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I suspect this hawk has never once felt the nag of the question, “What can I do?” Not about the climate crisis. Perhaps not about anything. What to do is something other animals seem to know innately and intimately, or perhaps don't need to know at all.
I live in the very heart of Atlanta, Georgia, affectionately called the "city in a forest." From my desk, where I work most days, I look out onto a stand of trees. Right at canopy height, it is the perfect view for getting distracted, especially by our resident red-tailed hawk, who is strikingly visible in the loose thatching of bare winter limbs.
Sudden squirrel scatter, and she alights on the branch of a maple tree to scan for potential prey. Her fleet perch and keen watch, her grandeur of feather and hunt—it breaks through the primacy of my screen and shakes me from the fathomless digital world. Interruption gladly received.
Each time the hawk stops through these trees, I am struck by the sudden proximity of a taloned huntress to me, encased in my condo-version of captivity. More than once, I have grabbed my phone to quickly frame the hawk and catch ill-focused evidence that I too am alert and alive. Enraptured by a raptor, I have "Slacked" the flattened scene to my colleagues: “Afternoon visitor!” With a feather and a heart emoji afterword. (As if icons in miniature could limn her.)
But I am struck by another proximity, too, between what the hawk does and who the hawk seems to be. Her doingness and her beingness are so close as to become one.
What might open up for us if we shift the question ever so slightly—from What can I do? to Who can I be? Or, Who am I already?
I suspect this hawk has never once felt the nag of the question, “What can I do?” Not about the climate crisis. Perhaps not about anything. What to do is something other animals seem to know innately and intimately, or perhaps don't need to know at all.
Evolution has made things more complicated for us Homo sapiens, who ponder and puzzle. As essayist and author Margaret Renkl writes, "Every living thing—every bird and mammal and reptile and amphibian, every tree and shrub and flower and moss—is pursuing its own vital purpose, a purpose that sets my human concerns in a larger context." As I watch the hawk's wings lift and lower and propel her back into the air, I marvel and muse whether life itself might offer another way in.
What might open up for us if we shift the question ever so slightly—from What can I do? to Who can I be? Or, Who am I already?
The hawk, like all of us existing on this planet, is an inheritor of a 3.8-billion-year history: From single-celled organisms to plants and vertebrates, life has continued to move forward toward more life, overcoming unthinkable odds. Weighty and unwavering and in so many ways impenetrable—this dynamic defines Earth as a living planet. When we think about a hive of honeybees gathering their ingredients from flowers, or black corals siphoning plankton over centuries, or the sudden emergence of mushrooms from a shrouded fungal network, we can see this dynamic in action. Even kudzu offers testimony with its rampant return, however unwelcome, each spring.
Who can we be? One thing we already are: an expression of Earth's life force, right here, right now, made possible by a series of miracles that have blossomed over eons. This is true simply by virtue of breathing.
Life force unfurls through each of us in such beautifully different ways. We explore the unknown and document our discoveries. We design new things and give them form. We expose what's ruptured and source the means to mend it. We reflect, wonder, and imagine. We craft stories and art and shows. We make ritual. We convene people and foster conversation and collaboration. We care for one another. We strategize, organize, and orchestrate. We engineer and implement. We manage the details. We show up, stand up, and speak up. We share wisdom and tell jokes. We cook and sing and clean and plant and build and nap. And all of that is just the briefest inventory of human beings' doings.
There are things we do that are so wholly connected with who we are—that spring up from within us in such an organic way—that the space between our doing and our being shrinks or even vanishes. In those moments, our small expression of the vast life force we've inherited and embody is especially effervescent. We may find ourselves buzzing, flowing, or sensing a particular warmth. We may be especially porous and focused both.
It is a radical act to believe in our ability to thrive, both individually and as a planet, by being who we are.
I imagine this is how the hawk might feel as she swoops into the circle of life. It's how I wish many more of us to feel as we take wing to heal the climate crisis.
In Climate Wayfinding, we think of the ways we each express life force as our unique talents, gifts, or superpowers—all of which are so very needed in this era of change. Two lenses help illuminate them: authentic power and deep joy.
Authentic power is something that rises up from within us—internal and genuine, not gained at others' expense or expended upon them. It's a feeling of ability, capacity, strength, weight, energy, vigor. It aligns what swells within us with how we move in the world.
Deep joy is a feeling of great pleasure, happiness, delight, exhilaration, radiance, bliss. It, too, rises from within and spills out, intermingling with the world around us. It is often the emotional glow of meaning or connection. Joy may also feel out of place in the face of the climate crisis. Who are we to taste joy when so much is hurting? But joy is all the more necessary, and all the more holy, in difficult times.
As Dr. Robin Wall Kimmerer writes in Braiding Sweetgrass: "Even a wounded world is feeding us. Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the Earth gives me daily and I must return the gift."
In my own experience, moving at the nexus of authentic power and deep joy might be our closest approximation to life force itself. When I have strayed far into zones of not-power and not-joy—most often for employment or another hard-tugging should—I have found myself in struggle, disconnection, and even depression. Stubborn is the soul, intent on a space where it belongs.
It is a radical act to believe in our ability to thrive, both individually and as a planet, by being who we are. I mean radical in the fullest sense: from the root, fundamental, and far-reaching. A person anchored and aglow—that is the kind of revolutionary that's called for in this time.
Looking inward to shape our outward contributions—this, I think, is a form of courage. When we refuse to lose touch with our sources of authentic power and deep joy, and when we dare to center them somehow in our lives, we reach toward calling. Whether loudly or in a whisper, these things summon us, insisting that our lives can be alive—sprouting and blooming, swooping and flying high—and that we can be part of making it so.
