Required Reading: 10 Books That Changed Librarian Martha Hickson’s Life

In Kim A. Snyder’s film, New Jersey librarian Martha Hickson becomes a central figure in the quest to protect children’s right to read and celebrate amid a growing conservative crackdown librarianIn this week’s release, Hixon and Fashion 10 books that made an indelible impact on her life. They range from nostalgic childhood favorites to beloved memoirs and insightful observations on how librarians like her are attacked simply for doing their job. See it all below.

harriet the spy Author: Louise Fitzhugh

Louise Fitzhugh’s 1964 story about 11-year-old New Yorker Harriet Welsch was a book I read over and over again as a child. Harriet is smart, funny, fiercely independent, and confidently follows her own drummer, giving me an imaginary friend to admire. Book banners have felt different over the years, trying to limit Harriet Because they claim the book teaches children to lie, talk back and curse. Labeling a character like Harriet as “unfit” tells young readers that they are also inappropriate. Instead, I heeded the advice of Harriet’s nanny, Ole Golly, “There are as many ways of living in the world as there are people, and each deserves careful study.”

my salinger years by Joanna Rakoff

The first time I read JD Salinger’s “Banned Frequently” Catcher in the Rye As a seventh grader. Holden Caulfield’s voice captivated me, and I spent my adolescence becoming a J.D. Salinger perfectionist. Joanna Rakoff’s memoir, which recounts her early twenties when she worked for the literary agency that represented Salinger, offers a behind-the-scenes glimpse into the publishing world that Salinger kept at arm’s length. Charged with protecting Salinger from the constant stream of fan mail he received—silencing readers in an ironic form of censorship—Rakoff grew to love both the reclusive writer and his wounded reporter. Her memoir captures that time in her life, with one foot out of adolescence and the other as she experimented with identities and careers as an adult, struggling to settle into a stable purchase. I loved this book, which looked back with grace on the challenges of finding your way.

All the light we can’t see Author: Anthony Doerr

All the light we can’t see

As a librarian, I’m often asked, “What is your favorite book?” I’ve struggled with the answer for years. There are simply too many. Then came Anthony Doerr’s 2015 Pulitzer Prize-winning historical novel about a French girl and a German boy caught up in the violence of World War II Europe. As the novel unfolds, their individual stories converge into a dramatic struggle for survival. Engaging characters drive an intricate plot in a war-torn environment, delivering a powerful message: “Open your eyes and see what you can do with them before they close forever.” All the light we can’t see A reminder that in a world where information is controlled, access to ideas becomes an act of courage. I envy everyone reading this book for the first time.

happy house Alison Bechdel

In this comic book-style memoir, Alison Bechdel examines the question again and again: What if? What if her father hadn’t been killed? What if nothing inappropriate happened to him? What if he could be open about his homosexuality? Bechdel grew up in a small town in Pennsylvania with a strained relationship with her estranged, secretive father, Bruce. When college student Allison writes a letter home revealing that she is a lesbian and her mother tells Allison that Bruce is also gay, Allison begins to examine the many attempts she has made to connect with him. Starting from 2019, I successfully defended my title happy house Banned from my high school library twice in three years. The book’s banner calls it “pornographic.” I call it a modern masterpiece and it made me an activist for intellectual freedom.

the great ambersons Author: Booth Tarkington

the great ambersons

Winner of the Pulitzer Prize in 1919, Booth Tarkington’s work uses stylish writing, memorable characters, and a fast-paced plot to chart the collapse of a family dynasty stalled by the advent of automobile technology. More than a hundred years after the book was published, its themes remain timeless: class struggle, the allure of technology, the cost of progress, and the power of love over the blind and the bound. While criticism of capitalism is a common hot spot for book banners, they leveled this accusation at Octavia Butler’s book Parable of the Sower and Barbara Ehrenreich’s Nickels and coinsthey haven’t noticed this classic yet. On the other hand, Orson Welles’ 1942 film adaptation is one of the most famous examples of studio censorship. RKO edited more than 40 minutes of Welles’ footage and grafted on a happy ending, creating a product that Welles described as “the product of a chaotic and often semi-hysterical committee.”

