For this YAL Wednesday post during Pride month, I invite you to celebrate Queer and Trans* Young Adult Literature (QT*YAL).  My title marks both the history, present state, and futurity of QT*YAL. As scholars have noted, the history of QT*YAL was marked by the common trope of “bury your gays” and “dead lesbian syndrome” in which characters enter narratives only to be punished for, presumably, the crime of identity (Hulan, 2017; Rofes, 2004). With the advent of gay rights movement came an emergence from shame, with the rallying cry, “Out of the closet and into the streets” (Gregory 2021). From this visibility came YAL narratives of coming out, coming-of-age, and coming to, in fits and starts, pride. 

The proliferation of QT*YAL titles in the past decade testifies the increased interest in queer narratives (Lo, 2011). Yet simultaneous with such progress has come notable pushback and restrictions. Book-banning and other forms of censorship have spread quickly across the nation in a partisan wild-fire. 

For this post, I hope to remind teachers of the value of these stories, knowing that queer and trans* students will find their way to these stories whether teachers elect or not to include them in curriculum. As states, districts, and schools are often their own political eco-systems, I urge instructors to consider the variety of ways to introduce these books to their students: through curricular choices, self-select reads, excepts, or school, public, or personal libraries. Each of these stories I here highlight has immense formative value for queer and trans* youth. There stories are far more than reflective mirrors. They refract the multiplicity of identities like diamonds.

One scholarly note:   For Halberstam (2018), trans* embraces the “unfolding categories of being organized around but not confined to forms of gender variance” and the asterisk refuses “to situated transition in relation to a destination, a final form, a specific shape, or an established configuration of desire and identity” (Halberstam, p.4). I use trans* to the variety of emergent identities and possibilities of more. 

Pet by Akwaeke Emezi (they/them) 

From ogbanje transgender Nigerian writer Akwaeke Emezi comes this allegorical fantasy of monsters and angels and how art may provide imagined strategies to respond to untruths and suppressive forces. Trans* protagonist Jam and her family reside in Lucille, where monsters have been bested by angels. Jam searches for this history, and knowing that anyone can forget what monsters look like, she retreats to a library of books. Meanwhile, her mother, Bitter, has finished a painting of hybrid creature, which, with a drop of Jam’s blood, comes to life as Pet with the single purpose to “hunt” everyday monsters, not yet known or seen. In the end, this indelible allegory concerns hunting sexual predators and unearthing the often hidden, unspoken crimes of child abuse.

For LGBTQ+ students: The details of Jam’s identity formation, her claim of being in the wrong body, her self-advocacy for hormone blockers and trans* health options, her parents loving support of this identity, functions as a timely counternarrative to today’s anti-trans* legislation. Further, the narrative follows the trans*-protagonist on a quest narrative for justice rather than a more common, valuable narratives of gender formation (See Gender Queer). By illustrating trans* lives as heroic, justice-seeking, and protective of children, Emezi engages in a speculative world-building where queer and trans* students can imagine themselves agents, activists, and heroes.

For Teachers: Provides examples of trans*-supportive families, networks, and alternative family structures. Trans*, queer, and non-binary characters populate this speculative town. As such, the fiction both reflects and imagines queer positive family groupings with the BIPOC community. 

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All Boys Aren’t Blue, George M. Johnson (they/them)

A memoir at the intersection of Blackness and queerness, Johnson recounts his middle-class upbringing in New Jersey. Their story encompasses a coming-of-age story that tackles various queer phobias (homophobia, femmephobia, transphobia) and how the extended Black family structure, imperfect as it is, finds space for support and acceptance. Johnson’s positionality is that of the queer friend, advocate, mentor, guide, and support. They are best friend, brother, mother, and chosen family, telling tales, citing cautionary facts and figures, and offering queer front-porch advise, seasoned with bon mots, clever comebacks. Johnson’s a hard-won coming-out story, as they write, “We see coming out stories all the time…what we don’t see is what led up to that moment. How many times a person tried to push past that barrier to get to that point” (p.237). 

For LGBTQ+ students: Johnson’s memoir plumbs the depths of intersectionality. Whether it is code-switching between gendered language or between racial identity, Johnson often finds himself double-dutching between two fast ropes of identity: “it was me jumping between personas: the person I wanted to be on the inside versus the person society told me I had to be on the outside” (p.69). 