Just now, the red-tailed hawk draws my eye. It's a beautiful, bewitching thing to behold a being in the fullness of herself. But I realize, watching her in motion, that I am rapt by more than the solitary bird. At the edges of the self, there is a zone, almost an aura, of arising. We find there, at the periphery, a space populated by all that is emergent with, and only with, the world around us.
For the hawk, that emergent edge exists in the remarkable everyday interplay of hunger and wing and wind. And perhaps it is so for all of us, along our own edges, as we muster skill and strength for a planet in want, in wish.
Perhaps you, too, can feel the vibration at the eager verge of doingness and beingness and the wide, long, insistent breath of life.
This piece was adapted from Climate Wayfinding: Healing Ourselves and the Planet We Call Home by Katharine K. Wilkinson (Andrews McMeel, 2026). Used with permission of the publisher. Do not republish.
White’s literary legacy is rooted in empathy, care, and the affirmation of life; the bureaucratic appropriation of his title stands in stark, almost satirical contrast to the world he sought to illuminate.
Growing up, there were a few books that left an indelible mark on me. Charlotte’s Web was one of them. Tolerance. Embracing those who are different. Overcoming fears. Seeing miracles in the ordinary. Having faith in the goodness of our neighbors. Love.
So when I saw that a federal immigration sweep in Charlotte, North Carolina had been named Charlotte’s Web, I felt a sharp, immediate repulsion. They were being clever—but how many of them had actually read the book? How different this country might be if more people absorbed its lessons: that protecting the vulnerable is an act of courage, not political theater.
Elwyn Brooks White (July 11, 1899-October 1, 1985) was an American writer whose work has endured across generations. He authored beloved children’s books, including Stuart Little (1945), Charlotte’s Web (1952), and The Trumpet of the Swan (1970). In a 2012 survey of School Library Journal readers, Charlotte’s Web ranked first among the top 100 children’s novels. Beyond children’s literature, White contributed to The New Yorker and co-authored The Elements of Style, the iconic English-language style guide. Kurt Vonnegut described him as “one of the most admirable prose stylists our country has so far produced.”
It is in this context—of a writer celebrated for clarity, humanity, and moral vision—that the repurposing of Charlotte’s Web for a mass immigration raid becomes especially jarring. White’s literary legacy is rooted in empathy, care, and the affirmation of life; the bureaucratic appropriation of his title stands in stark, almost satirical contrast to the world he sought to illuminate.
Charlotte herself, the real Charlotte, not the bureaucratic parody, spins her web to protect, not punish. She acts out of friendship, not force.
On a quiet Saturday in Charlotte, 81 people were arrested in roughly five hours as federal agents conducted a phase of the Trump administration’s nationwide immigration crackdown. Officers swept neighborhoods near churches and apartment complexes. Streets were unusually empty, businesses shuttered, and families stayed home, unsure whether their neighbors, or the law, could be trusted.
Gregory Bovino, the North Carolina-born Border Patrol commander leading “Operation Charlotte’s Web,” posted on X a quotation from the story’s ending, when Charlotte’s children float away on the wind:
Wherever the wind takes us. High, low. Near, far. East, west. North, south. We take to the breeze, we go as we please.
The irony is almost literary. In White’s story, the line is a meditation on freedom, impermanence, and the continuity of life, Charlotte’s children carried safely into a larger world after she has saved the pig. In Bovino’s hands, it frames a mass roundup, turning human beings into objects carried off by a bureaucratic breeze.
White himself described the inspiration behind Charlotte’s Web:
The theme of Charlotte’s Web is that a pig shall be saved, and I have an idea that somewhere deep inside me there was a wish to that effect.
Martha White, who manages her grandfather’s literary estate, made clear that his ethos could not be more distant from these raids. E.B. White “certainly didn’t believe in masked men, in unmarked cars, raiding people’s homes and workplaces without IDs or summons,” she told CNN, adding, “He didn’t condone fearmongering.” He believed in due process, in the rule of law, and in the basic dignity of life.
The spectacle of the Charlotte operation extended to social media, where detainees’ faces and alleged criminal histories were posted as proof of public safety. Here, White’s words carry a sting:
Trust me, Wilbur. People are very gullible. They'll believe anything they see in print.
Activists handed out whistles to warn neighbors of Immigration and Customs Enforcement presence. Community members skipped work, school, and medical appointments. One dental clinic alone reported nine cancellations.
“Latinos love this country. They came here to escape socialism and communism, and they’re hard workers and people of faith,” said Paola Garcia, spokesperson for Camino, a nonprofit serving Charlotte’s Latino community. “They love their family, and it’s just so sad to see that this community now has this target on their back.”
Nikki Marín Baena, co-director of immigrant advocacy group Siembra NC, called the operation “a shameful day for the North Carolina Republican Party,” noting the celebration of what she described as “terrorist operations” and the recycling of Bovino’s rhetoric about “going after criminals.”
Before Saturday, the largest number of immigrant arrests in a single day in North Carolina was 30. Eighty-one in five hours—nearly triple the previous record, underscores the unprecedented scale of federal enforcement in a city already trembling with fear.
White wrote:
All that I hope to say in books, all that I ever hope to say, is that I love the world.
And Charlotte herself, the real Charlotte, not the bureaucratic parody, spins her web to protect, not punish. She acts out of friendship, not force:
You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you… By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone’s life can stand a little of that.
