One of the great gifts of being an academic is working with PhD candidates who have great ideas and work hard to turn interesting ideas into dissertations. Even better is when you are asked to be part of a committee for a student at another university. 

Our next contributor was a PhD student at Arizona State University and a student of Jim Blasingame. We met at a NCTE Convention and a year or so later I got to sit on her commiittee. It was great, I was able to miss all of the paper work and day to day encouragement and just read a wonderful project. Now several years latter Mandy is a thriving assisstant professor at Utah Valley University.

My final unit for my Young Adult Literature course at Utah Valley University is on book censorship; a topic that is both timely and contentious, especially in the state of Utah. For this unit, I begin by having students take a poll on their phones or computers using polleverywhere.com, where they respond to the statement: 'There is never a reason to ban books in schools,' by choosing a position from 1 (strongly disagree) to 5 (strongly agree).This certainly gets the students talking. Many students tend to be more on the neutral to agree end, but I always have a few outliers which contributes to a dynamic initial discussion.

​I then flash a local news article from 2023 on the projector with the headline, “Utah author’s children’s book about a kitten is being pulled from school libraries over claims it is ‘sexually suggestive’” (Cortez). I say to my students, “Maybe some books are just inappropriate for young readers and should be removed.” I show them the cover of Itty Bitty Kitty-Corn (2021) by Shannon Hale and illustrated by LeUyen Pham and read the picturebook aloud, which follows the story of Kitty who really wants to be a unicorn, but is mocked by those around her. She then meets Unicorn, who longs to be a kitty. Unicorn reveals to Kitty: “Did you know…that I am a Kitty-corn?” Kitty responds, “Yes, I see that now, you are a Kitty-corn. You are a fuzzy, fury, adorable, Kitty-corn.” To which Unicorn replies with the best line from the book, “I knew that another Kitty-corn like you would see.”

​Half my class sighs, the other half looks a bit teary-eyed, and I nod my head, “yes, these books are just too inappropriate for kids to read.”

​As a university professor in a largely conservative state but in a fairly progressive-leaning humanities college, I strive to lead these discussions through inquiry rather than imposition. Though, if I’m completely honest, the clandestine navigation against censorship and legal bans and towards trusting teachers and librarians is present.

​As John Green states, “I don’t think it should be up to me whether Looking for Alaska, or actually any book is in a school or a library, because I’m not a teacher or a librarian, the highly trained, criminally underpaid professionals we’ve employed to make those decisions” (2016, 2:07).

We continue the unit with definitions on bans vs. challenges, censorship vs. soft censorship and so on. Students are also asked to read, listen, and watch a variety of content which includes:

• An Open Letter to Parents Who Wish to Ban My Books from School Libraries by Bill Konigberg (2022)
• The NPR Podcast- When Schools Ban Books by 1A (2021)
• The PBS video- History of Book Bans (2020)
• The Washington Post article - The Rise in Book Bans, Explained by Angela Haupt (2022)
• The ALA website featuring Banned Books Week- https://www.ala.org/bbooks/banned
• John Green’s video “On Banning Looking for Alaska” (2016)
• Trevor Noah’s The Daily Show video “America’s Book Bans: The Latest Culture War Front”(2022)
• And a deep dive into the Utah State Board of Education’s website detailing how books become “removed” from Utah schools-Sensitive Materials Flow Chart and Definitions

​During our second class session in the unit, we walked through the official Utah School Board process for reviewing and potentially removing “sensitive materials.” Students were surprised to learn how vague the guidelines can be—and how many books have already been pulled from school shelves (currently 18), including works from authors like Ellen Hopkins, Toni Morrison, Judy Blume, and-- notably taking up five spots-- Sarah J. Maas. 

That’s when one student raised his hand and declared: “Well…pornography should be banned from schools.”
I hadn’t realized we were talking about pornography, but I let him continue. His argument was that porn is inherently bad and that the industry exploits those involved. I didn’t object, but I did ask him to elaborate: Who gets to define what counts as porn? Were we really seeing examples of pornography in the materials that had been challenged or removed from school shelves? And one thing I didn’t press him on—but have thought about since—is how his understandable concern about exploitation in the porn industry connects to the kinds of books being pulled. I’m not sure it does.