For Teachers: Johnson’s work reminds educators of the “creativity of children” who may “not met the acceptable standard of gender performance” (p. 59) and who may not conform to strict binary ideas about manner and mannerism. This book addresses Johnson’s double marginalization in ways that other works may not address. They must content with queerness within their familial structure, blackness and queerness within their white, Catholic high school, and queerness within their historically Black university. Notably, a chapter on sexual assault and incest, which likely led to its ban from libraries, is complex, fascinating, and responsibly managed. Knowing that sexual coming-of-age is often delayed for queer folk, a “second adolescence” (p.274) lived later, Johnson provides what they never received: a chapter devoted to sexual education, including narrative, reflection, and data and stats on HIV transmission in Black queer communities.

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The notion that Young Adult Literature (YAL) serves as a mirror, window, and sliding glass door has been well established in the literature (Bishop, 1990; Möller, 2016; Waller & Sullivan-Walker, 2023).  Students need to see themselves represented in the texts they encounter, especially in classrooms, but they also need invitations to learn about youth and worlds that are different from them.  These reading experiences can be transformative, helping students develop empathy, learn more about cultures they may be less familiar with, or even break down stereotypes and counter negative perceptions of marginalized groups.  For these varied reasons, we feel strongly about the use of YAL that centers on different abilities in classrooms.

As teacher educators, however, we regularly encounter able-bodied preservice teachers who feel underprepared to work with students with disabilities and have many, many questions. They worry about saying or doing “the wrong thing,” about knowing how to best serve students’ needs, and about the laws, policies, and standardized measures that might impact their capacities to meet students where they are. Although they will have coursework in their teacher preparation programs to assuage their concerns and help develop their knowledge, we find that a personal, humanizing encounter strengthens their understandings. And thus, we draw on YAL as a way to cultivate deeper interaction with youth with disabilities and different abilities and as a way to encourage our pre-service teachers to use such texts in their future classrooms.

According to the National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) (2022), there were 7.2 million students, aged between 3 to 21 years, receiving special education services under the Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) in the academic year 2020-21 (para. 1). The highest disability type reported among disabled students was a learning disability, at approximately 33 percent (Table 1). NCES (2022) also reports an increase in the percentage of hours students with disabilities spend within the general classroom, documenting that in 2020, 66 percent of disabled students spent 80 percent or more of their day in general education spaces alongside their able-bodied peers. Trends suggest that the number of students with disabilities will continue to increase each year and alongside this so will the number of disabled students participating in general education spaces (Table 3, para. 5). It is imperative that diverse representations of different abilities exist within the classroom to give students with disabilities agency and spaces for self-reflection. However, we insist that diverse representations of abilities are not meant for only students with impairments but can create spaces of learning about differences for all readers (Bishop, 1990).

As disability is increasingly present within classroom environments, we still find representations of different abilities, discussion, and critical engagement with these topics is often disregarded or deemed unnecessary (Erevelles, 2000, p. 32). In response, and as part of our larger focus on social justice and engagement with topics of race, class, gender, and sexuality, we offer a unit within our YAL courses that specifically includes representations of disability. Pre-service candidates often begin discussions of ability differences with apprehension and timidity and are encouraged by our inclusion of disability-focused readings and respond quickly with interest, sharing personal stories and engaging critically in discussions and activities. Throughout our unit, we offer candidates a space to engage in textual analysis of disability representation using disability studies as a framework for study, and we invite them to apply these lenses to their worlds, current and future.

This post offers a snippet of the foundational work we utilize for teaching about ability differences with pre-service candidates in our YAL courses. We offer a brief overview of disability studies and discuss traditional stereotypical representations of disability. Current depictions in YAL offer new perspectives on disability identity and ability difference, which is to be lauded. However, we also note that not all representations of disability are equal and discuss the dangers of “inclusive” representations that can potentially promote continued discrimination against people with impairments. We provide teachers with ways to choose YAL texts that illustrate ability differences that disrupt stereotypical representations and offer possible ways to engage students with these selections to create moments for social justice or action. We focus specifically on YAL for pre-teen and young teenagers, those typically considered middle school aged, as we promote the inclusion of disability and ability differences at early stages of learning in the hopes that disability and identity difference will become normalized through educational practices of inclusion (Landrum, 2001, p. 252). We offer three texts: Charlie & Frog: A Mystery by Karen Kane (2018), How to Become a Planet by Nicole Melleby (2021), and Forever This Summer by Leslie C. Youngblood (2021). Each of these texts depict characters with ability differences which include representations of physical and mental impairment.