The contrast is stark. Charlotte’s web lifts; the raids constrict. The story teaches mercy; the sweep instills fear. Charlotte’s purpose is care; the operation’s purpose is spectacle. As White noted elsewhere:
One of the most time-consuming things is to have an enemy.
Here, millions of hours of planning, messaging, and social-media framing were devoted to constructing enemies, while the human cost, fear, disruption, and trauma, remained largely invisible.
White’s fascination with animals and mortality lent his work an “eerie quality,” and he often described books themselves as “sneezes,” unexpected, uncontainable eruptions of human empathy. In Charlotte, North Carolina, this real-life web demonstrates the inverse: a calculated, coldly measured maneuver, a bureaucratic sneeze that spreads fear instead of care:
The world is full of talkers, but it is rare to find anyone who listens. And I assure you that you can pick up more information when you are listening than when you are talking.
The authorities talked. They posted. They broadcast. But they did not listen. Families stayed home. Children missed school. Communities watched one another with suspicion. Safety, in the administration’s terms, was achieved only at the expense of freedom. And yet, White reminds us:
Safety is all well and good: I prefer freedom.
This is Charlotte’s enduring lesson: the value of life, the importance of compassion, the courage to act out of love. Freedom, dignity, and human connection cannot be suspended at the altar of political performance. The people caught in this web may be removed, but their absence leaves a void that no number of arrests can fill.
Charlotte’s web, whether in a children’s book or in our daily lives, asks us to choose differently. To see, to listen, to protect. To be, as White’s story quietly insists, the kind of neighbor, and the kind of nation, that spins webs of care instead of cages.
We should commit ourselves to becoming students of struggle because there is so much to be gained not simply from action, but from deliberative, informed, and educated action.
Now that No Kings Day October 2025 has come and gone, what should we do with all our energy?
The carnivalesque atmosphere of protest across the nation on Saturday fed a hunger for political community and solidarity in the face of the relentless assault on our basic democratic rights that has been raging since the start of this year.
The signage alone—from cats kicking crowns to “We in Danger, Girl: Resist”—called us to move from words to action. Now.
Act we should.
For there is plenty to do.
Histories of anti-authoritarian struggle are an indispensable storehouse of knowledge for the days and weeks after the protest is over.
Join the American Civil Liberties Union. Work to support anti-Trump candidates in the 2026 midterms. Write your elected representatives, including judges, to let them know you support their efforts to defend the Constitution. And find out what the local organizers of your No Kings Day have planned next.
We should do all these things.
But we should also read. And study. And debate. And learn.
I’m not kidding.
We should commit ourselves to becoming students of struggle because there is so much to be gained not simply from action, but from deliberative, informed, and educated action.
And history, especially Black history, is a crucial resource in this struggle.
Consider Augustus Wood’s recent book, Class Warfare in Black Atlanta, which maps the ways that working-class African American men and women fought the neoliberal takeover of Atlanta from the 1970s onwards, pushing against both white and Black elites seeking to bulldoze their communities in the name of economic development and “progress.”
Get to know the stories of Phyllis Whatley and Eva Davis, Black working women who built “overlapping” movements across space, housing, and labor to beat back Atlanta’s takeover by urban power brokers. We have so much to learn from their courage and their strategies.
If a scholarly book like Wood’s is too much to pick up, go to your local library and find a novel which fictionalizes key moments and movements in anti-democratic history. Try Colson Whitehead’s Pulitzer prizewinning The Underground Railroad. Or check out John Lewis’ memoir, Walking With the Wind.
Or if fiction doesn’t appeal, follow a short form like an op-ed. Top of that list right now is Bobby J. Smith’s piece, “Chicago Restaurants Using Civil Rights-Era Playbook to Fight ICE,” which reminds us how prescient, and present, the tactics of the recent past are.
And if reading per se isn’t the way you want to access lessons on how ordinary people fight the power of the state and its legal and carceral systems, check out the website of the MAMAs project, which documents in word and image how the mothers of unjustly incarcerated sons have developed powerful pedagogies over a decade-long struggle for the freedom of their kids.
History comes in many forms and formats. So, as the 1967 Jefferson Airplane song “White Rabbit” exhorts us, “feed your head.” By whatever means possible.
Because after we put away the No Kings signs for now, we need recourse to concrete examples of how to counter government-sponsored violence and fascist takeover—partly so we can be inspired by those who have come before, and partly so we can develop models based on past patterns and present strategies that we can put into action now.
It goes without saying, of course, that for many communities in the US and elsewhere, these struggles are not new. They are intensified, yes, but they build on micro- and macro-aggressions that have been rending the social and economic fabric for decades if not centuries.
It’s important to remember that wherever violence has happened and the state has exercised lethal power against citizens and other subjects, people have resisted. We have to know these histories.
Luckily, there is a deep and rich archive of protest movements that historians, professional and otherwise, have labored to assemble and preserve precisely to serve us in these times.
Which is exactly why the current regime is banning books, coming after courses and curricula which amplify these histories, and seeking to remake the story of the last 250 years in their own image.
They want to erase the history of survival and resistance which can and will be activated to challenge their arrogation of power—activated to resist the dismantling of democratic foundations and to protect anew those rights which have been hard won over the last two centuries.
Histories of anti-authoritarian struggle are an indispensable storehouse of knowledge for the days and weeks after the protest is over.
We need to study them, with the present in mind. So get out there and read up on the practical examples that Black history especially has to offer us as we seek not just solidarity, but usable forms and portable practices drawn from the work of those who came before us.
