ÎÚÑ»´«Ã½

If the rhetoric sounds familiar, that’s because it strongly echoes similar justifications for broad-based school library bans advocated by U.S. lobby groups such as Focus on the Family, which cloak themselves in the mantle of parents’ rights and insist they are not interested in suppressing books, but merely in protecting children. They levy accusations of “grooming� and child abuse to provide cover for their real agenda: restricting access to books that overwhelmingly contain LGBTQ+ characters, themes and issues.

In case that agenda seems obscure where the Alberta government is concerned, consider that Nicolaides’s ministerial order resulted from his attention being drawn to a quartet of graphic novels on the shelves of school libraries in Calgary and Edmonton. The four titles in question, all by American authors, are: “Fun ÎÚÑ»´«Ã½” by Alison Bechdel; “Flamer” by Mike Curato; “Gender Queer” by Maia Kobabe; and “Blankets” by Craig Thompson. Three of those four titles depict LGBTQ+ characters and situations. The fourth, “Blankets,” is an autobiographical coming-of-age story that includes material about the author’s sexual abuse by a male babysitter.

Reasonable people could argue that certain images and subjects in the four volumes are too mature for readers in elementary schools, or even middle schools. But it is hard to imagine any sentient 14-year-old with access to the internet being scarred by the content of these books, all of which are acclaimed, in some cases award-winning titles. It is, by contrast, relatively easy to imagine a pre-teen or teenager struggling with abuse or questions about sexuality and gender identity finding solace in the pages, if only as reassurance that they are not alone in their confusion and upset.

Is removing this material really in the best interests of students? Bear in mind that school library collections are curated by highly skilled, trained teacher-librarians who make decisions on what to stock based on multiple criteria and a deep knowledge of what would best serve their student patrons. Lacking this kind of specialized training, the government can be little more than a blunt instrument in deciding what to keep on the shelves and what to suppress. By taking the decision about what students should be allowed to read out of their hands, and out of the hands of qualified educators, the government is acting, regardless of its professed purpose, as a state censor.

These kinds of book bans — because that’s what they are — never end well. Leave aside the fact that telling teens and pre-teens they can’t read something is the single best way to get them interested in whatever it is you’re trying to keep from them. Book bans are never static or neutral. They have a creeping effect that is not apparent until its upon us. Today the Alberta government bans “Fun ÎÚÑ»´«Ã½” and “Gender Queer”; tomorrow, it’s “Romeo & Juliet” and Anne Sexton.

In case there were any doubt about the Alberta government’s understanding that this is the case, note that the ministerial order takes measures to ensure at least one sexually explicit work featuring scenes of child abuse will remain on school bookshelves. The Bible is exempt from any of the government’s edicts.