Disability Studies

Disability studies is a field of study that situates disability as a social construct. The social model of disability teaches that disability does not occur because of impairment but because of an unaccepting society which excludes disability from participation. In contrast to the medical model of disability, which promotes curing, fixing, or restoring the body to a normalized state, the social model accepts impairments and differences of the body and questions how society responds to these differences (Shakespeare, 2017, p. 13). Disability studies questions what it means to be human, how to ethically respond to difference, and interrogates the answers to these questions in any given moment of history and time (Kudlick, 2003, p. 764). This approach maintains that disability identity does not exist on its own, but is complicated by political, social, institutional, and cultural definitions of the body. According to Subini Ancy Annamma, David Connor, and Beth Ferri (2013), disability is created from “interpretations of and responses to specific differences from the normed body,” and that constructions of disability historically shift based on context (p. 3). A great example of this is the IQ test. There have been multiple changes to the score on the IQ test that supposedly determines intelligence (Annamma, Connor, & Ferri, 2013, p. 3). Currently, many scholars view the IQ test as unable to accurately determine intellectual capability, and as we continue to understand that testing can be affected by multiple factors of oppression, it continues to be questioned for its credibility.

Differences from the norm can include measures beyond the presence or lack of impairment. Categories and assumptions about age, strength, endurance, health, weight, independence, and both physical and mental capabilities can all be used to label the body as impaired, incapable, or disabled (Kudlick, 2003, p. 769). Disability studies questions, “What is normal?” and “How is normal constructed to privilege some while oppressing others?” Dolmage (2017) writes, disability is always present because there are no normal or ideal bodies, and as “the world is built to accommodate the normal body and mind, we all experience some degree of discomfort due to these limits” (p. 62; p. 123). Disability studies and disability representation is not solely for the impaired body. Instead, this framework requires the unaccepting majority to critically examine and change any overarching assumptions about ability and act against ableism, the favor of able-bodied individuals.

Disability Representation and Choosing Texts
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Disability representation in texts, film, and media impacts social views of disability and ability differences. Representations are constructions that reflect current dominant views; however, reading texts that include new and informed views of ability differences gives readers a space for questioning the dominant structures that govern the body experienced both narratively and in reality (Quayson, 2007, p. 15). Historically, disability representation was constructed in a stereotypical and damaging way, often following a prescriptive and boring portrayal of something to be pitied or cautious of. Ability differences were often only included to highlight main character growth or used for didactic messages, and rarely did disabled characters survive with impairment throughout the entirety of a story (Mitchel & Snyder, 2017, p. 209). Also, disability is often equated with inability (Kudlick, 2003, pg. 769). Within this framework, stories of disability are often narrow and formulaic, making it even more difficult for readers to create meaning from their inclusion.

Did you know that…

• the earliest hamburgers trace their origins back to the military exploits of Genghis Khan?
• the Aztecs used cacao beans as money? 
• Alexander the Great enjoyed slushie treats that resembled modern day snow cones?

​In her 2021 trade book There is No Ham in Hamburgers: Facts & Folklore About Our Favorite Foods, author Kim Zachman shares these facts and others as she details the history, science, religion, and culture behind some of the most popular items teens consume today. 

Whether the featured foods include ice cream or cookies, peanut butter or breakfast cereal, Zachman introduces each of her ten mouthwatering chapters by sharing surprising details or little-known facts about the fare of focus. These introductions hook readers and then lead them into the folklore associated with the food itself. Subsequent sections are denoted by questions and attention-grabbing titles that explore the various people competing for credit as the modern-day creators of these foods. Other sections share interesting facts about the who, what, when, and whys that catapulted each food into fame.

Is Your District Prepared for a Book Banning Campaign? Here’s What to Do BEFORE a Book Banning Campaign Begins by Sam Morris

I love writing about young adult literature. I’m beyond disappointed that this post cannot be about some of the books that I’ve been reading lately. 

Sometimes, I feel like I live in the town from Footloose. Except, when the townsfolk of Beaumont decided to move past outlawing dancing and began to burn books, Reverend Shaw stopped them, shouting, “When did you all decide to sit in judgment? Who elected all of you to be the saviors of everybody’s souls in Beaumont?”

Book banning is an insidious practice; in 2023, it is an exercise in minority rule that borders on tyranny. How did we get here? How do we protect books written for adolescents as well as the adolescents who read them?

Understand “The Game”

Just say “no.” If you grew up in the ‘80s like I did, you’ve heard that statement a lot. Our parents told us to say “no” if a stranger offered us candy or a ride, and Nancy Reagan told us to say no to drugs. In the ‘90s, when we began to have productive conversations about consent, we heard once again that familiar refrain: Just say “no.”

We learned to say “no” when someone wants to do something to us that will hurt us. We learned to say “no” to people who operate in bad faith, who think that the rules don’t apply to them. When someone thinks that they can come to a school board meeting and demand ten, fifty, or one hundred books be removed from the entire school district, they are operating in bad faith and, likely (depending on your school district’s book challenge procedure), don’t think the rules apply to them. 