When we do so, we ourselves will be making histories available to those who come after us to learn from, to mobilize, and to improve on.
Feed your head, and the rest will follow.
Life isn’t preset. It’s an endless flow of God-knows-what, and it’s up to me—it’s up to all of us—to assign meaning, as best we can, to what’s going on.
Dig, ponder, dig some more.
A year ago I wrote a column about some of the early moments of my growing up—not just memories but profound moments of awareness; flickers, you might say, of becoming who I am. I was 77 at the time. Now I’m... oh yeah, 78. Can you believe it? Another year is almost over. Holiday season shimmers, the smell of pine is in the air. It’s Christmas: a perfect time to open, once again, the stocking known as memory.
In last year’s column, I wrote about three childhood moments that created me as a person—or informed me that I had changed, moved forward in the process of becoming. These were moments of self-awareness. Gosh! I had no idea such a thing existed, but there I was at age six, playing “Red Rover” on my elementary-school playground with a bunch of other kids and I realized: I was part of something bigger than myself; I wasn’t alone. Run and play, laugh and love! It’s called “community” (I later learned).
The interesting part, for me, as I write about it six-plus decades later, is to be able to feel the moment of becoming—to feel it as a new chunk of being, given to me almost as a Christmas present.
A second moment of becoming: I was 10 and had gotten into a fight after school—with a good pal. Huh? I rode my bike home, parked in the alley behind my house, and stood there rubbing my bruised elbow, aswirl in confusion. Fighting is so stupid! I decided I would never fight again—or rather, knew I would never fight again. I knew I had changed.
The third moment I wrote about was when I was 13. I had just seen a strange, disturbing movie with my mother and sister called Imitation of Life. We had car trouble on the way home and as we waited for the repair work to be finished, a puzzling awareness hit me, totally out of the blue. “I’m a genius,” I told myself—not with a smirk that I’m smarter than you are, but just the opposite. I was overwhelmed. Life isn’t preset. It’s an endless flow of God-knows-what, and it’s up to me—it’s up to all of us—to assign meaning, as best we can, to what’s going on. We’re all creating the future, moment by moment, whether we know it or not.
Yikes. This was far more responsibility than I was comfortable with, but I was stuck with it. I pushed on with growing up. These were all private moments, quietly “me” in a way that was no one else’s business. But some inner balloon (pardon the childish metaphor) was getting ready to burst. I had lousy penmanship, but I was turning into a writer, even though I hardly knew it. In fact, I got a “D” in English in eighth grade because I just couldn’t grasp the rules of grammar that were dumped on us out of the bag of marbles called education. What the heck is a participle? What’s an indirect object?
Attention, grade fanatics: We all learn at our own speed and in our own way. Two years later, in 10th grade, one of the books we were assigned to read was The Diary of Anne Frank. Birth of a writer! Well, sort of. I was riveted by her words, by the details of her life she bequeathed the world—and I felt a deep compulsion to start my own journal.
It literally took a year of trying. I’d buy a 39-cent notebook and start putting pieces of my life into words, usually prefaced with the warning: “Private. Do not read!” I felt compelled to pump up the importance of what I was saying, to write from the perspective that my life was significant. And the journal would never last more than a day or two. I could feel the phoniness in my words and would stash the notebook on a shelf, to be forgotten. But I kept trying! Something in me was determined to make this process work—solely for myself, of course. Turns out that may be the hardest audience of all to win over.
And then—I’m 16 at this point, in 11th grade—something happened: I was certain, I was terrified, that I had failed a solid geometry test one day. When I got home, I opened a notebook and scribbled the words: “God, I am worried. Scared to death is more like it.”
And the words simply flowed. I couldn’t stop. I went on for four pages, writing about the test, writing about how lousy I was doing in my English class, and then... yee-haw! I started writing about my “barren social life”: about the all the parties I hadn’t been invited to and my fear that I was a lousy dancer. I wasn’t “trying” to say anything; I was just letting it all out, spewing my feelings with unchecked honesty.
Two days later I wrote a second entry. Turns out I actually did OK on the math test, much to my amazement. And I was feeling good. I wrote about driving to a Junior Achievement meeting with some friends and singing a bunch of inappropriate songs on the way home. I even inserted the lyrics into the notebook. Something was happening: I wasn’t trying to churn out “good writing.” I was simply writing—giving words to my emotions and bringing them to life. I was finding, as I put it many years later, my voice.
And yeah, this is what growing up is all about. There’s nothing special or unique about any of this—it’s just a smattering of specificity. The interesting part, for me, as I write about it six-plus decades later, is to be able to feel the moment of becoming—to feel it as a new chunk of being, given to me almost as a Christmas present, not by Santa but by Anne Frank... and so many others: my parents, of course. My friends. My teachers.
Indeed, I must take a moment to honor Mom and Dad. They gave me life, home, family—and something more: the permission, you might say, to go my own direction. This was not easy for them, especially for my mother, who was a devout Lutheran, who had to watch her son break from the church and head off in his own spiritual direction.
Among the books I read in high school, three of them had a serious impact on my becoming: The Age of Reason by Thomas Paine, 1984 by George Orwell and Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Their words were rocks for me to grab as I climbed the mountain of my emerging life. At one point, as I was writing in my journal, I made the declaration that I was a non-conformist. And one of the final tasks I had to fulfill before I graduated was to write my senior paper: a big-deal assignment. The topic could be of my choosing, but I had to quote a number of recognized authors. I chose the above trio. The paper was called “Is a Man’s Mind His Own?”
