Books teach and inspire us. Banning them is undemocratic.

In sixth grade, my reading teacher gave me access to a book that changed my life.

I attended Sutherland Elementary, a well-equipped Chicago public school in the Beverly neighborhood, with a school library and a librarian. Mrs. Traback, my teacher, filled a large metal filing cabinet in the back of the classroom with books. It was our own private mini library.

Maya Angelou’s autobiography I know why the trapped bird sings caught my eye. I borrowed it and couldn’t put it down, fascinated by her travels and her childhood. My father saw me reading it and told me to return it. “Why?” I asked. “Because she gets raped in the book,” he said. “But I’ve already read that part!” I protested. I dutifully did as he told me. Briefly. A day or so later, I borrowed it again and devoured it. Angelou’s words inspired this future writer.

Looking back, I am grateful that my father did not storm into the school and demand that the book be taken off the shelf. Although I did not agree with his method of parenting, I did notice that he did not force his opinions on other students or attack Mrs. Traback.

Today’s political climate is different, leading to book bans. The Chicago-based American Library Association says attempts to censor more than 100 titles have taken place in 17 states, including Illinois, where book bans are now prohibited. The number of titles affected increased by 65% ​​in the past year – the highest level ever documented by the ALA’s Office for Intellectual Freedom. Most of these books reflect the voices of people of color and LGBTQIA people.

Bans are a “fourth wave” of censorship

The brilliant Tracie Hall stepped down as head of the ALA earlier this year. She has traveled the country and the world railing against censorship and advocating for intellectual freedom. One of her latest projects is Litanies for Survival, a free community library in Humboldt Park. It’s a cozy and colorful reading room filled with donated books that are banned elsewhere or written by authors of color.

Audre Lorde, the late poet and former librarian, was the inspiration for Litanies for Survival (set up in partnership with The Honeycomb Network and Rootwork Gallery). The shelves feature works by June Jordan, Alice Walker and Natalie Diaz. The goal is 1,000 books. When I was there in May, 850 had been donated.

“It must have originated in Chicago, because of course the first book sanctuary was established here by the Chicago Public Library,” Hall said. A book sanctuary is a political statement — you can’t borrow the books.

Hall has attended countless school board hearings on censorship, and they almost always begin with the same conclusion: the person proposing the ban hasn’t even read the book.

“How can what you’re making be legitimate? You don’t know what the redeeming quality of these books is, why many of these books have become canonical,” Hall said.

Issues such as sexual harassment, parental drug abuse, suicide and the exploitation of immigrants may be unsettling for some adults, but Hall argues that reading about these issues can help young people: books provide an escape and validation.

Hall is more concerned today than ever. She describes the current era as the “fourth wave” of censorship.

America’s founding principles include freedom of religion, freedom of the press and freedom of assembly. This is partly because some texts were banned in Great Britain.

But these freedoms did not apply to the slaves. During World War II, Hitler and the Nazis raided and destroyed libraries. In the early 2000s, books that mentioned sexual orientation and gender fluidity were banned.

Now there is “a kind of over-the-top ban on books by LGBTQIA and people of color authors and social justice issues that we haven’t seen in days we don’t even want to remember,” Hall says. States like Florida and Oklahoma, not just school and library boards, are taking on the censorship that Hall sees as a threat to democracy.

“What happens if this continues to lead to cuts in funding for public libraries,” she says, “in the same way that we have seen and allowed cuts in funding for public schools?”

Thank you, Ms Traback

My mother is a voracious reader. She never restricted what I could read. One time, a teacher at Sutherland expressed her concern that I was reading at the age of 11, The Exorcist. My mother feigned concern to the well-meaning teacher, but let me continue to frighten myself.

What Hall said makes sense: Readers don’t try to ban books, even in their own homes. To be fair to my father, I asked him for a credit card for Kroch and Brentano’s bookstore, and he obliged. I bought Toni Morrison’s Very blue eyesTerry McMillan’s Mother and other literature by black women. I admit, as an elementary school student, I didn’t understand much of Morrison’s prose, but that didn’t matter. I was excited to read it.

My love of books has shaped me. I thrived in a community that valued books as a means of exploration and intellect. And I thank the late Mrs. Traback for this metal filing cabinet that she filled with wonder.

Natalie Y. Moore is the race, class and communities editor at WBEZ.

The Democracy Solutions Project is a collaboration between the Chicago Sun-Times, WBEZ and the University of Chicago’s Center for Effective Government, with funding from the Pulitzer Center. Our goal is to help listeners and readers engage with the democratic functions in their lives and cast an informed vote in the November 2024 election.