This Just In! Reading Has Opinions, and So Do You!
By: Haley Palmer
From banned books to censorship to language, literature isn’t neutral, and neither are you.
The History of Reading and Literacy
When a lot of us think about reading, we think about one of our favorite hobbies, enjoyed with a cup of coffee or tea, cuddled up under a blanket, or basking in the sunshine on a warm summer day: Exploring new worlds and pushing our imaginations until it feels like our tether to reality is about to snap. But reading is far more than just a hobby, and that’s what I aim to explore.
When were you able to learn how to read? How to write? When was the first time you saw yourself in the pages of the books you were reading? I ask these questions because, throughout history, reading has always been a tool—–to gain knowledge, or the inverse, a way to keep knowledge from certain communities. If we start by thinking about women and literature, it wasn’t even that long ago when women were writing under pen names in order to get published. Louisa May Alcott was A. M. Barnard, Mary Ann Evans as George Eliot. Even the Brontë sisters published their works under pseudonyms: Charlotte as Currer, Anne as Acton, and Emily as Ellis, adopting the last name Bell. It’s the action of the age-old saying, “If you can’t beat them, join them.” But in this case, joining them meant conforming to a patriarchal system built on top of anybody that wasn’t a white man, with arbitrary rules and customs being utilized as a way to keep the white man on top and everyone else on the bottom.
When we look at the anti-literacy laws in America throughout many slave states before the American Civil War, enslaved people, freedmen, and in some cases, all people of color, were not allowed to learn how to read and write. And if you go further, up until 1869, only white students could attend public schools in states like Indiana and Illinois. So then the question becomes, why? Why keep the act of reading and writing from specific groups of people? Once you crack that one, it becomes crystal clear that reading is inherently political. James H. Hammond, an American attorney, politician and plantation owner, wrote in a letter to Thomas Clarkson in 1845:
“I can tell you. It was the abolition agitation. If the slave is not allowed to read his bible, the sin rests upon the abolitionists; for they stand prepared to furnish him with a key to it, which would make it, not a book of hope, and love, and peace, but of despair, hatred and blood; which would convert the reader, not into a Christian, but a demon…Allow our slaves to read your writings, stimulating them to cut our throats! Can you believe us to be such unspeakable fools?”
It is this quote alone that shows the twist of history, shaping the revolt of slaves spurred by learning to read the Bible to be a terrible thing, not that the terrible thing was already being done to them. It was the threat of learning the sins of the white man that instilled fear, that put blame on abolitionists for teaching slaves how to read and write. It was not for the well-being of slaves that this skill was kept from them but rather for the evil of slavery to persist.
Let’s Talk About Banned Books
When reading is the sole path to education and recognizing oppression, it becomes clear why literacy is strategically denied to certain groups. Even though we have come a long way, there are still instances when reading, books, and literature are kept from students and the public. It might not be as obvious as it once was, but it is there. That obliviousness and surface level understanding is what feeds the fire to an already strong flame. Even now, when education is more accessible than ever, the country is being threatened with bookbans across libraries and schools. “Between January 1st and August 31st, 2024, ALA’s Office for Intellectual Freedom tracked 414 attempts to censor library materials and services. In those cases, 1,128 unique titles were challenged” (American Library Association). Book bans are facilitated by school boards, political administrations, and even politicians, the latter making books political. If we look at what type of books are being banned or challenged, it shows that “book bans continue to target books featuring LGBTQ+ themes or LGBTQ+ characters, characters of color, and books on race and racism…38% cover topics on health and wellbeing for students…30% include characters of color or discuss race and racism…26% present LGBTQ+ characters or themes…17% of books mention teen pregnancy, abortion, or sexual assault.”
Look at what is being banned across America. These are the stories that platform the representation people look for in the world. Banning books discussing sexual orientation, race, abortion, sexual assault—the list goes on—is pushing society to exist in one way: the “traditional” way. This practice withholds accepting and uplifting other communities that fall outside of the white male archetype that our country was founded on.
The relationship between censorship and race has always been blatantly present in our history. “Throughout the history of public libraries, censorship stemming from racial or ethnic background has been present. This censorship has come in various forms, including segregated library branches in the first part of the twentieth century.”