Yes, I wrote, it is.
I had sort of known this all along, though without necessarily even wanting it to be the case, except, as a boy, having the right to misbehave. But this was a serious step beyond boyhood. It was my first real step into the public domain. Uh oh. Now what?
"The court has safeguarded the right of every Arkansan to access ideas and information without fear of censorship or prosecution," said the ACLU of Arkansas legal director.
In a blow to right-wing efforts to ban books and criminalize librarians, a federal judge on Monday struck down key provisions of an Arkansas law as unconstitutional—though the fight is far from over, with the Republican state attorney general planning to appeal.
Republican Gov. Sarah Huckabee Sanders signed Act 372 in March 2023. A few months later, U.S. District Judge Timothy Brooks temporarily blocked implementation of Sections 1 and 5 of the law—and on Monday, he ruled against them in a 37-page order.
Section 1 threatened Arkansas librarians and booksellers with up to a year in jail for providing minors with access to "harmful" materials. Brooks wrote that "if the General Assembly's purpose in passing Section 1 was to protect younger minors from accessing inappropriate sexual content in libraries and bookstores, the law will only achieve that end at the expense of everyone else's First Amendment rights."
"The law deputizes librarians and booksellers as the agents of censorship; when motivated by the fear of jail time, it is likely they will shelve only books fit for young children and segregate or discard the rest. For these reasons, Section 1 is unconstitutionally overbroad," added the judge, who also found the provision "unconstitutionally vague."
Section 5 created a process for challenging books in public libraries that critics called burdensome. Brooks found the provision unconstitutional because it is problematically vague and "unnecessarily imposes content-based restrictions on protected speech."
The state's Republican leaders plan to keep pushing for the law. Arkansas Attorney General Tim Griffin said in a statement to The Associated Press that "I respect the court's ruling and will appeal," and Huckabee Sanders vowed to work with him on that effort.
"This victory over totalitarianism is a testament to the courage of librarians, booksellers, and readers who refused to bow to intimidation."
Meanwhile, the broad coalition that took on Act 372—including booksellers, librarians, patrons, and professional associations—celebrated their latest legal victory, which comes as right-wing policymakers in other states work to force through similar policies.
"This was an attempt to 'thought police,' and this victory over totalitarianism is a testament to the courage of librarians, booksellers, and readers who refused to bow to intimidation," ACLU of Arkansas executive director Holly Dickson said in a statement. "Arkansans deserve a state where intellectual freedom thrives, and this ruling ensures that libraries remain sanctuaries for learning and exchange of ideas and information."
John Williams, the group's legal director, declared that "this ruling reaffirms what we have said all along—Act 372 is a dangerous and unconstitutional attack on free expression."
"Our libraries and bookstores are critical spaces for learning, exploration, and connection," Williams added. "By striking down these provisions, the court has safeguarded the right of every Arkansan to access ideas and information without fear of censorship or prosecution."
Democracy Forward also represented some members of the coalition battling the law, including the Arkansas Library Association.
"Laws like Arkansas' that seek to threaten librarians and booksellers with jail simply for doing their job are dangerous for people, communities, and our democracy," said Democracy Forward president and CEO Skye Perryman in a statement. "Our team is honored to represent librarians in Arkansas to stop this attempt to impede the freedom to read and we will meet further attempts in Arkansas and elsewhere with legal challenge."
Leaders of the American Booksellers Association, Association of American Publishers, Authors Guild, Freedom to Read Foundation, Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, WordsWorth Books, Pearl's Books, and WordsWorth Books said in a joint statement that "together with librarians, authors, publishers, booksellers, and readers everywhere, we applaud the court's carefully crafted decision upholding the constitutional right to access books."
"With this historic decision the court has moved decisively to ensure the constitutionally protected speech of authors, booksellers, publishers, and readers," said plaintiffs.
Texas bookstores, national trade associations, and other critics of book bans celebrated on Wednesday after a panel from an ultraconservative U.S. appeals court affirmed a decision to temporarily block part of a new state law intended to restrict what's allowed in public school libraries.
House Bill 900, or the Restricting Explicit and Adult-Designated Educational Resources (READER) Act, was signed last June by Republican Gov. Greg Abbott. This case focuses on the section of the law requiring book vendors that sell to schools to submit ratings about sexual content to the Texas Education Agency (TEA) and provide annual updates.
The contested law requires booksellers to label all material as "sexually explicit," "sexually relevant," or "no rating." Sexually explicit books must be removed from school library shelves and cannot be sold to districts, while sexually relevant material cannot be checked out without parental consent. The TEA can make changes to vendors' ratings.
"Our kids deserve the freedom to read, and their local schools and libraries are no place for censorious adults to push their religious and political agendas."
A pair of bookstores—Houston's Blue Willow and BookPeople in Austin—joined with the Association of American Publishers, American Booksellers Association, Authors Guild, and Comic Book Legal Defense Fund to challenge the law, arguing that it violates free speech rights and would subject plaintiffs to "irreparable personal and economic injury."
Judge Alan Albright of the U.S. District Court for the Western District of Texas, an appointee of GOP former President Donald Trump, temporarily blocked the book-rating policy in September. The New Orleans-based 5th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals panel unanimously agreed in a Wednesday opinion penned by Trump-appointed Judge Don Willett.
