“No,” said Ms. Hinchley Wednesday afternoon in the newspaper office. “Absolutely not. We are not going to do anything on the book-burning story. By the time the next issue comes out, it’ll be old news.”
“Just look at what we’ve got, Ms. Hinchley,” Jamie said, trying to speak calmly. She’d been up most of the night working on the survey and then writing her next Telegraph editorial—thankful, really, that she had those tasks to do. “We’re not covering it as news; I know it’ll be old by the next issue. We’re covering it as reaction.”
Ms. Hinchley sighed, and with a great show of reluctance took the sheets Jamie handed her while Tessa, Terry, Jack, and Cindy watched.
STUDENTS (AND OTHERS) IN THE HALLS
A Survey in Reaction to the Halloween Book Burning
After a brief introduction reiterating the facts, the survey went on to say:
We interviewed a hundred people, both at school and around town, to try to put together a representative range of opinion. Forty-eight were against the book burning, thirty-seven were for it, and fifteen weren’t sure where they stood or had no opinion. A lot of people didn’t want to give their names, and lack of space prevents us from printing anywhere near all the replies, so we’ve decided to print excerpts instead, anonymously. If anyone feels slighted and/or would like to be identified, please send us a letter about that and we’ll do our best to include it in the next issue.
—Jamie Crawford, Editor in Chief
PRO
Families for Traditional Values burned their own property and they had a right to do that … It’s a good thing they burned those books. We shouldn’t have filthy books in our libraries … FTV had a permit for a beach bonfire, so what they did was legal … If it takes a bonfire to wake people up to the dangerous goings-on in our schools, well, then maybe that’s what it takes … I’m proud of FTV. It’s about time someone took a stand about obscenity and wrongheadedness in Wilson’s libraries … If adults want to read the trash that’s in the library promoting homosexuality, okay, but keep those books out of the schools and out of kids’ hands. I’m grateful to Lisa Buel.
CON
Nazis burned books in World War II to suppress ideas they didn’t agree with. The First Amendment says we have free speech and freedom of the press. Burning books doesn’t go along with that … Books are ideas. If you burn a book, you burn an idea, and we need all the ideas we can get … Libraries have procedures for requesting removal of books. FTV should have followed them … I don’t think communication in Wilson has failed enough to warrant an extreme measure like the one FTV took on Halloween night … What right does FTV have to tell me what I’m allowed to read? Only my parents have that right, and they say I’m old enough to decide for myself.
Ms. Hinchley sighed when she’d finished reading. “I have to admit you kids did a good job with this,” she said, with obvious reluctance. “Very professional …”
“But?” said Cindy.
“But you have to remember this is a school paper, not a big-city daily or even a small-town weekly.”
“Mr. Bartholomew seems to think it’s okay,” Jamie said quietly. “When I asked him for a quote, I told him we were planning to run a representative sample of school and town opinion in the paper. He didn’t say we couldn’t.”
“No.” Ms. Hinchley reached for the phone. “But did he know exactly what you were planning to do? Did he see the quotes?”
“No,” Jack said. “But …”
“Mr. Bartholomew?” Ms. Hinchley said into the receiver, holding up her hand for silence. “This is Ms. Hinchley. I’m calling you from the newspaper office. Jamie has just shown me the piece she and the other editors want to run in reaction to FTV’s book burning, and … I see … Well, my fear is that what they’ve actually gathered will further polarize an already polarized school community, and … I see. Yes, I will … All right … Yes, right away. Thank you. Goodbye.”
Ms. Hinchley turned to face them. “Mr. Bartholomew would like to see the whole survey.”
“I’ll take it,” Jamie offered.
Terry held out his hand. “No, I’ll take it, Jamie. You’ve still got to show her the editorial.”
“Editorial?” Ms. Hinchley raised her eyebrows as Terry left, followed by Jack and Cindy. Cindy whispered “Good luck” to Jamie as she passed her.
“Right. Editorial,” Jamie said, nodding her thanks to the others. “Look, this is the hottest thing going, in town as well as in school. We can’t just ignore it or pretend it didn’t happen. And if we’re any kind of newspaper at all, we have to run an editorial on it. People expect that!”
Ms. Hinchley sighed again. “I really think this is a grave mistake. Let’s see it, Jamie.”
Tessa got up and stood behind Jamie’s chair as Jamie handed the editorial to Ms. Hinchley.