There are so many layers to this, that we also have to think about the publishing industry, and which books get picked up more than others.
This is Why Reading is Political
It’s easy to think of reading as just being the words printed on a page for our enjoyment, but even distancing ourselves from the business of publishing is a privileged stance. We have to think about the how: how does someone get published? The why: why do certain books get picked up over others? The who: who is getting published, and who is reading the manuscript? The what: what is working against those who aren’t getting published? You can’t have literature without publishing, and separating the two is what halts conversation and change. It is a white man’s world, meaning what is “popular” is determined by those same people. No one enjoys confronting their own biases, by inherent racism, by intolerance for marginalized communities, so why would they want to publish books about it? And if the books somehow reach publication, censorship and banning become the final weapons in the silence and erasure of voices.
These are the forces that transform reading into a political act that orchestrates control over the written word. It is why people get uncomfortable when asked why they don’t read more BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) authors. “I just don’t feel represented in those stories.” “I can’t relate to the main character.” “It’s not my cup of tea.” We need to step outside of our box, and we need to become more empathetic and understanding of what it is like to live in a world that is not made for us. We need to understand that when society begins to take away rights, to censor people, to punish peaceful protestors, everything becomes political because we have become silenced.
And we also have to think of the implications coming from the author. Authors might not always know and see their own biases coming through their work, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Someone who has never experienced something such as racism, sexism, or homophobia will not understand how something they wrote is outwardly showing those biases.
How can reading not be political when your existence is political? If you’re a woman, a person of color, a part of the LGBTQ+ community, if you’ve ever had to be the subject of an amendment in the Constitution or a law being passed, your existence is political.
I’m Political, You’re Political, We’re Political
When I truly started to understand what it meant to be Palestinian, a lot of this was put into perspective for me. Every single day in the media I see headlines like “Palestinian Man Under 18,” never child. I knew my existence was political when I was afraid to share where I was really from. As a white-passing woman, I understand the privilege I have that comes with that: knowing I can walk down the street without anyone really knowing my roots. But at the same time, I don’t want to be afraid to celebrate that side of me, and show the world just how beautiful it is. Growing up in a world that sees you as less and other makes it very easy to spot when others do not feel that way, especially in books. Oftentimes, I like to play a game where I replace the white character with someone that represents who I am, and I realize how different the story would have gone; it might not have gotten published at all.
I was reading an Advanced Reader Copy (ARC) recently of A Witch’s Guide to Magical Innkeeping by Sangu Mandanna, and there was a side character with Palestinian roots. I had never had an experience like that from reading before. I didn’t know it was going to be in there, and when I saw those words on the page, from an author I love, I really was about to cry. That is how much representation matters. We have so much white representation, it’s not a bad thing to ask for others to have a turn. I felt heard and seen and appreciated and human.
I think having such a visceral reaction to something like that is another sign of how political reading is. If Palestinians weren’t being villainized in the media, if we weren’t being framed in a certain light, if we weren’t being used to further a political agenda, then I don’t think I would feel this way. But if we break down language, and the framing of sentences, and the structure of articles, it becomes easy to understand the propagandization of literature. And it becomes easy to notice that pattern not just in news stories, but in books that are on our own shelves. The Arab man in the book is a terrorist and the white woman is the savior, for example. But you need to be able to read those books with the understanding that the white woman killed his whole family for land and not with the skeletal framework of someone trying to eliminate the enemy who responded to her aggressions. Language is the most powerful tool we have to shape how someone understands something. Putting “Bright Future” before a white crime of murder, school shootings, or terrorism. Saying “Civilian” versus “Children.” When you start to understand the foundation of language, reading becomes a whole new experience.
There is also the flip side of people not wanting reading to be political, to just detach from the world and have a good time without worrying about what’s going on in their personal lives. But that is still a privileged position. Not everything you read will be political, but the act of reading itself is. Not understanding that is a privileged position to have. The word ‘privileged’ is scary, especially when aimed at yourself. But it just means that there is always more to learn, and that there’s always room to grow.