Monday, August 14, 2006

We have eaten all the cake.

This letter is in the most recent School Library Journal:
I felt since I have subscribed to SLJ for the past 19 years I should provide an explanation for canceling my school's subscription. Your edition highlighting books for students with alternative sexual preferences (January 2006) was indicative of the disregard you display for elementary school libraries and your blatant political agenda. Because my position as an elementary school librarian requires that I spend public funds with care, respecting the beliefs and tastes of the community I serve (in other words, it is not my job to impose my beliefs or politics on the people who pay my salary), I can no longer justify the very considerable cost of your magazine.
So, because of one issue, this junior high library will no longer have access to one of the highly and widely regarded review sources for childrens books.
Because of one fucking issue.
Here I'm going to set aside my gut reaction.* I may pick it up later. I just hate the idea that having ONE ISSUE of a magazine with a cover story about gay teen lit, which is a significant trend like any other significant trend in books for youth (ha! you thought I'd say kid's books, didn't ya?), means you've got a "political agenda" that shouldn't be imposed on her community. Because, of course, every single one of those junior high kids is as straight as the day is long. And they all hate fags.
Because, you know, I get annoyed, too, when I pick up a journal and every book reviewed is one that I know my crew wouldn’t pick up. Or when Booklist pulls their “This book has YA appeal for all those YAs out there interested in veterinary science” crap. But I still read them, because there are plenty of librarians with crews out there who like the stuff mine doesn’t. I don’t dictate the whole fucking world of collection development, and clearly this woman thinks she can.
And isn’t it a bit hypocritical to stop an entire magazine, and publicly (her name, by the way, is Sandra Keraghan, and her school is Jerling Junior High), because you respect what you feel are your community’s beliefs based on one issue? One issue that, if memory serves me correctly, wasn’t even entirely dedicated to the cover story?
***
When I like or dislike a book or series, that’s my opinion. I’m very aware of the fact that, to some people, my opinion counts as more because of my job, but I also take great care to not gush about something unless I’m as sure as possible that the patron I’m gushing to will feel the same way. Or is comfortable enough to disagree with me.
The other day, one of my regulars told me he read Cut My Hair on my recommendation, but didn’t like it. This just about broke my heart, but I don’t think any less of either of us for it.
I got into a big argument, kind of, with my YA lit professor in library school over the terms “high fantasy” and “low fantasy”. Basically, my argument was that thinking I’d rather stick a fork in my eye than read any more Tolkien didn’t make me less smart, or not as good a reader as people who know all the mythology and shit of Middle Earth. Isn’t that what we all paid Peter Jackson for?
I just don’t think this is talked about enough by those of us who recommend things to people who are younger than we are. How much are we just forcing our tastes and beliefs, whether those beliefs are that public funds should not be spent on So Hard To Say (which is adorable, incidentally), that the Gossip Girls are the sole reason teen girls are obsessed with appearances and brandnames, that smart kids will love the latest Printz winner because it’s literary, or that anyone who doesn’t think Douglas Adams is funny has no soul? I don’t like Sarah Dessen, but I still buy her books.
Does every book librarians, teachers, and other adults love have a Catcher Cult**? How do we avoid the cultishness of our favorite books, anyway?
--Or maybe I'm just cranky because the parents that gave up rules when they started living like freaky beatniks are here "parenting" their son, who is screaming. Why are high ceilings so valued in libraries, again?--

*Which really is probably your gut reaction, too. If you're offended by the idea that gay teens deserve everything straight teens take for granted, than what on earth do you see of value in anything I have to say?...Or, I heart preaching to the choir.
**Dude, read King Dork. Reading it doesn’t mean you’re smart or cool or whatever, but, if you think I’m worth reading, you’ll probably be a fan. Unless you aren’t. And that’s cool, too—just c’mon back and I’ll recommend something else you should read.

3 comments:

Tiff said...

sing it sister...

i hate when certain people i work with apply their "values" to things we have to catalog, referring to things as trash, when they don't even listen to music or watch movies or read non-mystery paperbacks...

Anonymous said...

You don't know me, but I read your blog regularly. This entry reminded me of a conversation in my Literature For the Adolescent course in college in 2000. We were discussing Weetzie Bat, and I mentioned that we used to recommend this constantly when I was a library volunteer. A school librarian across the room was appalled and gave me a tongue-lashing about the terrible messages the book sent to kids (her problem seemed to be Dirk and Duck, particularly the scene where they share a bed with Weetzie) and how this book should be kept away from them. The English teacher next to her burst out, "If I had known there were books like this about families like mine, I wouldn't have tried to kill myself as a teenager!"
That's what I think of when I hear people talk about excluding gay/lesbian YA literature. I'd like to see that guy tour the country and lecture to educators and school librarians.

PoBaL said...

And that's what I love about the new-ish wave of gayteenlit: there's something for everybody.
Because as much love as I have for Weetzie and her family, I know those stories (and the style they're told in) aren't for everybody.
I'm actually really selective who I recommend FLB to, mostly because it breaks my heart a little everytime someone admits to not being a fan ;)
Which is what I'm really trying to say, I guess. Even though we're in the business of advising readers, we need to keep in mind that our personal loves don't necessarily translate into universal loves. And that's okay.
(Thanks for reading, btw!)