According to this student, ACOTAR (A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sara J. Maas) was rightfully removed since it was clearly porn.
 
As someone who has read most of the ACOTAR books (I bowed out by book three once the romantic tension fizzled--because what’s the point?) my eyebrows raised. Was this porn? I certainly don’t consider it to be so-- romantasy, yes. Porn, no. 

Another student jumped in to state: “Well, then you’d need to determine what defines porn vs. smut in literature.” Fair point. And once again: Even if a book contains sexual content—does that make it inappropriate for all teens? And does it justify legal removal? Furthermore, couldn’t we trust educators to assign and advertise the right material for students?

Another student brought up the question, “What about teens who have phones? They have access to a slew of inappropriate material. If they want to find it, they will.”
​
The first student responded, “Just because they can access inappropriate material doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to shield them from it.”

​Which raises a real tension: Is the goal to shield students from content, or to help them navigate it critically? During our contemporary fiction and authenticity unit earlier in the semester, the students had read pieces from Laurie Halse Anderson and the Time’s article by Matt de La Pena (2018), “Why We Shouldn’t Shield Children From Darkness.” My students have already carefully discussed the importance of tough material to be accessible to young readers. But I guess when we talk about sexual content--and consensual sexual content for that matter-- that’s different?

​I brought up the point to my students that often, book bans target what’s trending. The real threat isn’t the content—it’s the popularity. These are the same books many mothers are reading secretly but don’t want their teenage daughters to read (my Bunco group, anyone?). We’ve seen it before: Fifty Shades of Grey was the target 14 years ago. The titles change, but the motivations don’t.

According to author Foz Meadows (2021), “it’s ultimately less about helping kids and teens than it is about helping adults to police them.” 

The same student continued: “At the very least, we should put ratings on books. We have ratings for movies, why don’t we have them on books?”
​
This comment transported me back to standing in front of James Blasingame’s Young Adult Literature class at Arizona State University, as a new PhD student completing a graduate teaching internship in his course. At the beginning of class I had been asked to give the day’s “book talk.” As an ultra-conservative-university-raised academic, and, thinking I was being helpful, I offered a movie-style rating during my plot summary. At the time, I thought I was empowering students with information. Now, I cringe.

In response to the student, I acknowledged that while book ratings might seem like a good idea to many, numerous authors and literary scholars are strongly opposed to them. I asked my students why they thought that might be, and the general consensus was that ratings can oversimplify—and even stigmatize—complex works. Additionally, ratings can function as a form of soft censorship, leading parents, teachers, librarians, and others to avoid shelving certain books based on broad classifications that fail to reflect how sensitive topics and themes are actually presented.

At this point, I moved on with the day’s lesson plan-- but what I should have done is hopped on the classroom computer and done an AI search for a list of the pros and cons of book ratings. According to Chat GPT, pros and cons of adding ratings to YA Books can include the following:

Now that the semester has come to an end, I’ve continued to ruminate on that classroom conversation. That one comment—“Isn’t ACOTAR just porn?”—sparked a dynamic debate, not just about Sarah J. Maas, but about what we allow teens to read, who gets to decide, and how we define boundaries around literature. Should teens be shielded from sexual content, or taught to navigate it? Should books come with ratings to warn—or to restrict? And when we say a book is “too much,” are we protecting students, or policing their experiences?

These aren’t easy questions, and my goal isn’t to answer them for my students—but to create the conditions for them to grapple with these questions deeply and honestly. What continues to surprise me, even after years of teaching this unit, is how quickly the conversation shifts from hypotheticals to the deeply personal. Students talk about books that changed them, and like Kitty and Unicorn, helped them feel seen. They also recognize how easily those books might have been the ones challenged or pulled. I specifically had a student who mentioned it made her sad that the ACOTAR books were on the banned list, since those books got her through a really rough time when she was in high school. We never know which books will be the ones that students need. And it’s a shame if we block them from the ones they do. 

