When Parents' Rights Are Wrong

What would you do if your High School counselor said a parent had insisted that his child be prohibited from checking out certain school library books? Would you consent to restricting the student's access to information on a particular topic? I know some librarians would. But I wouldn't. My rationale falls into three categories—the practical, ethical, and developmental.

From a practical standpoint, keeping track of student restrictions is impossible. I've worked in small schools and in large ones, with enrollments ranging from 300 students to 1,800. In both instances, there were only a few times that I knew a student's reading preferences well enough to recommend titles. But there's no way I could do that for most kids. Similarly, there's no way I would remember parental restrictions for all of the kids, or even a modest portion of them. I suppose I could ask each student to specify the types of books his parents wanted off-limits, but I doubt I'd get an honest answer from most high school students.

Further complicating the issue, most high school libraries have student assistants who perform most of the basic circulation tasks. If I didn't have student assistants, I'd be tied to the circulation desk, unable to assist students and teachers with their research assignments or help them find a good book to read. Ethically, student assistants don't have a right to know what restrictions have been placed on their schoolmates. Realistically, student assistants can't remember specific restrictions any better than I can. Even placing reminder notes in your library's circulation system—if that's possible—won't ensure that a student assistant will pay attention to them, especially if he's rushing to check out books for a line of impatient students at the end of a period.

Even if such reading restrictions were enforceable, designating certain books off-limits doesn't guarantee that determined students won't get their hands on them. Friends can check out the forbidden books for them; they can browse the books in the library; they can find books on the topic at a public library or bookstore, or even more easily on the Internet. If a particular subject truly interests a student, she will somehow get the information—making the topic off-limits just increases the attraction.

Restricting students' access to information also violates the ethics of our profession. Both the American Library Association's "Code of Ethics" and the American Association of School Librarians' (AASL) "Access to Resources and Services in the School Library Media Program: An Interpretation of the Library Bill of Rights" speak directly to this issue. The Code of Ethics states: "We uphold the principles of intellectual freedom and resist all efforts to censor library resources." AASL's position is: "School library media professionals assume a leadership role in promoting the principles of intellectual freedom within the school by providing resources and services that create and sustain an atmosphere of free inquiry."

Developmentally, the overriding goal of adolescents is to become independent individuals. They need to explore diverse ideas and values. Reading is arguably one of the safer methods to accomplish this exploration, enabling students to experience vicariously what might prove dangerous in the real world. For example, I would rather have a student read Go Ask Alice, a novel that deals with drug addiction, than have him experiment with drugs. Parents who are compelled to control every aspect of their children's lives, including what they read, severely hinder their development.

Any one of the reasons I've mentioned would be enough for me to resist attempts to restrict what my students are allowed to read. Collectively, these reasons present a formidable defense of the intellectual freedom so necessary to a democratic society. And so I continue to fight for students' unfettered access to information.