A fifth-grade teacher who showed her class a Disney film. A children’s book author whose graphic novel about a Boy Scout shot to the top of the banned books list. A 27-year veteran of Florida’s public school system who was accused of “Marxist” indoctrination of his students for teaching an AP African American history class.
These are some of the people with livelihoods threatened by what’s been called the “ed scare” – a coordinated attempt by conservative-backed groups like Moms for Liberty and Citizens Defending Freedom to prohibit instruction about race, sexuality and gender in US public education.
Teaching has always been hard, with staff chronically overworked and underpaid, but many say that morale has never been lower, especially in states like Florida, where an educator could lose their license just for asking a student their preferred pronouns. After the Florida governor, Ron DeSantis, passed the Parental Rights in Education Act (better known as the “don’t say gay” law) last year, North Carolina, Arkansas, Iowa and Indiana adopted similar legislation. While 70% of parents reported in a 2022 poll that they opposed library book bans, attempts were made to censor 1,915 library books in the first eight months of 2023 – a record high, according to the American Library Association. Most of the challenged books were written by or feature characters who are people of color or LGBTQ+.
Free speech advocates, publishers and educators have fought back. Notably, four bestselling authors signed on to Penguin Random House’s federal lawsuit against Iowa’s book ban, saying the law “discriminates against LGBTQ+ viewpoints and authors”. One newly appointed Pennsylvania school board member symbolically took her oath of office with one hand placed on a stack of frequently challenged books. In June, Illinois became the first state to outlaw book bans.
Two teachers and two authors spoke to the Guardian about what they have learned from a year spent battling bans and harassment.
The history teacher: ‘My mailbox was blown up’
Brandt Robinson, a high school history teacher in Palm Harbor, Florida
This is my 27th year of teaching. I teach at the same high school that our governor attended, and I actually taught his sister, Christina, in my AP history class. Christina tragically died [after an illness in 2015], but if she were alive today, she would be the first one to say: “Mr Robinson would have never tried to indoctrinate us.”
Moms for Liberty accused me of trying to indoctrinate students with Marxism. They objected to my AP African American history textbook, which they said supposedly taught critical race theory. After they made me one of their biggest targets in Florida, I began to mobilize against this type of censorship. I’ve been interviewed over 30 times in the past few years. I wish more journalists had homed in on the initial claim that I was indoctrinating students. What does that mean, really? I would never use a lesson to try to make a student feel guilt or anguish. I can’t control when a student feels discomfort, but that’s a part of learning.
In the past, when teaching about plantation slavery, I’d have my students read slave narratives, or I’d show them a video clip about Nat Turner’s revolt. Now, I’m going to shy away from those deeper practices because I’m more concerned about losing my job.
My house has been egged three times, and my driveway was vandalized twice. On the Fourth of July, someone blew up my mailbox. I think they put a few M-80 [firecrackers] in there, and it was totally destroyed to just metal scraps. Thankfully, I wasn’t home at the time.
I have my master’s degree in African American history. My heroes are people like Ida B Wells, Fannie Lou Hamer. Many of them did what I’m doing, but they lived in poverty and under constant threat of racial violence. I don’t run around talking about white privilege – I think I’ve used the term “privilege” five times in my life – but I’m pretty privileged. I teach about these people from the past who were facing these dark times and managed to make a difference. Remembering that makes it easier for me to take a deep breath and keep doing what I’m doing. It’s not like I’m Sisyphus pushing a rock up the hill, but sometimes it does feel like that.
The banned-book author: ‘This isn’t a point of pride – this is a giant red flag’
Mike Curato is the author of Flamer, an award-winning, semi-autobiographical, YA graphic novel about a Boy Scout who is bullied for being gay
The first year Flamer was out, I didn’t get any complaints. Then, a Texas lawmaker put it on this McCarthy-esque list of books he wanted to put under investigation. That’s where it all started. People said that my book was pornography, that it’s destroying our youth. There’s nothing in my book that you wouldn’t find in a Judy Blume novel. It’s just happening to a gay character.
When people call me a pedophile and a groomer, I lose sleep over it. It makes me think about the people who I wrote this book for, and how they might not be able to read it if it’s banned. My book isn’t about sex, it’s about suicide prevention, validating the LGBT experience, calling out toxic masculinity. Queer suicide rates keep rising, and my book tells kids that there’s more to life than the harassment they face. Why would you want to take that away from someone? I think it’s important for authors to stand firm and say, “No, what we write is valid, and it’s not pornography. We’re just trying to help our own people stay alive.”
