Michelle L. Smith - The Ebony Quill, LLC

When I see reports about efforts to ban books from our public and school libraries, it hearkens back to the time when I realized that much of my middle grade and high school American History lessons were misrepresented. More recently, I learned of an effort by the Archivist of the National Archives Museum to replace certain planned exhibits that reference untoward acts committed against historically disenfranchised communities with exhibits omitting such depictions.

An article in the Wall Street Journal reported last fall that the Archivist and her top advisors "have sought to de-emphasize negative parts of U.S. history." While she strongly disagreed with the Journal's perspective in an official statement last October, the exhibits she plans to remove represent Civil Rights icons, Native Americans, and Japanese-American incarceration camps, which she intends to replace with the likes of the disgraced former president Richard Nixon.

When a parent complains about what they perceive as inappropriate content in a book, the removal of that book from libraries dictates its appropriateness for everyone else's children. Over the last several years, banned books have skewed heavily toward those written by authors of color or those that depict historically marginalized populations. How would that same parent handle a brown-skinned mother's request to remove a long-favored fairytale from the school library because she disagrees, for example, with its inaccurate representation of indigenous people; or because the heroes and heroines are exclusively white-skinned, blue-eyed blonds, and the foes all have dark skin—representations this parent might interpret as hostile to her child's sense of self-worth?

These efforts to "sanitize" student readings is geared toward eliminating the possibility some children and/or their parents might be uncomfortable with them. If a parent finds a particular book offensive, they and their child have the right not to read it. But why should a personal decision be forced upon others who may not agree?

In 1933 under Nazi Germany, an infamous public book burning took place as a radical display of censorship and intolerance. Blacklisted works by literary and political figures, including Ernest Hemingway, were targeted for the flames. After the destruction of these books, the Nazi regime raided libraries, bookstores, and publishers' warehouses to destroy other works it deemed un-German (cited from Holocaust Encyclopedia, U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum).

Because the veracity of science is increasingly questioned these days, preservation of truth and science-based facts remains paramount. As disinformation spreads falsehoods in alarming and detrimental fashion, we must remain vigilant and discerning of what we consume from social and television media. We must be wary of those who would stifle our attempts to impart knowledge that discounts such disinformation.

In fiction writing, it's rather ordinary to make stuff up. Fantasy and magical realism are popular among readers, and some writers claim both fiction and non-fiction as their genres. Surrealism may be juxtaposed or conflated with realism. In the end, no matter your genre, protagonist, or writing style, the goal is to impart information to a receptive audience.

Thankfully, we still retain the protection of our First Amendment right. However, some political leaders have made attempts to squelch that right when it comes to accurate representation of historical facts that are sometimes unpleasant at best. For example, they'd rather we not know the truly treacherous nature of the enslavement of African Americans.

Suppression of knowledge by elected officials is antithetical to our Constitution's First Amendment. Surely, none of us wants to revisit an era where free thought and expression of ideas is inappropriately suppressed for any reason, let alone political ones. Going down that rabbit hole is not likely to generate an ending wherein all parties live "happily ever after."