"The question presented is narrow: Are plaintiffs likely to succeed on their claims that READER violates their First Amendment rights? Controlling precedent suggests the answer is yes," wrote Willett, joined by Judges Jacques Wiener and Dana Douglas, appointees of former President George H.W. Bush and President Joe Biden, respectively.
While welcoming that the opinion does not apply to newly adopted standards for school library collection development, Texas Rep. Jared Patterson (R-106), who authored H.B. 900, expressed disappointment with the decision and urged Republican state Attorney General Ken Paxton to appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court.
Unless Paxton appeals to the high court, the case will return to the district level for full arguments. While there is still a fight ahead, plaintiffs in the case and other critics of the law still celebrated on Wednesday.
"We are grateful for the 5th Circuit Court of Appeals' decisive action in striking down this unconstitutional law," the plaintiffs said in joint a statement. "With this historic decision the court has moved decisively to ensure the constitutionally protected speech of authors, booksellers, publishers, and readers, and prevent the state government from unlawfully compelling speech on the part of private citizens."
"The court's decision also shields Texas businesses from the imposition of impossibly onerous conditions, protects the basic constitutional rights of the plaintiffs, and lets Texas parents make decisions for their own children without government interference or control," they added. "This is a good day for bookstores, readers, and free expression."
As the Austin-American Statesman reported:
The decision was great news for Charley Rejsek, CEO of BookPeople.
"They recognized that this law as it's written would force us to divert time and effort away from our regular business," Rejsek said. "This was not good for any business."
Rejsek added that rating books by the April 1 deadline "was completely impossible to do."
Texas Republicans are among GOP policymakers across the country who have embraced right-wing efforts to ban books at the state and local levels in recent years, initiatives that have often focused on content related to sex, gender identity, and race.
During the 2022-23 school year, PEN America tracked 3,362 instances of book bans in U.S. public school classrooms and libraries cutting off students from 1,557 unique titles. The group noted that this represented a significant increase from figures the previous year and targeted authors were "most frequently female, people of color, and/or LGBTQ+ individuals."
Texas Freedom Network organizing director Seneca Savoie said in a statement Wednesday that "the courts should exist to protect and defend the rights of everyone in our communities, including our children. We applaud the 5th Circuit for upholding Judge Albright's initial ruling, rather than aiding our state's leaders in their endless culture wars and attacks on LGBTQIA+ Texans and our basic freedoms."
"Our kids deserve the freedom to read, and their local schools and libraries are no place for censorious adults to push their religious and political agendas," Savoie added. "While we were deeply disheartened that the 5th Circuit previously allowed this unconstitutional law to go into effect knowing that it violates the rights of Texas kids and their families, justice has finally been served."
As Willett noted in the Wednesday opinion, previously, "a different panel of this court granted the administrative stay."
"We deserve to be able to express ourselves safely at school and we deserve to see ourselves in media at school, especially in books," said an eighth grade student who joined one of the lawsuits.
A U.S. federal judge on Friday blocked key parts of what critics called a "sweeping Iowa law that seeks to silence LGBTQ+ students, erase any recognition of LGBTQ+ people from public schools, and bans books with sexual or LGBTQ+ content."
Judge Stephen Locher determined that none of the plaintiffs in a pair of cases filed against Senate File 496 has standing to challenge the provision requiring school districts to notify parents if a child seeks an accommodation relating to gender identity, including the use of pronouns that does not match registration records.
However, Locher issued a preliminary injunction blocking enforcement of a ban on any book containing "descriptions or visual depictions of a sex act"—except for the Bible—in all public school classrooms and libraries, and a prohibition on "any program, curriculum, test, survey, questionnaire, promotion, or instruction relating to gender identity or sexual orientation" in kindergarten through sixth grade.
"This decision sends a strong message to the state that efforts to ban books based on LGBTQ+ content, or target speech that sends a message of inclusion to Iowa LGBTQ+ students cannot stand."
The law—part of a national wave of GOP-led book bans and other policies targeting LGBTQ+ youth—was passed by the Iowa Legislature and signed by Republican Gov. Kim Reynolds this spring. The Associated Press noted Friday that it "was set to take effect January 1 but already had resulted in the removal of hundreds of books from Iowa schools."
The two lawsuits against S.F. 496 were filed last month. The Iowa State Education Association, Penguin Random House, and some popular authors partnered for one of the cases. The ACLU of Iowa, Lambda Legal, and the law firm Jenner & Block also sued on behalf of Iowa Safe Schools and several students and their families—including Berry Stevens, an eighth grader from West Des Moines.
"I've known since I was in third grade that I am a part of the LGBTQIA+ community," said Stevens—whose mother, Rev. Brigit Stevens, is also a plaintiff in the case—when the suit was launched in November. "In sixth grade, I first changed my name and started using they/them pronouns because I knew I wasn't a boy or a girl. I'm just a person. This is a concept that a lot of adults have trouble understanding."
The younger Stevens explained that "I am participating in this lawsuit because this new law hurts all kinds of kids and it hurts many of my friends. We deserve to be able to express ourselves safely at school and we deserve to see ourselves in media at school, especially in books. This law is trying to shut us down and make us be quiet and not openly discuss our lives, who we like, or who we truly are."
"I know what it's like to be bullied and harassed because of being in the LGBTQIA+ community. I wish my school would do something to actually prevent bullying before it happens, not just tell kids it's wrong after the fact," they added. "But because of this law, I feel like the school is too worried about getting in trouble with the state if they try to speak out. This law gets in the way of educators trying to make a safer, more inclusive space for all students."