When I see my name on a banned books list, it does help to know I’m in good company. I mean, Toni Morrison’s name is right there. But it rubs me the wrong way when being on the list is referred to as a point of pride, because no, this is a giant red flag for all of us. When these books are banned, it indirectly causes real harm – if not to me, then to my readers.
A lot of young adult authors will get paid to do presentations at schools. I liked doing those visits, but now I’m more invited to speak for adult audiences at libraries and universities. I got one school invite this whole year, and it was from a librarian I already knew. It’s a big hit to my income.
A few months ago, I spoke at a library in the midwest. There was a teen there who wanted their book signed. They handed me a note, and they said: “I can’t say this to you out loud, but can I give this to you?” I read it in my hotel room that night and cried. People just want to be seen.
The fifth-grade teacher: ‘I had a calling to be a teacher – why didn’t they just let me teach?’
Jenna Barbee of Brooksville, Florida, showed her students Strange World, a Disney movie featuring a gay character. Her school district opened an investigation into the incident under the ‘don’t say gay’ law, which she said led to her resignation
I want to change the world. I really do. I believe the key to that is education, knowledge and acceptance. Kids don’t come into this world hating people or discriminating; they learn that later in life. But when I went into the public school system, I was so micromanaged. You don’t walk into a doctor’s office and tell the doctor how to do their job. But these people, like Moms for Liberty, who have never been teachers before, will walk into schools and tell us we’re not allowed to do something this way. I had a calling to be a teacher – why didn’t they just let me teach?
People are trying to act like I put their kids in danger by showing them a movie with a gay character, but I think they’re putting their kids in danger by not talking about it. We’re living through a mental health crisis because kids don’t feel safe being who they really are.
When I showed the film, I had people calling and threatening me. One guy called me and read me my address over the phone, saying he was going to come over. People would sign me up to random subscription emails, but they’d put my name as “Demon Groomer Bitch” or something like that. I got letters, emails, phone calls. I was in a depression for most of this summer, just trying to raise my infant son.
Fortunately, I got a job at a private school led by an incredible woman who’s more geared toward teaching emotional intelligence to kids. At the beginning of this year, a student asked me if they could put their pronouns on their notebook, and I said: “Of course, you do you.” I wouldn’t be able to do that if I still taught public school in Florida.
I’m writing a children’s book about acceptance, which was actually inspired by that phone threat I got from the man who said he was going to come to my house. I realized he was just so full of fear himself that he needed to feed that by freaking someone else out. That’s what fulfilled him for a quick second. My book is called Two Fires, and it’s about rejecting that fear, and instead tapping into the love and healing that lives inside all of us.
The author and speaker: ‘I’m scared for the kids who are growing up with these adults as role models’
Marc Tyler Nobleman, author of the children’s book Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman
My biggest book is about the creation of Batman. There’s this juicy, behind-the-scenes mystery: Batman was created by two people, a writer named Bill Finger and an artist named Bob Kane. But only Bob got credit. Bill worked anonymously for more than 25 years, creating not only Batman but the Joker, Catwoman and so many enduring elements of the story. He died in 1974 with no recognition.
When I wrote his story, I learned that he had a son, Fred, who died of Aids complications in the 90s. I mention Fred’s sexuality not because it’s some random fact, but because it’s relevant to the story. I’ve gotten pushback from teachers in the past when I speak at schools, but until this year I’ve managed to talk them out of censoring me.
That changed this fall, when I was speaking in Georgia. The principals of two elementary schools asked that I keep the speech “appropriate”, which meant that I not say gay. That went against my conscience, so I declined. They canceled my remaining talks.
That story got a lot of attention – good and bad. I’ve been called a groomer, pervert, disgusting creep. In San Antonio, a school canceled one of my talks because just one parent complained. I asked to get on the phone with the parent, because it’s worth a 15-minute phone call for me to ask about his complaint. When I told the dad that his complaint led to my cancellation, he said: “Good. My kid doesn’t need to hear about Batman fucking Spider-Man.” Nothing I could have said to this man would have made him reflect on his intolerance. These comments are scary, but not for me personally. I’m scared for the kids who are growing up with these adults as role models.
There are moments that give me hope. I was in Wisconsin, and a principal was nervous about me saying “gay”. At the last minute, I convinced her to let me say it. And of course, during the talk, no one reacted badly when I said Fred was gay. During the Q&A afterward, I called on this kid. He must have been in fourth or fifth grade. He raised his hand and said: “First, I have two moms. And second …” and he said something about Batman. I don’t know if that was his first time he felt like he could talk about his moms in school, but by the end the principal and I were on the verge of tears. I told her that moment only happened because she trusted me and she trusted her students.
