amendment doesn’t come with exceptions for discomfort. Book bans aren’t about protecting students. They’re about controlling them. And in a democracy, that should alarm all of us. If schools are truly meant to educate, not indoctrinate, then all students deserve access to the full spectrum of human experience. Some of us survived because of a book. Others came out because of a book. And far too many are now being told their stories are too dangerous to be read. We owe them better.

About the Author: Elizabeth Brinson is a high school senior in the southeastern part of North Carolina. Brinson is a proud LGBTQ+ member and advocate with a passion for civil engagement and education equity who plans to go into Cognitive Science and Public Health, with a goal of expanding health and education resources to underserved communities.