Creating a stir with a middle school book club, a guest article by Tanvi Rastogi

The last part is tricky – how Do We raise our voices as allies and advocates? How do we raise our voices against the xenophobia, anti-Black discrimination, transphobia, fatphobia, abilityophobia, and other things we encounter in our classrooms, school hallways, friend circles, and third spaces? Especially when even small acts of allyship can be hampered by our own uncertainty about what to do, what to say, the risks of speaking out, how to recognize what harm even looks like, and what our role is in interrupting it?

A word that we as people who work with children and books use almost religiously is empathy. We use it when we express our concerns about banned books and when we advocate for the freedom of reading. We use it when we formulate talking points that justify our inclusive programs, collections, and exhibitions. We use it when we talk about the meaning and impact of our work. And I agree: it’s important to expose children to books that entertain, encourage, and foster empathy. What is less clear to me, however, is what we expect of children with this empathy – whether we think they should naturally understand how to translate that empathy into meaningful action.

After working as a youth librarian for many years and often being approached by kids seeking advice on what they should have done when a friend used the N-word, a teacher made a transphobic comment, or someone in the hallway said we should build a wall to keep “those people” out, I realized it’s naive to assume our kids (or people of any age, really) know how to take empathy from an abstract ideal into practice. So we talked, and I asked questions like: Why was it important to say something? What were you afraid would happen if you said something? Why didn’t you do it? What can you do now, even if the incident is over? What will you do or say if something like this happens again? Let’s find out now so you’re prepared next time.

Libraries are wonderful places, especially because of our field’s commitment to creating space: to learn, to grow, to be challenged, to be affirmed, to feel dignity, to feel a sense of belonging and be sure. Library staff strive to curate spaces, collections, programs, and services that give our users a real sense of belonging in our communities by fostering the emotional and physical safety that true belonging requires. This is necessary work—but I believe it can be taken a step further. We use our skills and institutional power to foster safety and belonging by putting the right book in someone’s hands or connecting them with the right program. What if we could also guide members of our community—in this case, children—so they, too, can learn how to create spaces where all people can live and thrive? As librarians, we provide information to members of our community – and the children in my library were sorely lacking information about how to effectively prevent dangers.

These conversations (along with the late Congressman John Lewis’ call to make good and necessary trouble) ultimately sparked the formation of Good Books Young Troublemakers in April 2021. GBYT uses carefully crafted middle school stories and accompanying discussion guides to help children develop the skills and confidence they need to speak up and make their communities places where all people can belong.

How? While the discussions at GBYT encourage the development of empathy, the book club also provides participants with the opportunity to build and strengthen their allyship skills over time. The club is based on three ideas: that empathy is a prerequisite for using our voices to prevent harm as allies and fight for meaningful change as advocates. That speaking up is a skill that can be practiced like any other. And that we can strengthen this skill through regular practice to become more confident, effective and conscious allies.

We read by Saadia Faruqi Yusuf Azeem is not a hero and discussed how to stand in solidarity with Muslims, how we can personally combat Islamophobia, how bigotry spreads in increasingly dangerous ways the longer it goes unchallenged, the risks of “making waves,” and the even more serious danger of not make waves.

We have Karina Yan Glaser’s A duet for home and discussed the experience of homelessness—the myriad ways in which people (including our own classmates and neighbors) can become homeless, the dehumanizing stereotypes that surround the homeless, how these stereotypes make it difficult to receive care and services, and how they also hinder attempts to pass policies and laws that meaningfully address poverty and homelessness. (We re-read this book as we discussed Hope in the Valley when we grappled with the idea that many people support housing for low-income people – as long as that housing is in someone’s otherwise community or “not in my backyard.”)

This November we read AJ Sass’ Ellen outside the linesand our conversation will be about how we can be allies to autistic and nonbinary people by being willing to disrupt ableism and transphobia/enbyphobia, and how we can advocate for accommodations that make the spaces we inhabit inclusive and accessible.

That may sound like a lot. It’s true that tremendous effort is being put into creating discussion guides that reduce complex issues to something middle school students can process and engage with, that help them see the power and necessity of using their voices rather than remaining silent in the face of injustice, and that provide opportunities to practice speaking up so they’re better prepared to do so in real life when it matters.

But the payout is huge. After three years of hosting GBYT, the kids in my book club are exponentially more knowledgeable about when and how to use their voices responsibly and safely. They are more attentive to current events and are beginning to understand that rampant intolerance and injustice do not diminish over time; in fact, they are becoming more destructive.

And they all have examples of putting the skills they learned into practice in real life: in letters to school administrators, to the editor, and to legislators; and, perhaps even bolder, at family gatherings, in the classroom, in dance class, in gym class, on the bus.

There is also, selfishly, a personal gain: It’s easy to look around and feel despair at the mounting attacks on BIPOC and queer histories (and people), public schools and libraries, accurate and comprehensive history, equity and inclusion policies and programs, our basic rights, and our democracy itself. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed and powerless to do anything impactful.

But every month, I feel a ton of joy and hope in my book club—joy because the kids in my book club are curious, passionate, and hilarious, and hope because my kids and I are actively and persistently doing real, hard work. We grow. We struggle. We call out evil and challenge others to do better. We look at, rather than turn away from, the problems that affect us and our fellow human beings, our neighbors, our local and global communities—and learn how to be strong and confident allies and advocates now and as adults. GBYT raises children who are aware, smart, kind, and understand that caring for one another is an ongoing, active process—and that there are consequences if you neglect it. In other words, the kind of children who will grow into the adults our future needs.

It’s truly amazing what we can do with middle school books. They open doors through which empathy can be fostered—but when used with deep intention, these books can also become tools to strengthen our voices. Empathy is good; empathy-inspired action is vital.

Meet the author

Tanvi Rastogi (she/her) is the founder of Good Books Young Troublemakers (GBYT), a nonprofit that uses middle school books to help children develop the skills necessary to be strong allies, advocates, and cause “good trouble.” A former youth and teen services librarian, Tanvi currently works at Dog-Eared Books in Ames, Iowa, where she has led GBYT’s founding team since April 2021. For more information about GBYT, its mission, and how you can get involved, visit www.gbyt.org or follow us on Instagram at @gbytbookclub.

Filed under: Guest post