When that happens, you can just say “no.”

These would-be censors are playing a dangerous game, and they are winning. Why do they do it? Because they think there is a special set of rules that exist for them that they can force everyone to abide by. Why are they winning? Because we don’t think censorship is a game, so we choose not to play. Acquiescence to their demands, however, is not the right way to refuse to play. 

If you keep up with the news about these book challenges, you might have heard about what has been happening in my local school district. In October 2022, two complainants, within hours of each other, submitted lists of ninety-six and ninety-seven books, respectively, that they wanted removed from all library and classroom shelves. (The lists, by the way, were identical, except the second list included Ibram X. Kendi’s book Stamped.) 

While the complainant whose list did not include Stamped admits to being a member of Moms for Liberty, she claims that that affiliation is not relevant to the complaint. While Booklooks.org is not affiliated with Moms for Liberty, the complainant used Booklooks.org to compile her list of books that she wanted banned. There have also been reports that Moms for Liberty groups in other states have used Booklooks.org in conversations about books that they believe have questionable content.

Books were removed from library and classroom shelves so that an evaluation about each book’s merit and potentially objectionable content could be made. As of March 15, 2023, thirty-six books (including Stamped) have been returned to shelves, although some have been restricted to grades 9-12 only. Colleen Hoover’s It Ends with Us, Jodi Picoult’s Nineteen Minutes, and Jesse Andrews’ The Haters have been banned from Beaufort County Schools for a period of no less than five years.

Since October of 2022, our local newspaper has published no less than thirty articles about these book challenges. The school district has estimated that it will spend at least $8,500 on this review process. Meanwhile, an informal poll taken by our local newspaper revealed that the overwhelming majority of respondents believe that every step of this process has been wrong.

Here are three more things that we know: 
1) Book removals and bans are censorship.
2) Censorship is an attempt to erase American history.
3) Censorship erases the voices of LGBTQ+ youth and other marginalized communities from the classroom.

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Avoid These Three Mistakes

1) Don’t assume that your district will not be targeted. The groups behind these challenges are organized at a national level. They are not public institutions that are bound by district regulations and state law. They have plenty of time, energy, and resources–much more than your district does.

2) Don’t assume that these are the same kinds of book challenges that you might have read about in James Moffett’s Storm in the Mountains (1988) or Joan DelFattore’s What Johnny Shouldn’t Read (1992). Your town is not in danger of becoming the town from Footloose. Your town is in danger of becoming an unsafe place for children and adolescents from marginalized communities. These book challenges are operating in concert with the hundreds of bills working their way through state legislators that seek to fundamentally shift what students are allowed to learn and which groups of people have the right to exist. 

3) Don’t assume that book challenges are about the books. In 2023, book challenges are not about books! They are about the people who are represented by the books. When you or your district choose to play the would-be censor’s game, you are telling entire groups of people that they do not matter. Scores of children, adolescents, and adults across the country have heard that message loud and clear.

Know Your Procedures to Avoid Unforced Errors

Our local school district had a form entitled “Request For Reconsideration of School Library Materials Form.” The school district publishes all Freedom of Information Act requests and results on its website, so we know the following about the complaint form submitted by one of the complainants:

1) For “Title of Material,” the complainant wrote “96 Books provided.” This request can and should have been denied because no specific book was asked to be reconsidered. Is that what a fussy teacher would say? Yes, but it is okay to be fussy when it comes to protecting our students’ right to read.

2) When asked if the complainant had read the material, she checked “no.” If your district’s policy does not stipulate that a complainant has read the book that they find objectionable in order to object to it, consider advocating for a change to that policy. If a degreed professional has ordered a book for a school library, perhaps a complainant should have to at least read the book in question before demanding its removal.

3) In response to what the complainant finds objectionable, she wrote, “To normalize and expose to minors explicit [material].” I chose not to provide here what the complainant listed as explicit, but I find the implication that authors, librarians, teachers, and other school officials are committing multiple crimes to be repugnant and representative of a lack of civility. If your school board meetings have procedures to deal with repugnant behavior and/or harassment, consider that language on forms and in correspondence should be held to the same standards.

4) When asked how the complainant perceives students would be affected by material, she wrote, “What I perceive is not in question. It is against the law to disseminate material that is harmful to minors.” I interpret this answer as “I don’t know.” Again, the bar to a book challenge ought to be higher than–well, nothing. Consider making sure your district’s guidelines are specific and put an actual burden of proof on the complainant.

