Columnist

Nate the Great vs. Book-Ban Dan

I met Nate Coulter a few years ago when a friend introduced us. And as soon as I met him, I wished I had known him my whole life. He's one of those people you'd never want to miss out on--an Arkansas diamond.

Nate quickly related to me because he's also from a small town in Arkansas (Nashville). What I knew about Nashville was that it's the home of the Scrappers. I once had an unpleasant experience with the football team there when Stone was coaching the Hillbillies. Specifically, they scrapped us.

But I don't hold that against Nate. In fact, Nate stole my heart when he told me a story about his high school English teacher. She was the person who saw something in him and insisted he apply to Harvard. Which he did. After finishing his undergraduate degree there, he stuck around to go to Harvard Law School. Then he came back to Arkansas to raise a family, practice law, and be awesome.

These kinds of stories touch my heart, because one of the things I hate most is when super-talented people leave Arkansas and don't return. We need all hands on deck. In the tradition of my ancestors, I started brainwashing my children early about coming home, instilling in them that they would likely never be truly happy or fulfilled anywhere else but the Ozark Mountains.

So far it seems to be working. My oldest daughter was a National Merit finalist who could have gone wherever she wanted for college. Luckily the University of Arkansas made her offers she couldn't refuse, which has kept her close by through her second year of law school.

My son opted for a similar gig at Arkansas Tech, though he never considered Ivy League proposals as seriously as Grace did, on account of not being able to hunt, fish, and ride four-wheelers in Boston or Berkeley.

Two down; two girls still at home to go. The family indoctrination as to Arkansas' superiority over other places to live continues. I shall not be moved.

But Arkansas is not for the faint of spirit. Especially not in this political moment of our history. When my parents were teaching me that this was the greatest place on Earth they could point to Betty Bumpers, the first lady who pioneered widespread childhood immunizations to rid Arkansas' kids of disease. They could tell me about Win Rockefeller's emphasis on public education, or David Pryor, with the sign on his desk that read "Arkansas Comes First."

My kids, in contrast, hear our governor insult the public schools that nurtured their success, and denigrate their parents, grandparents, and aunt and uncle who are all teachers. They watch as our Legislature produces bills that vilify librarians. For examples of Arkansas' best, I point them to people who defend librarians, like CALS director Nate Coulter.

A few weeks ago, this paper printed a guest column by state senator Dan Sullivan that I can only hope readers understood for the petty drivel it was. It made me angry to read it, but also embarrassed. Like when Donald Trump opens his mouth and you wish the whole world did not associate him with America.

Sullivan is the lawmaker who proposed SB 81, the book ban bill, now known as Act 372. I would say he is the author, but I doubt it. Most of the time when I study up on our supermajority's legislation, I find it's cookie-cutter stuff corporate donors managed to get passed in other states.

SB 81 is no different. As with the LEARNS Act, it was billed as some great parent empowerment thing, a defense of liberty, a stand against the woke mob, blah blah blah. One wonders if the people who come up with these things have ever met a librarian. I have friends who are, and they are not exactly radical leftist groomer militants. One is a quilter, the other a caregiver to her elderly mom, and the public-school ones I am thinking of are two of the most conservative Christian women I know. They are more likely to have a Guideposts devotional on their desks than a CRT manual--if such a thing even exists--or any lewd material.

One of them was in my home not long ago picking up her daughter from a sleepover with Stella. She teared up as she expressed the fear she felt over the act. Such conversations inspire the same rage I feel about the rhetoric spewed about public schools.

When Sen. Bart Hester says superintendents are his enemy, and Sen. Breanna Davis calls them liars, when the governor over and over insults teachers, do they realize they are talking about real Arkansans? Not some caricature of a coastal liberal, but in many cases people who voted for them out of trust they would represent Christian values? What is the disconnect? Have they looked into the eyes of a public-school librarian like the friend who sat in my kitchen, beat down with worry as well as hurt?

Act 372 makes librarians criminally liable if a kid checks out obscene material, though it does not specify what exactly is obscene. It creates an offense for "furnishing a harmful item to a minor," and removes a defense from state law that protects librarians from being prosecuted for obscenity. My librarian friend, the wife of a local Baptist lay pastor, talked about how hard she works to find good material for the library. Her required professional training, years of experience, expertise. The process she goes through. And how there is no way to know every word in every book, and it is not her job to censor ideas she disagrees with.

The image of this strait-laced, gentle soul in handcuffs and orange leapt into my head, I am sure as an attempt by my brain to find humor in the situation. I hugged her and said I would visit her in jail.

Thankfully Nate the Great is doing better than that. Since he actually understands the Constitution and takes seriously his oath to support and defend it, he has chosen to litigate the constitutionality of Act 372 in federal court, defending the staff and patrons of the Central Arkansas Library System from Sullivan's assault on their First Amendment rights. This is well within the scope of his duties as director of CALS, though it is significantly harder than just complying with the bully's demands.

In this he sets an example for us all. Because doing the hard thing is what it will take to rid our state of the bullies we have allowed in charge. Stand up to them: in the courtroom, the classroom, the boardroom, even the bathroom. And most of all, stand up by showing up at the ballot box.

Gwen Ford Faulkenberry is an English teacher. Email her at gfaulkenberry@hotmail.com.

Upcoming Events