Another plaintiff, high school senior Puck Carlson of Iowa City, said that "like it or not, sex and sexuality are parts of the teenage experience. Refusing to provide adolescents with information about it means they'll seek out their own information—from the Internet, or from others, in ways that are significantly less safe than books reviewed by teachers or librarians."
"Removing books that discuss queer topics or people from our schools tells our queer students that they do not belong there, that their existence is shameful. I am not shameful," they added. "School is one of the main places that children read, and being able to access literature in which you can see yourself can be instrumental to a student's discovery of themselves—it certainly was to me."
In response to the judge blocking Iowa's book ban and "don't say LGBTQ" provisions, Lambda Legal senior attorney Nathan Maxwell said that "we are glad our clients, Iowa families, and students will be able to continue the school year free from the harms caused by these parts of this unconstitutional law."
"This decision sends a strong message to the state that efforts to ban books based on LGBTQ+ content, or target speech that sends a message of inclusion to Iowa LGBTQ+ students cannot stand," Maxwell added. "Lambda Legal and the ACLU of Iowa will continue our fight to ensure Iowa schools are safe for LGBTQ+ students."
"Children in a democracy must not be taught that books are dangerous," asserted PEN America CEO Suzanne Nossel. "The freedom to read is guaranteed by the Constitution."
The free expression group PEN America on Wednesday joined Penguin Random House—the largest U.S. book publisher—and a group of authors and parents in a lawsuit challenging a Florida county school district's banning of titles about race and LGBTQ+ topics, a policy stemming from Republican Gov. Ron DeSantis' self-described "war on woke."
"Today, Escambia County seeks to bar books critics view as too 'woke,'" states the lawsuit, which was filed in the U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Florida and seeks to return proscribed titles to school libraries.
"In the 1970s, schools sought to bar Slaughterhouse-Five and books edited by Langston Hughes," the suit notes. "Tomorrow, it could be books about Christianity, the country's founders, or war heroes. All of these removals run afoul of the First Amendment."
According to The New York Times:
In Escambia County, the restrictions the lawsuit is concerned with began when Vicki Baggett, a language arts teacher at the district's Northview High School, challenged more than 100 titles beginning last year. Among them were picture books, young adult novels, and works of nonfiction. The complaint described her objections as "nakedly ideological," saying that she had argued that the books "should be evaluated based on explicit sexual content, graphic language, themes, vulgarity, and political pushes."
Among the books was And Tango Makes Three, about a penguin family with two fathers, which she objected to for "serving an LGBTQ agenda using penguins."
The school board—which is a defendant in the case, along with the district—has so far "voted to remove 10 books, some entirely and others from certain grade levels," the Times reported. "In each instance, the board did so despite a recommendation from a district-level committee of educators, media specialists, community members, and parents that the books remain in place."
PEN America CEO Suzanne Nossel said in a statement that "children in a democracy must not be taught that books are dangerous. The freedom to read is guaranteed by the Constitution."
"In Escambia County, state censors are spiriting books off shelves in a deliberate attempt to suppress diverse voices," Nossel added. "In a nation built on free speech, this cannot stand. The law demands that the Escambia County School District put removed or restricted books back on library shelves where they belong."
Penguin Random House CEO Nihar Malaviya said that "books have the capacity to change lives for the better, and students in particular deserve equitable access to a wide range of perspectives."
" Censorship, in the form of book bans like those enacted by Escambia County, [is] a direct threat to democracy and our constitutional rights," Malaviya added. "We stand by our authors, their books, and the teachers, librarians, and parents who champion free expression."
Lindsay Durtschi, an Escambia County parent and plaintiff in the suit, argued that "without diverse representation in literature in school libraries and inclusive dialogue in the classroom, we are doing irreparable harm to the voices and safety of students in Florida."
"Our children need the adults in their lives to stand up for the promise of inclusion and equity," Durtschi added.
The new lawsuit comes amid a relentless attack by DeSantis—a likely 2024 Republican presidential candidate—on educational freedom from kindergarten through the university level.
On Wednesday, DeSantis signed a bill extending the so-called "Don't Say Gay or Trans" law—which prohibits classroom discussions of sexual orientation or gender identity—to include all grades K-12.
The governor has also replaced key state education officials with right-wing allies who toe his "anti-woke" line, while stoking a climate of fear in which educators have removed books from classroom libraries to avoid running afoul of bans on titles dealing with race or LGBTQ+ issues.
Common Dreams reported last month that laws passed in Republican-controlled states have led to nearly 1,500 book bans nationwide during just the first half of the 2022-23 school year. This followed a record number of book bans last year, according to the American Library Association.
"Each attempt to ban a book by one of these groups represents a direct attack on every person's constitutionally protected right to freely choose what books to read and what ideas to explore," said one intellectual freedom advocate.
Librarians from across the United States released a report showing that pro-censorship groups' efforts to ban books with LGBTQ+ themes and stories about people of color have driven an unprecedented rise in the number of book challenges, with right-wing organizers pushing library workers to remove works ranging from the dystopian novel The Handmaid's Tale to children's books about foods enjoyed in different cultures.
According to the American Library Association (ALA), a record-breaking 2,571 unique titles were challenged in 2022, a 38% increase from the previous year.
The organization recorded 1,269 demands to censor books from various groups and individuals, compared to 729 challenges counted in 2021.
"Each attempt to ban a book by one of these groups represents a direct attack on every person's constitutionally protected right to freely choose what books to read and what ideas to explore," said Deborah Caldwell-Stone, director of the ALA Office for Intellectual Freedom. "The choice of what to read must be left to the reader or, in the case of children, to parents. That choice does not belong to self-appointed book police."