In a moment when book bans are escalating and trust in educators is under threat, I come back to what John Green reminded us: It’s not the job of politicians or external stakeholders to make these decisions. It’s the job of the trained professionals—teachers and librarians—who know the students, the community, and the curriculum. And maybe, more importantly, it's our job as educators to trust students. If the works they choose are perhaps too mature or even triggering for them, we teach them to be responsible and accountable readers, to know it’s okay to put a book down (or skip ahead). And we also trust them to engage with tough, complex, and meaningful literature—that they have the ability to ask questions, wrestle with ambiguity, and form their own conclusions.
​
While I may have had moments of discomfort during an unexpected conversation on “porn” in my classroom, it’s exactly the kind of discussion I want my YA classroom to make space for.

 
Cortez, M. (2023, October 6). Book challenge to ‘Itty-Bitty Kitty-Corn’ halts new library books in Texas. Deseret News. https://www.deseret.com/utah/2023/10/6/23901523/book-challenge-itty-bitty-kitty-corn-shannon-hale/
de la Peña, M. (2018, January 9). Why we shouldn't shield children from darkness. Time. https://time.com/5093669/why-we-shouldnt-shield-children-from-darkness/
Green, John. (2016, April 12). On the banning of Looking for Alaska [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69rd-7vEF3s
Hale, S., & Pham, L. (2021). Itty bitty kitty-corn. Abrams Books for Young Readers.
Maas, S. J. (2015). A court of thorns and roses. Bloomsbury Publishing.
Meadows, F. (2021, September 16). YA book ratings? Here's why not. Shattersnipe: Malcontent & Rainbows. https://fozmeadows.wordpress.com/2021/09/16/ya-book-ratings-heres-why-not/

We have been on a bit of a hiatus. I took time off accompany my wife on the Camino de Santiago. Spain is wonderful. When you slow down the pace of your life, things move to the bottom of the "must do to do list."

​We are back this week with a new post by Morgan Shiver.

Did you know that Iron Man was chosen as the focal character for the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) because of feedback from a test group of children? Or that nearly 50% of audience members for Marvel’s highest-ever grossing film, Avengers: Endgame, were under the age of 25?

Although the majority of Marvel’s characters are adults, young people make up most of the MCU’s audience and influence many of the franchise’s creative and business decisions. From the comics that started the brand through its present-day blockbuster films, Marvel’s stories cater to a young adult audience. This, in my opinion, opens room for the films of the MCU to be considered young adult literature (YAL). Considering films as literature has ample educational value for both students and teachers, a fact that NCTE has repeatedly explored and organizations like Teach with Movies have long advocated for. In being considered YAL, the MCU films can provide insights into the young adult experience and audience. Over a year ago, as I recognized Marvel’s connection to young adults, I wondered: If we approach Marvel movies as YAL, what can we learn about how young people both influence and are influenced by popular culture? This was the premise of my college-level Youth Literature and Culture course, which I decided to focus on the MCU’s most popular era, from Iron Man (2008) to Avengers: Endgame (2019). 

​Below, I detail some of the methods, projects, and activities my students and I utilized as we approached the MCU films as YAL. Considering the films as works of literature, my students refined and developed the same critical thinking and analysis skills required in any literature class, but, by specifically focusing on the films as YAL, they were also able to inquire about how popular culture and stories construct and engage with what it means to be a young adult. 

​Because we were approaching the Marvel films as literature, my students were able to practice close reading skills as we made our way through the semester. We began by identifying common themes and discussing character development. These conversations led us to more advanced analysis, recognizing things like symbols and allegories within the MCU’s stories. In our discussion of the film Avengers: Infinity War (2018), for example, students had an extended conversation about how mega-villain Thanos’ switch blade, which he gives to his adopted daughter Gamora, serves as a representation of toxic relationships and a physical symbol of the cycle of abuse. My students, many of whom readily admitted they didn’t think of films as literature at the start of the semester, were able to have advanced-level critical conversations about the stories we encountered in the MCU. I found that discussions with this group of students, who represented a wide range of majors that were taking the class for general education credit, could rival discussions I’ve had with English majors in upper-level literature courses. 

