Many of us can tell stories of when we first encountered Judy Blume's books; I still own the paperback copies of Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret and Blubber that I bought at my 5th grade school book fair, as well as the copy of Tiger Eyes that my 6th grade math teacher took from me when I was reading instead of listening to her lesson. I learned about scoliosis from Deenie, the New York Times from It's Not the End of the World, and sex from Forever. When I was growing up, I sometimes hid the Judy Blume books I was reading (Wifey comes to mind), but I always read those books with intense curiosity and passion.

As a high school teacher, I was excited to discover Judy's short story anthology Places I Never Meant to Be: Original Stories by Censored Writers (Simon & Schuster, 1999). The stories were wonderful, and they were well-received in my 9th grade classroom, but I was more interested in the fact that Judy had taken a stance on censorship and rallied writers to join this project to benefit the National Coalition Against Censorship. Reading individual authors' statements about their experiences being challenged or censored was as interesting to me as the stories themselves. Though I grew up unaware of the sheer number of censorship battles Judy fought in the 1980s, when I found her name on this book, it seemed fitting that the project was hers. Judy's introduction to Places I Never Meant to Be, which functions as a short history of her experiences with censorship,is available as a link on her website. Playing the video commentary she recorded a couple of years ago for the National Banned Books Week Virtual Read Out gives me chills. Listening to her talk is listening to a legend. 

In recent years I've been struck by the number of contemporary YA authors who mention Judy Blume as a source of inspiration. I've heard Judy's name in vlog posts by John Green, interviews with Coe Booth, and in-person talks by Sara Zarr. I've also been struck by the support Judy Blume has given YA authors on Twitter. Last year she praised John for The Fault in Our Stars and sent encouragement to Jay Asher and Carolyn Mackler for their Future of Us book tour. It seems fitting that she is now a mentor to the newest generation of YA writers. That role as an elder in the field, it seems to me, makes it all the more appropriate for us to honor her with the ALAN Award.

Judy won the ALA's Margaret A. Edwards Award for Lifetime Achievement in 1996. She was named a Living Legend by the Library of Congress in 2000. She received an honorary National Book Award for her contributions to American letters in 2004, and she received an honorary doctorate from Rutgers University in 2010. ALAN would join numerous other distinguished organizations in honoring Judy with the ALAN Award. I feel no other living author deserves this award more than Judy. She truly is a living legend.

Lines in the Sand

Lines.  We suspect we all have them-those sometimes inconsistent, sometimes shifting, sometimes contradictory markers that we use to define "acceptable" under certain conditions at certain times for certain audiences.  In these final days of summer, we embrace the quiet calm and channel our inner philosophers to wonder about these lines, where we as individuals and as a profession choose to draw them, and the implications of such actions.

Would you...

• Cancel a school library magazine subscription if the publisher included a cover image that offended you?
• Store a potentially controversial independent reading title in a classroom filing cabinet and share it only with students you feel are mature enough to read it?
• Order classroom or school library titles that are less likely to result in disapproval on behalf of the parents or guardians of your students, colleagues, or administrators?
• Avoid eating at a restaurant that publicly promotes social or moral views that run counter to your own?
• Limit student access to an approved list of safe Internet sites for a research project?
• Limit student research projects to an approved list of safe topics?
• Label books as most appropriate for particular readers, dependent upon their age or grade level?
• Write a letter to the local newspaper editor opposing the opening of an adult bookshop in close proximity to your child's neighborhood elementary school?

We wonder which, if any, of the above scenarios represent censorship and whether any "yes" responses are justifiable or warranted (or just easily rationalized). We wonder if schools and libraries fall under a different set of considerations given the age of students involved. We wonder if answers to these questions differ when we explore them through philosophical versus practical lenses.

Assuming these lines exist, we must then wonder (and perhaps question) whose lines are privileged, challenged, ignored, or denied within the school and library communities in which we work.  If individual perspectives can be plotted at variant points along the continuum of acceptability, where in the sand do we draw our collective lines as we consider policy issues, materials selection, curriculum development, etc.?  What is gained and lost in having to mediate our differences?

We raise these questions as a reminder of the complicated nature of censorship, the way it is tightly intertwined with deeply seated beliefs, morals, values, and ways of thinking and doing that define our identities, and the heightened emotions it inspires when we disagree.  We encourage you to engage in thought and conversation about your lines and those of others in your communities. Where do you stand?