Editorial
HALLOWEEN BOOK BURNING
The Halloween book burning brings home how very fragile our democracy may be—and also how very strong. On the one hand, burning books seems a blatant violation of free speech and of the right to publish and distribute the written word—freedom of the press.
On the other hand, burning books seems to be a form of free speech in itself, if one takes it as symbolic speech. The Supreme Court ruled some years ago that burning the American flag is a constitutionally protected act of political speech. Isn’t book burning the same thing?
I can see both arguments pretty clearly, I think—and yet I have to come down on the side that says burning books is wrong. Maybe it can be considered constitutionally protected speech, and as such, I should, if not applaud it, at least refrain from saying it should be outlawed. So I’ll say that: it shouldn’t be outlawed.
But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
Let’s face it, FTV doesn’t approve of AIDS education, factual information about homosexuality, and making condoms available in the nurse’s office; that’s why they burned those books. If parents don’t want their kids to learn something or to read something, then those parents should do what they can to ensure that their kids don’t. But it isn’t right for those parents to deprive other people’s kids of that information. If we had only one set of ideas in this country, we’d be a nation of sheep, not people, and that can lead to the kind of thing that happened in Nazi Germany. They burned books there, too.
Is it right to hide information from Wilson’s kids just because FTV doesn’t approve of it?
I don’t think so—and I think that’s what this argument is all about.
“No, Jamie,” said Ms. Hinchley. “I admit that it’s well written and well thought out, but it’s also inflammatory. And there’s no place for that in a school paper.”
Jamie’s hands balled up into fists. “Why not?” she asked, fighting to keep her temper.
“Because a school paper’s main job, as I’ve said a hundred times before, is to bring a school together, not drive it apart.”
“But it’s already apart! The damage has been done. You’re asking me to sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. What do you want me to write? An editorial about needing more tampons in the girls’ bathroom? No, sorry. That would be too sexy. A bland one about—about a shortage of straws in the lunchroom, maybe, or—or what to wear to a football game? That’s not the kind of writer I am, and it’s not the kind of paper Matt Caggin wants the Telegraph to be, either!”
Furious, Jamie snatched her editorial off Ms. Hinchley’s desk, brushed past Tessa, and stormed out of the office, where she stopped, angry tears flooding her eyes, and leaned against the wall. “Damn her,” she muttered under her breath. “Damn her, damn her, damn her!”
In a moment, Tessa was beside her. “You’re going to get yourself suspended. Hinchley turned a lot whiter than she already is, and when she picked up the phone again, her hand was shaking.”
“I don’t care if I get expelled!” Jamie shouted. “Hinchley’s a stupid, timid excuse for a human being. I bet her entire house is pink …”
“Pale pink,” said Tessa, “with ruffles around the shutters …”
“Snow-white ruffles …”
“White lilies outside on the lawn, with tiny little deer lawn ornaments, and …”
“And elves. Lots of elves. Smiling. When it rains, they smile. When it snows, they smile. When there’s a hurricane, they smile … Tess.” Jamie almost took her hand, then thought better of it. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not going to give up, are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Jamie Crawford, you are not going to give up!”
“No,” Jamie said tiredly, “no, I guess I’m not. The survey really does belong in the Telegraph. But what am I going to do?”
“Bargain.”
“Bargain?”
“Bargain.”
“Yeah,” Jamie said. “Yeah. Maybe if I could get an op-ed …”
“Nomi.”
“Oh, right,” Jamie said sarcastically. “Perfect.”
“No, really. It’s worth a try. She said she wanted to make up for not doing one before. Or maybe you could ask Clark.”
Jamie considered it briefly. “Yeah, maybe Clark. I don’t want to push Nomi too hard.” She thought a minute longer, then waved the editorial, which was still crumpled in her hand. “Bartholomew. I’ll show him the editorial. If he overrules Hinchley, we’re in.” She turned and began striding down the hall.
Tessa ran after her, matching her steps to Jamie’s. “If,” she said. “Maybe,” she added when they were outside Mr. Bartholomew’s office, “see what he says about the survey piece first …”
Terry was just coming out. “It’s okay!” he shouted jubilantly, his eyes shining for the first time since Ernie’s decision about Vicky. “He says it’s a great piece and he wishes the school had a Pulitzer, because we’d get it.”
“All right!” exclaimed Tessa.
“He may withdraw that,” Jamie said, knocking, “when he sees what I’m going to ask him next.”