The use of films in literature classrooms is also an excellent way to develop students’ visual literacy skills, something that educator Diana Minor establishes as critical for students in the 21st century, explaining that the analysis of visual messages “encourages student reflection, analysis, and evaluative thinking skills.” As we approached the MCU films critically, students naturally connected some of the literary elements we discussed to visual details on screen. When the Avengers begin to clash amongst themselves in the first Avengers film, there is a scene where, as the heroes argue, the camera begins to tilt until the Avengers appear upside down. In class, I brought my students’ attention to this scene, and we discussed how the camera angles and movement enhanced the tone of story. Later, when we watched Black Panther (2018), there is a shot in the film when Eric Killmonger, the films’ antagonist, assumes the throne of Wakanda. As he enters the throne room, the camera shot starts completely upside down, rotating 180 degrees before he takes his seat. This time, I didn’t have to point out the visual details in the scene, and my students readily connected the images in this moment to some of the larger themes and conflicts in the film. As my students honed more traditional close-reading skills while watching the Marvel movies, they also developed their visual literacy. 

With each film we watched, we took the time to consider how the story characterized or engaged with the concept of youth, as we would with any YAL. Interestingly, these conversations led to my students noticing a pattern of parallels between MCU heroes and the typical YA protagonist. Although many of the MCU’s heroes are adults, they tend to have teen-like interests and characteristics. Loki and Thor struggle with their brotherly dynamic; Tony Stark is often reprimanded for being impulsive or not thinking through the consequences of his actions; Hulk struggles to manage his anger. Nearly all of the heroes grapple with questions of identity and responsibility, calling back to the question that Roberta Seelinger Trites identifies as being at the center of young adult literature: “Do I dare disturb the universe?” Not to mention, all of the heroes are singled out as “chosen ones” and take it upon themselves to save the world, a trope that is much more prominent in YAL than adult literature (Harry Potter, Katniss Everdeen, Percy Jackson, Zélie Adebola, the list goes on...). The correlations between the MCU and the young adult genre make a strong case for not just considering Marvel films as literature, but as YAL, specifically. 

As modern-day epics, Marvel films lend themselves especially well to investigations of narrative forms and devices that stem from canonical works like The Odyssey or Beowulf. The patterns that we’ve come to recognize from these classic tales are ones that are often replicated in the YA genre today and can equally be applied to the heroes of the MCU. For example, at the end of the semester, I asked my students to consider how Campbell’s Hero’s Journey framework applied to Captain America and Iron Man’s character arcs over all of the movies we’d watched that semester. Purposefully, I centered our assigned watchlist on these two characters, beginning with their origins in Iron Man (2008) and Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) and ending with (spoiler!) Iron Man’s death and Captain America’s effective retirement in Avenger’s Endgame. 

First, I gave a mini lecture on the formal stages of the Hero’s Journey (here is a helpful video that works well to break down the stages). Then, in small groups, students attributed specific moments from Iron Man and Captain America’s narratives to the different stages of Campbell’s Hero’s Journey. Students identified the two heroes’ mentors: Yinsin, a scientist held captive in Afghanistan for Iron Man, and Dr. Erskine, also a scientist, for Captain America. Captain America’s selection to receive super serum and Iron Man’s escape from captivity were identified as the heroes’ calls to action. Thanos, the ultimate villain, was chosen as the heroes’ supreme ordeal. This activity has the potential to be done with a single film––they all have fairly conclusive arcs––but, armed with the ten films we’d watched over the course of the semester, students had plenty of content to draw from as they used Campbell’s framework. 

After each group of students had effectively mapped out their Hero’s Journey, I asked my students to make an amendment to their lists: add one extra stage to Campbell’s framework to make this a Superhero’s Journey. Groups added things like “inspiring death” (both heroes’ initial mentors die, something that changes and motivates the men) and “choosing service over love” (both heroes make sacrifices in personal relationships as they become heroes) to their lists. By applying and then amending Campbell’s framework, students not only engaged with a long-standing formal narrative device, but they also took their critical thinking one step further by reflecting on the films they’d watched and considering how the classic Hero’s Journey might have evolved in contemporary superhero tales. 