5) Finally, when asked what action they would like taken by the district, the complainant wrote, “Immediately remove the material from all schools and enact a policy to ensure no more material of this nature is allowed to make it into the district whether in school libraries, assigned in curriculum, or in classroom libraries.” Ultimately, the action requested is an overreach. The parent is demanding unilateral power over a public government entity. That is not a valid demand.

Some other procedural notes to consider:

Our current local school district procedure for considering books that have been challenged is a committee that may be comprised of seven individuals, ranging from district teachers, staff, parents, and other community members. Colleen Hoover’s It Ends with Us was removed by a committee of five members, and Jodi Picoult’s Nineteen Minutes was removed by a committee of three members. 

Community participation in these committees is randomized; I have yet to be selected to participate in any of the committees despite putting my name in to serve back in November of 2022. I find it troubling that anyone can demand that books be removed from school libraries and classrooms, but someone who teaches, researches, and publishes on YAL, secondary education, and censorship has to be “randomly chosen.” Meanwhile, Jodi Picoult’s book about a school shooting was banned by a committee of three people. Just a reminder: there were 51 school shootings in the United States in 2022.

Every district should have a process in place to allow a parent to request that their child not be required to read or not have access to certain books. Nearly every district already has that process already. Perhaps it would be worthwhile for districts to have a process in place for a parent to have the ability to shield their child from a broad spectrum of books based on maturity rating and/or content. Consider adopting such a broader policy to prevent these sorts of bad faith challenges.

What districts should absolutely not do is allow one parent to dictate how all other parents decide to raise their children. If book banners want the freedom to dictate how they raise their children, then districts must ensure that their policies shield other parents from parental overreach.

​When Principles Matter and When They Don’t

My university has chosen not to publicly denounce censorship in general, the people who are seeking to ban the books, or the school district personnel who have enabled the book-banning. Something about upsetting the apple cart. Well, the apple cart is on fire, and now no one will have any apples. Civility is not more important than watching freedom and liberty burn.

A funny thing about civility, while we’re on the subject: It is very difficult for school officials to handle a delicate situation such as book challenges when people attend district meetings, shout, make threats, and file actual criminal complaints with the local sheriff’s office. 

However, there are many university faculty, government officials, and elected representatives who do want to provide support. While it would be nice for them to do so unprompted, especially considering how stressful and time-consuming dealing with these would-be censors can be, don’t hesitate to ask for help. Better still, though, reach out before the challenges occur.

Rally Your Stakeholders–NOW!

Contact your local universities and colleges to figure out how you can make a stand together when the time comes. If necessary, remind them that these people will come after their libraries and bookstores. Remind them that, if books are banned, it will be a lot more difficult to ignore those bans when the same people behind these campaigns have convinced the state legislature to eliminate tenure.

Contact local law enforcement agencies. Ensure that they are aware of the kinds of criminal complaints that have been made against district personnel in school districts across the country. Provide appropriate background as well as district procedures for book challenges. It is one thing to know that these criminal complaints are ridiculous and offensive; it is quite another to know that law enforcement is on your side. 

Are your district’s librarians having discussions with your city/county public librarians? College and university librarians? For those who graduated from an ALA-accredited MLIS program, do those ALA-accredited institutions have any support that they might be able to lend?

Has your district’s legal department had a conversation with your state’s local ACLU office yet? Now would be a very good time for that. The same is true for any friendly state or national legislator.

Final Thoughts

The Clash have a song called “Know Your Rights.” The funny thing about rights is that they are theoretical until you need them. We only find out how real those rights are when they are tested. When a school district chooses not to dismiss a bad faith complaint outright, follow procedure when a proper complaint is made, or stand up for the principles of public education in general, rights remain untested and hypothetical.

Teachers and librarians–we are highly trained, yes. We are also fallible, and we certainly do not hold ourselves in any esteem above parents and other community stakeholders. We want parents to be involved in the work that we do. We invite dialogue, and we will never require a student to read a book that a parent wishes them not to read. At the same time, the ways in which book challengers are conducting themselves is irresponsible, dishonest, and reprehensible. 

We do not have to deal in good faith with those who operate in bad faith. Do you remember what else they taught us to do when someone who means to do us harm attacks us? Make as much noise as you can. Now is not the time to be nice. Now is not the time to be afraid of who might misinterpret what you have to say if you don’t phrase it in just the right way. Now is the time for you to tell all the children, adolescents, and adults from all marginalized communities that you have our backs–that you won’t play this game anymore.

Because, as Reverend Shaw asked that crowd of book-burners, “When you’ve burned all of these, what are you going to do then?” Ask yourself that same question; if you know the answer, why would you allow these book-banning campaigns to continue?