An Ounce of Prevention
Marcia Punsalan

Just as communication has advanced from party-line phones of the 1940s to Internet and satellite telecommunications, classroom literature must change to entice today’s students to read.   I began teaching a novel I believed would hook teen readers, including my class of 10th graders.

My district does not have a policy requiring pre-approval of books used supplemental to textbooks.  I did not notify the administration of my intentions, but did notify parents, offering an alternate selection.  I received no negative feedback from parents or students.  The novel is a masterfully crafted slice of life, historically connected and accurate—a memorable piece of modernity that is destined to impact the lives of all who read it long beyond turning the final page.  Its messages of values and morals are for today. 

In class, I stated that I do not teach literature.  I teach standards, and this popular book is filled with them:  great characterization; significant setting changes that impact the carefully intertwined plots and subplots; all four classic types of conflict; amazingly poignant and startlingly striking figurative language; magnificent imagery; universal themes; literary allusions; dramatic, situational, and verbal irony; personification; onomatopoeia; careful diction choices; and more. 

I created a standards-based unit incorporating cooperative and differentiated learning, short and extended writing assignments, and other activities that aligned well with state standards.  Students were hooked immediately.  Parents were “amazed” to see high-schoolers actually reading at home! 

About halfway through I was called to the office where I was told the curriculum tool I had selected was not appropriate and I was to cease using it immediately.  They had received a complaint about “words and violence,” but “preferred not to divulge the complainant’s name.”  (The complainant turned out to be a staff member, not a parent of any of my students.)

I was unaware, but soon learned, that our district has a policy for dealing with citizens’ complaints.  Ironically, administration, initially themselves unaware of board policy, violated every step of the policy in the ensuing days.

In a state of shock, I returned to class and, as directed, told my students we were ready to move on to other lessons.  Let me tell you, either I’m a poor actress or students are smarter than the administration thinks, because they didn’t buy it for a second! 

Within days, a great lesson in irony transpired:  The discontinued novel began to be spoken of in whispers as “The Banned Book.” 

Some students observed that The Book had become “forbidden fruit,” even as some teachers questioned students carrying The Book, asking why they were “still reading That Book.” 

Students mentioned that our own school library owns The Book, and questioned how such a situation can exist! “We have The Book in our library, but we can’t read it?”  All copies of The Book were out of the community library, and the waiting list was long!  I was depressed—yet jubilant. 

That’s when I sought help.  A colleague, previously challenged for a different work, suggested I contact the National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE).  I filed a censorship notification on NCTE’s Web site and received e-mails and calls promptly, offering me support and direction.  They also referred me to OCTELA (Ohio Council of Teachers of English Language Arts).

Currently the novel is under evaluation by a committee that includes the curriculum director, an administrator from a district elementary and middle school, a librarian, a district elementary and middle school teacher, a community member, and a union representative.  By board policy, the committee may not include a representative from the building where the complaint was generated.  Since there is only one high school in the district, our language arts department, therefore, is not represented. 

This committee should have been formed within five days (board policy)—it was not.  The committee should have handed down a recommendation within ten days—it did not.  Access to the challenged book should not have been restricted during the evaluation process—it was.

Administrators now say they will review all books used beyond board adopted textbooks to determine whether they are appropriate for classroom use.  This challenge experience has taught me valuable lessons, both personally and as language arts chairperson. 

First, establish a list of books used supplemental to textbooks.  Meet with department teachers, decide appropriate grade levels, get the union involved, and begin.  Arrange the list as appropriate for student ages and reading abilities, for district “climate,” and for the teacher who wishes to reserve a work for his or her own teaching.  If the department is willing to challenge the status quo, prepare even more carefully.

Now ask the curriculum director to assist in getting similar lists from the entire district.  The last thing you want to happen is that half your students have read the novel the previous year.

The next step is to work independently, each teacher considering every word or situation in his or her book that could possibly be misunderstood or challenged out of context.  Be proactive now to alleviate the need to be reactive later! 

Write a rationale for every piece of literature to be taught, because the rationale will be invaluable if there is a challenge.  Own those rationales.  NCTE has a great format:
http://www.ncte.org/about/issues/censorship/resources/115785.htm 

Sounds like a lot of work?  At first, I thought so too, but was pleasantly surprised.  Using NCTE’s “recipe,” the rationale is likely to be only two to three pages.  A few summer days of organizing and writing will bring teachers closer to the literature they love, and will prepare them for potential questions or challenges.

I cannot accept most literature as either too difficult or inappropriate.  Isn’t that why we teach Language Arts—to show students how to manage texts that make them stretch?   To model ways to cope with ideas that raise questions in readers and thinkers?  To show readers how to apply to their lives the lessons learned?  To construct meaning that helps students understand the world of today? 

If students don’t stretch, they find reading boring, and so would we.  You’ve heard their words:  “I’m bored;” “Reading makes me sleepy;”  “I keep thinking of something else and then I lose my place and I hate to read and nobody can make me do it and when I’m forced all I can think about is my girlfriend and it doesn’t mean anything to me and I just like to play video games . . .” 

I want classroom literature that engenders readers—eager to be first at the teacher’s desk—saying:  “I can’t believe that happened . . .;”  “Just when I thought this book couldn’t POSSIBLY get any better, the author . . . ;”  “Is this a true story?”  “Can we just read today instead of learning?” 

I am willing to challenge the status quo.  I will never tell a student to stop reading any book.  I want this generation of students to see that there is literature they will like.  In the end, it was the rationale that made all the difference.  The book evaluation committee determined that the book was appropriate at the 10th grade level.  The superintendent agreed to abide by the committee’s decision.

One word of caution, though.  If you choose a book that can create this culture of readers—and there are books like that—prepare well. 

In advance!