I was eight when I ran away from home. It was the summer of ‘76 and my mother did the unspeakable. She banned a book in our home. 

In the stack of books I’d checked out at the library, there was a paperback copy of Jaws I instinctually hid from mom because she could be irrational. The book cover, with its looming shark and nearly-nude swimmer, might make her think the novel wasn’t “proper” for an 8-year-old.

With a plateful of homemade oatmeal cookies, I sat on my bed engrossed in shark attacks. My bedroom door opened and mom (without knocking!) entered my room to put clothes away. Her mouth dropped open when she saw what I was reading. She grabbed it out of my hands and banned the book from the house. 

How dare she!

I fumed and realized there was only one answer to such blatant oppression. I got my red suitcase and packed a nightgown, a change of clothes, my toothbrush and a Nancy Drew book. I stomped down the stairs, ignoring mom as she stood in the kitchen doorway with her arms crossed.

Before I walked out of the house forever, I told her I couldn’t live with her cruelty any longer. I walked two blocks to my Aunt Judy’s house and announced I was moving in because mom was an unreasonable tyrant. 

I stayed the night, knowing mom must regret her terrible behavior. I figured by the next day, she would be frantic with worry. Served her right. (I later learned she’d called my aunt to let her know I was heading her way.)

When I returned home, I asked her if I could read Jaws. She said no. You can bet your sweet bookends I found a copy of Jaws and secretly read it cover to cover.

My effort to read banned books didn’t stop there. As I got older, I tore through Judy Blume’s books, inhaled the Flowers in the Attic series, and absorbed To Kill a Mockingbird. Twice. My cousin and I would sit on the bookstore floor, reading salacious parts of popular bodice-ripper novels written by the queen of romance, Kathleen Woodiwiss. 

Mom realized it was counterproductive to forbid me from reading books, and we ended up having conversations about racism, inequality, sex, and sharks. 

I make it a point to read banned books, buy banned books, promote banned books and encourage my daughters to do the same. I figure if a book is so powerful it has to be banned or burned, that’s a book I need to read. Anything that gets people’s knickers twisted and touches a literary nerve goes on my to-read list.

Parents and lawmakers are increasingly trying to create laws that shelve books that don’t fit in with their (mostly conservative) ideals. When that happens, society loses. Didn’t you read the (ironically) banned Fahrenheit 451?

I agree that 8-year-olds don’t make the best choices, but if we control the curriculum, frame the narrative, and put a conservative slant on history, we’re not doing those 8-year-olds any favors.

In January, when a school board in Tennessee banned the Pulitzer Prize-winning graphic novel, Maus, parents pushed back. The Salt Lake County Library System has dozens of copies of the Holocaust story where the Jews are depicted as mice, Germans as cats, and Americans as dogs. 

I was happy to see it has hundreds of hold requests. 

Looks like I’m not the only one making sure I read things that make me uncomfortable.