Bird after bird by Anne Lamott

If you see Anne Lamott’s name on a book, read it. She is a thoughtful and humorous writer. exist Bird after birdIn the book, she reveals her writing strategies and techniques, and much of the book talks about fear: fear of being judged, fear of punishment, fear of offending, fear of going “too far.” Today, this form of self-censorship is even more possible, with book banners hanging on every library shelf. Rather than succumbing to anxiety, Lamott taps into her inner critic to hone her craft and serve her readers: “When writers make us shake our heads with the accuracy of their prose and truth, or even make us laugh at ourselves or life, our joy is restored. We have the opportunity to dance with the absurdity of life, or at least applaud along with it, instead of being crushed by it again and again.”

why fish don’t exist by Lulu Miller

Lulu Miller’s category-defying book is ostensibly a biography of David Starr Jordan, the 19th-century taxonomist and founding president of Stanford University. But there’s more going on beneath the surface, including a murder mystery, a shift in science, and an ongoing meditation on the meaning of life. Digging deeper is the point. Give up your certainties; question what you think you know. Later in the book, Miller explains what she calls the “dandelion principle,” a way of looking at nature by recognizing its incomprehensible complexity: “To some people, a dandelion may look like a weed, but to others the same plant can mean more. To the herbalist, it’s a medicine… to the painter, it’s a paint… to the butterfly, it’s food.” The same complexity holds true for books bent on prohibition.

A tree grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith

I grew up watching Betty Smith’s 1943 classic and caught a glimpse of the 1945 film adaptation on the TV series Million Dollar Movie. I added this book to my mental “must read” list, where it sat dormant for decades until 2021, when the pandemic gave me the gift of time. Reading it again nearly 80 years after its publication, I was struck by the continued relevance of this book, which tells the story of a young girl growing up in a Brooklyn apartment community filled with Irish, Austrian, Italian, and Jewish immigrants at the turn of the 20th century. Smith’s candid account of their struggles with poverty, alcoholism, violence, and unwanted pregnancies landed the book on banned books lists several times over the years, despite—or perhaps because of—its emphasis on education as a path to the American dream, as Smith writes, “Oh, that magical moment when a child first learns she can read the printed word… From that moment on, the world is hers to read.”

I want to apologize to every teacher I ever had Tony Danza

I want to apologize to every teacher I ever had

Actor Tony Danza’s memoir of his year teaching 10th-grade English at Philadelphia’s Northeast High School tells the story of each new teacher’s bouts of self-doubt, tears and celebration of small successes. As he guides inner-city teens through often-forbidden classics, he understands the importance of representation to kill a mockingbird and of mice and menIn “Danza,” Danza is shown to be incredibly tender, always on the verge of crying, either over a frustrating class gaffe, an emotional exchange with a student, or an embarrassing reprimand from an administrator. My own tears fell at two words: “Our Atticus,” a tribute paid by Danza students on their last day of school. Teachers, veterans and novices alike, and anyone willing to take a peek into the faculty lounge should embrace Danza’s Apologize.

They came for the school Author: Mike Hisenbaugh

They came for the school

To learn about the current situation in the United States where librarians are threatened with arrest simply for doing their jobs, read Mike Hixenbaugh’s reporting from the frontline in Southlake, Texas. Beginning in 2018, Christian nationalists in this wealthy town orchestrated a backlash against diversity, critical race theory, and anything they considered “woke” or “leftist.” The conservative coup in Southlake became the playbook for the so-called “parents’ rights” movement that later spread across the country, politicizing school boards with the goal of imposing “traditional” Christian values ​​in classrooms and libraries. Part Salem Witch Trials, part Civil War, it’s pretty horrific.