The Office for Intellectual Freedom said that starting in 2021, a rising number of challenges began targeting large numbers of titles, suggesting they were coordinated efforts from national groups like Moms for Liberty. Previously, the vast majority of book challenges were focused on a single book to which a parent or group of parents objected.
In 2022, 90% of the books challenged were part of attempts to censor multiple titles, the ALA reported.
"A book challenge is a demand to remove a book from a library's collection so that no one else can read it. Overwhelmingly, we're seeing these challenges come from organized censorship groups that target local library board meetings to demand removal of a long list of books they share on social media," said Caldwell-Stone. "Their aim is to suppress the voices of those traditionally excluded from our nation's conversations, such as people in the LGBTQIA+ community or people of color."
In Florida, where Republican Gov. Ron DeSantis has led a nationwide effort by conservatives to keep public school students from learning accurate American history and discussing issues regarding the LGBTQ+ community, one county removed from school library shelves 176 books which have been held in storage since January 2022. The books include the children's books Hush! A Thai Lullaby, featuring a Thai mother and child, and Dim Sum for Everyone!, about a family eating in a Chinese restaurant.
"I've never seen anything like this," Caldwell-Stone told the Associated Press. "The last two years have been exhausting, frightening, outrage-inducing."
People for the American Way called the association's data, collected from media reports and library professionals across the country, "shocking but not surprising."
"The far right wants to turn back the clock on the freedom to read, teach, and learn," said the group. "We won't stand for it."
The ALA report comes four months after voters in at least two U.S. towns voted to cut or eliminate funding for their public libraries in the wake of campaigns to ban books with LGBTQ+ themes.
People in Jamestown Township, Michigan voted for a second time against a millage to fund 84% of their library's budget, dooming the facility to a likely closure in 2024. The vote followed a push by a local conservative group to remove the book Gender Queer: A Memoir.
Craighead County Jonesboro Library in Arkansas lost 50% of its funding after "librarians and library workers were labeled pornographers and pedophiles because of the books on their shelves" that dealt with LGBTQ+ themes, as EveryLibrary Institute executive director John Chrastka told Publishers Weekly in November.
A poll commissioned by the EveryLibrary Institute last year found that 75% of respondents were opposed to efforts to ban books, and across 16 states last fall, a majority of initiatives to pull funding from libraries failed.
"While a vocal minority stokes the flames of controversy around books, the vast majority of people across the nation are using life-changing services that public and school libraries offer," said ALA President Lessa Kanani'opua Pelayo-Lozada on Thursday. "Our nation cannot afford to lose the library workers who lift up their communities and safeguard our First Amendment freedom to read."

In the world of retail, independent bookstores exist in a category all their own -- some combination of library, university, meeting house, lecture hall, coffee shop, art gallery, and concert space. And, in the age of digital publishing, reviving and protecting the neighborhood bookstore has become a sort of social cause. This is why 900 writers and "book nerds" are volunteering in 400 indie bookstores across the country on the Saturday after Thanksgiving this year: They're asking people to skip the frenzy of shopping malls and buy books directly from the people who author them.
The idea for the event, called "Indies First," came from novelist Sherman Alexie. "Now is the time to be a superhero for independent bookstores," he wrote in September in an open letter to authors via the American Booksellers Association.
The idea is something like a farmer's market -- where the farmer might place his own rutabagas directly into your hands while offering suggestions about how to cook them. "We will make recommendations," wrote Alexie. "We will practice nepotism and urge readers to buy multiple copies of our friends' books. Maybe you'll sign and sell books of your own in the process. I think the collective results could be mind-boggling (maybe even world-changing)."
This map gives details of all the upcoming Indie Bound events -- where to find them and which authors will appear in your community. (Alexie will sell books on Saturday in Seattle, Washington, alongside several other authors, including Maria Semple, a screenwriter for shows like Arrested Development and Beverly Hills, 90210, and a novelist.)
'This is what's most irreplaceable about a bookstore -- not the ink and paper, but the way the store gives us a space for collectively sharing stories and a diversity of ideas, from the mundane to the inspired to the controversial.'Indie bookstores have suffered, of course, from competition from online book sales and corporate megastores; and they will have to adapt to survive the digital economy. But there are few other businesses that are so beloved that they could inspire a day of superheroicism. Whole communities have, in recent years, rallied to save local bookstores. Some stores have even used crowdfunding to stay afloat: Adobe Books in San Francisco, California, for instance, raised $60,000 on the fundraising website Indiegogo earlier this year, according to the New York Times. Local donors saved Kepler's Books, near Stanford University, in 2005. Last year, Kepler's brought 80 people, including Washington Post fiction editor Ron Charles, to its iconic store (and longtime activist hub) in Menlo Park, California, to envision the indie bookstore of the future -- an e-book-friendly place of "creative events" and "life-long learning."
This is what's most irreplaceable about a bookstore -- not the ink and paper, but the way the store gives us a space for collectively sharing stories and a diversity of ideas, from the mundane to the inspired to the controversial.
The free exchange of ideas is especially important for people like Alexie, whose young-adult novel, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, has been frequently targeted by book-banning campaigns in public schools and libraries. Below Alexie speaks to booksellers about the ways in which books keep important and contentious ideas alive:
Sherman Alexie talkes to ABFFE about CensorshipSherman Alexie talks to the American Bookseller Foundation for Free Expression on censorship at the Winter Institute 8 in Kansas ...