Power of the written word has successfully propelled countless political and social movements over the course of the U.S.’s existence, igniting flames in the belly of our nation. Recall Sojourner Truth’s ever-powerful "Ain’t I A Woman," demanding recognition of personhood and Martin Luther King’s "Letter From a Birmingham Jail" stirring unrest amongst tumultuous, racial oppression. Deep-seeded emotions pour out of every vowel and consonant of these works in order to effectively portray what some endured and others did not: sub-personhood, unprovoked abuse, and blind hatred. The United States’ history is littered with perfect examples of how not to act toward fellow human beings, and as a nation, we must take even fictional accounts of such struggles seriously and learn from them.
We have all fallen victim to those uncomfortable moments in school when you are forced to read inappropriate words or phrases aloud and must pretend you didn’t just say something crude enough to make your grandma faint. However, Grandma is not the one who still has growing up to do; you are. It is unfashionable snooty to deny the educational value and literary impact of books due to its jarring content, for reading any piece of literature that leaves you with the same mentality as before you started is not worth picking up. Words are to be interpreted, digested, and felt so that humans can experience things that did not happen in their space of existence. I was fortunate enough to matriculate through a school system that included controversial novels in its required reading, including Harper Lee’s "To Kill A Mockingbird"and John Steinbeck’s "Of Mice and Men," books that altered my way of perceiving society. The sense of the first-person perspective that literature offered me was the difference between shallow recognition of the depicted inequality and actual sympathy based in true comprehension. Had my town of Oxford, Connecticut moved to ban said books over racial slurs, as countless districts and countries have, I might not be the open-eyed intellectual I am today.
There is no denying that demeaning profanities aimed at specific walks of life are upsetting, but reflection on past blatant mistreatment of minorities, namely those who identify as black, is an essentially constructive aspect of improving our the country as a whole. Fiction can pack the same punch as nonfiction when it comes to recounting horrific racism if it is written honestly, without blurring the cruelty displayed by those who possess what African philosopher Charles W. Mills calls “whiteness” as opposed to “non-whiteness.” And who are we to critique the linguistic abilities and choices of renowned authors of Lee and Steinbeck’s caliber? Perhaps the real reason why racially-focused books are often shunned by American school districts is a shame. They are ashamed of what once was, and what still escapes from muffled mouths. By no means is throwing the N-word around like a trendy greeting the solution to teaching tolerance and facing reality, nor should it be used in any context aside from historical, but its presence in socially stimulating novels serves as a powerful teaching tool. If the exposure of racial slurs generates compelling emotions and starts a discussion within the classroom, we know literature has done its job.