Because of Marvel films’ massive popularity, my students and I were able to take a deep dive into the franchise’s connections to the real-world. With our focus on YAL, we specifically investigated how the films, as a part of a bigger brand, target and engage with young people. To guide students along this line of inquiry, I created small projects called Exploration Activities that focused on the different ways that Marvel engages with young people in the real world. These projects allowed students to independently investigate the MCU’s marketing, messaging, and merchandising and collaboratively consider what these different facets of the franchise revealed about the way that Marvel understands young fans. 

As a class, we compiled everyone’s completed Exploration Activities and treated them as a case study of how the Marvel brand interacts with young consumers. Quickly, students noticed trends related to gender and race: Marvel seemed to explicitly target boys unless a female superhero was being featured, and many of the children/young adults featured on packaging were white, unless the merchandise was related to a franchise with a predominantly minority cast, like Black Panther. Soon, students began to consider what their findings revealed about the way young adults are perceived as consumers. Merchandise targeted toward young children––toys, coloring books, stuffed animals––supported imaginative play and creativity. For young kids, the merchandise was a source of inspiration for fun in their everyday lives. The merchandise that targeted young adults––hats, t-shirts, decor, and collectibles––functioned as ways for fans to express their interest in the brand. Compared to the merchandise intended for children, the young adult merchandise was more of a representation of a person’s identity than a vehicle for play and imagination. Insights about the differences in merchandise that correlated with these two age groups revealed a narrative about “growing up” that suggests adolescence marks a shift from imaginative engagement to identity performance. This is a belief often played out in the YA genre, as teens begin to form their independent identities and shed some of their childlike playfulness.  

For one of the Exploration Activities, students visited a local store to find a piece of Marvel merchandise that was targeting children or young adults. Once they’d located their merchandise, they took photos and made notes about the way the merchandise was presented, paying attention to details like shelf location, packaging, and presentation. Then, they wrote a short report about their piece of merchandise, speculating about what kind of messaging the merchandise was communicating, how it related to the larger Marvel brand, and how it actively appealed to child and young adult consumers. 

Making these real-world connections outside of the films themselves allowed my students to seriously consider how the Marvel brand, much like YA literature, participates in shaping and reflecting dominant ideas about what it means to be a young adult. In particular, completing the merchandise project made students more aware of how cultural narratives inform every aspect of our lives, from the fictional stories we enjoy to the merchandise that goes along with them.

I know it is a rare opportunity as an English instructor to teach a class centered entirely on films, especially one focused on a singular, popular entity such as the MCU, but I hope my experience serves as an example of how well films can work in a literary context. By treating the Marvel films as YAL, my students and I were able to engage in a level of critical thinking and inquiry that I believe is on par with that of a traditional literature course. To close, I’ve included a few comments from end-of-semester reflections written by my students, who seem to agree that films are a worthwhile inclusion in a literature classroom: 

• “In terms of how this class will impact me in the future, this has increased my interest in the MCU, but I’ve also heightened my ability to notice imagery and analyze scenes on the first pass through”
• “Another aspect of the class I really gained a lot from was learning how to pick apart major ideologies in a film. I enjoyed picking apart the films and finding a deeper meaning in them.”
• “Going forward, I think I will view children’s media more critically and consider things that I would’ve never noticed prior to this class.”
• “This class helped me reconnect with the love of English and the world of analysis”
• “As a future teacher this class opened up my perspective to other worlds of literature. I have spent so much time trying to convince people to love reading, and didn't realize that we can get the same degree of depth in media that is more popular and digestible for young people.”

Minor, Diana. (2021, Jan. 17). Visual literacy is critical for 21st century learners. NCTE, https://ncte.org/blog/2021/01/visual-literacy-critical-21st-century-learners/
 
Trites, R. S. (2000). Disturbing the universe: power and repression in adolescent literature. University of Iowa Press.
 
Using film as a tool in the classroom. (2017, May 14). NCTE, https://ncte.org/blog/2017/05/using-movies-improve-visual-literacy/