(In)Visibility in the Children’s Section

(In)Visibility in the Children’s Section

Growing up, I loved the public library. My mom would take me on a semi regular routine and I would check out mounds of children’s books to take home. Getting to choose my own books to read felt as much of a treat as getting the newest toy from the newest Disney movie. I remember a handful of things from this experience: that my mom never read them to me, my step father couldn’t read them to me, and that I spent a childhood teaching myself to read using a tape player where I could listen to the audio version of the book or play back recordings to myself. I didn’t understand then that my mom was going to night classes to become a nurse to take care of her children after my dad died, or that my stepfather never got to learn to read and had spent his young adult years in prison. I felt joy at getting to go to the public library. I didn’t notice that my family didn’t look quite like the ones portrayed in the children’s books, or that my sexuality didn’t quite look like the ones portrayed in them either. I would check out about thirty books each month, go home, set up my dolls around me and jump into a book. I, unbeknownst to me in early childhood, was searching for myself in children’s books. It was clearly there in my Barbie doll selection as I always prefered Teresa (one of Barbie’s fictional friends) for having brown hair and being advertised as “Hispanic”, but it would be years before I started recognizing my search for self in books. 

Emily Drabinski opens their article, “Queering the Catalog: Queer Theory and the Politics of Correction”, with the following statement, “Libraries are spaces where language really matters… Libraries are also spaces of control” (Drabiniski, 94). Drabinski then goes onto to describe the way in which the language is controlled, through classification structures, controlled vocabularies (which universalize language), and how, ultimately, these systems are “remarkably resistant to change'' (Drabinski, 94). Drabinski ties this back to the idea that libraries are constructed to hold this “disciplinary power of language” (Drabinski, 94). Training in conducting librarian reference is reinforced to work within this structure, as a site that doesn’t allow for any growth and change. I agree with the idea that libraries are a space where language matters, in various ways. I also understand that by applying queer theory to a problem that is deeply rooted in a language and system unwilling to change, pushing for this change I will be discussing shortly is a challenge. But the way I identify language matters the most for children.

Dean Spade talks about the ways in which administrative laws have further categorized lives into those who matter and those who don’t, those whose lives are “cultivated” and “those who are abandoned, imprisoned or extinguished” (Spade, 325). And while these laws have put into place to “protect” communities, they actually put those meant for protection into deeper levels of vulnerability. Recent policies and laws targeting LGBTQ+ communities have been growing on a national level. Laws recognizing marriage between gay and lesbian couples was followed by a surge in a continual struggle to pass laws recognizing transgender and non-binary identities. Pride month and national days of recognition in LGBTQ+ history have become a part of this new norm in public library spaces, and pop culture, without recognizing the historical suffering behind them. 

San Francisco Public Library, self promoting as the Queerest Library Ever, celebrates Pride month each year, hosting a wide range of events for adults, teens and children. Events for children in 2018 included Rainbow storytime and Drag Queen Story Time and two days of arts and crafts making posters and bracelets for the Pride parade. Similarly, the West Hollywood branch of the Los Angeles County Public Library also hosts a Drag Queen Story Time. This particular event is well received and extremely popular, growing beyond Pride month and being held throughout the year. While the Los Angeles County Public Library does offer a page on its website dedicated to providing a reading list on the LGBTQ+ community, other resources are meant to be specifically sought out. 

The American Library Association has a subdivision dedicated entirely to meeting the needs of the LGBTQ+ community. The ALA associates the lack of awareness and public displays aimed for the LGBTQ+ community as due to the controversy that sexual orientation and gender identities can cause. Tying this back to the decision to make Drag Queen Story Time normalized to the point of making it a fun and more frequent event does meet backlash. Groups of folks will still call West Hollywood Public Library with concerns over their LGBTQ+ events, such as seeing it as harmful to the children. 

The ALA uses this as a potential reason as to why there may be a reluctance from purchasing more books or materials relating to LGBTQ+ communities. The ALA also gives an overall toolkit on how librarians should approach the public when it comes to meeting the needs and services for LGBTQ+ users. While this is aimed for library users in general, the ALA also offers resources, scholarships and awards. The Stonewall Book Awards, founded in 1971, are granted to authors who write LGBTQ+ children’s picture books. They also include a section dedicated to books, films, magazines and websites for children on LGBTQ+ genres. 

The LGBTQ+ community needs visibility, protection and understanding now more than ever. The constant struggle to push laws and policies into place that would protect the rights of these communities is something that needs to be instilled in our children on a fundamental level. By providing constant access to LGBTQ+ friendly events, services and books and other forms of media, the public library can play a huge role in making waves of change for good. LGBTQ+ children should have access to a librarian and children’s section where their identities are recognized in the books they read. While many of these books are already on the shelf, the fear of controversy is something that needs to be addressed and overcome. As a child, the public library was a place that I could go to escape and to try and find myself. Without it, I probably wouldn’t have grown up to seek out ways to help the library become a space for children, especially those who fall outside of the norm, to utilize for their own representation and sense of validation and security. 

Citations:

Dean Spade, “Administrating Gender,” Normal Life (New York: South End Press, 2011), as excerpted in Feminist and Queer Information Studies Reader (Los Angeles: Litwin, 2013), 324- 350. 

Emily Drabinski, “Queering the Catalog: Queer Theory and the Politics of Correction,” Library Quarterly 83 (12) (2013): 94-111.