CENSORSHIP: Let's give 'em something to talk about

Hey, it was time for a new controversy.
The gossip-filled election season is over.
Owners of horse farms in Newlin are, however grudgingly, applying for and receiving special exceptions to comply with the highly unpopular new ordinance.
And then along comes "Nineteen Minutes." In short, one parent wanted the best-selling book by Jodi Picoult to be banned from the Kennett High School library because she felt it was inappropriate. The book is about a school shooting and bullying and contains some graphic language and violence.
The school board rejected her request by a 7-1 vote, the lone dissenter being the minister of a Kennett fundamentalist church.
There was an absolutely spot-on editorial in last week's Kennett Paper, hoping that a censorship issue like this never again raises its ugly head. The editorial writer quoted school board member Rudy Alfonso, a Navy veteran: "Banning this book, to me, would almost be like turning my back on all those hundred of thousands of American veterans, men and women, who died to allow us to keep those freedoms and not to have censorship. I see this attempt to ban this book as if we live in Nazi Germany."
There's a world of difference between finding something troubling and wanting to ban it. Speaking of Nazi Germany, I find books and websites by Holocaust deniers disturbing. I find violent, misogynistic song lyrics disturbing (and all too common). I find our culture's worship of celebrities disturbing.
But banning them? Not only is it impractical in today's world, where kids are two jumps ahead of us technology-wise, but surely it would be better to use these troubling books as valuable teaching moments.
For instance, instead of banning Holocaust deniers, let's make sure kids study the Holocaust. Have them read first-person accounts by the prisoners and the solders who liberated them. Then they'll have a frame of reference to debunk the hateful deniers.
Yes, I swallowed hard when I saw The Young Relative reading "Of Mice and Men" in the sixth grade. Part of me wanted him to stay in that sunny world of suburban childhood innocence, with Legos and "Star Wars" and "Plants vs. Zombies."
But he's a young man now. And I well remember the empowering sense of pride I felt when, at his age, I was trusted enough and considered mature enough to read what in those days passed for edgy books: "Catcher in the Rye," "The Godfather," "The Magus," "Manchild in the Promised Land."
And all of them were right there in our school library.