The Tennessee flap over Maus has burned up a lot of space. Is it really worth all that fuss.
Even though the McMinn County School Board members themselves talked about "banning" the book, but what they actually did was remove it from the curriculum. It will not be part of the officially adopted ELA reading work for eighth grade in the district. Nobody has said anything about removing it from the school library. The actual motion that was passed was "we remove this book from the reading series and challenges our instructional staff to come up with an alternative method of teaching The Holocaust."
Maus hasn't made the ALA list of challenged books in three decades. It's a prizewinning stunning modern work of literature, and there's very little in it to be offended by, which makes it an attractive choice for school programs. (Though decades ago a Polish friend complained to me about the portrayal of Poles as pigs in the work.) Except in this one district.
On any given day, you can find a school board somewhere in this country doing something dumb. And there was a lot of dumb in the room. Reading the transcript of the board meeting, you will find panic over the lascivious lyrics of "I'm Just Wild About Harry," a surprise Broadway hit song of 1921, plus a lot of uncertainty about copyright law and a serious concern about words that students, they acknowledge, might very well hear outside of school or on the tv, but wouldn't be tolerated in school itself. Also, Art Speigelman used to draw cartoons for Playboy, so, you know...
If you don't want to read the full transcript, you can get a good summary here at Mother Jones. What David Corn's summary doesn't fully capture is how the educators tried to calmly and reasonably explain the presence of the book in the curriculum, and how completely Not Heard they were by the board. It certainly was not the first time professional educators were ignored and disrespected by their board, but it's always frustrating when it happens. Nor does most of the coverage capture that this board, while stubborn and a bit thick, were not hell bent for leather to do ditch Maus; at one point in the meeting they even tabled the motion.
It sucks to have your board override your professional judgment, particularly for prudish, rather than educational, reasons. And if these guys think the exceedingly tame Maus is problematic, just wait till someone explains the dirty parts of Shakespeare to them. But I suspect that this story would have been a strictly local issue if book banning weren't having a moment right now.
Book banning sucks and is stupid and on top of that doesn't even accomplish what banners want to accomplish. But reconfiguring the reading list for a curriculum happens regularly, often as works are reconsidered for appropriateness and current standards. Schools across the country have reconsidered To Kill A Mockingbird and English teachers are always painfully aware that for every book they do teach, there are ten other worthy books out there--and they occasionally decide to do something about it. This stuff happens, but forbidding teachers to use a certain text in their classroom (without actually listening to their explanation for using it) is tying their hands and professionally insulting. But until you're taking all the copies out of the school library or throwing them on a big bonfire, it's not a ban.
In the end, I don't think McMinn County and Maus are actually a national new story (I'm aware of the irony in my devoting a post to them here). They don't appear to mark the start of a trend nor do their actions seem informed by any of the current agitating groups. It's a bad decision, even an insulting one for their faculty, but it's a local one. As attempts to ban books and gag teachers go these days, this is small potatoes, and most notable for getting a lot of people to read one of the modern classics that everyone should read, including all the Tennessee children now being showered with free copies of the work--which in McMinn County, unfortunately, they'll be left to negotiate without the insights and support of their teachers.
Which is perhaps the weirdest message to come out of McMinn-- "This book has naughty words and disquieting images while discussing a hugely important and terrible time in human history, so we feel that students should definitely not have the support and assistance of a trained educator while they're sorting it out." Good luck to the folks in McMinn County.