The Secretary of Education highlights the need for a moral consensus.
In the grand theater of the absurd, where the script of reality seems to have been penned by a sardonic playwright, we find ourselves in a scene that would be laughable if it weren't so deeply troubling. Picture this: the Secretary of Education of the United States, Miguel Cardona, takes to Twitter on June 4th, 2023, to decry the banning of books based on personal preference. The tweet, viewed over a million times, ignites a firestorm. But the controversy isn't about the banning of classics like "To Kill a Mockingbird" or "1984". No, the books in question are a different breed altogether.
Titles such as 'Gender Queer: A Memoir', 'Flamer', 'This Book Is Gay', and 'Let’s Talk About It' have been removed from school curriculums. These aren't your typical coming-of-age novels or historical accounts. They're explicit, graphic, and, according to many, entirely inappropriate for a school setting. Yet, here we have the Secretary of Education rallying against their removal.
In his tweet, Secretary of Education Miguel Cardona was notably vague, a tactic that often serves as a shield for plausible deniability. His statement about banning books, while seemingly innocuous, is misleading when considering the explicit content some of the books in question. Does he agree that some of these books should be kept out of schools? We may never find out because any media that has access to ask his boss, the President of the United States, or him directly, is compromised by the same mysterious forces bringing a cloud over this nation. Cardona's refusal to address the elephant in the room - the inappropriateness of these books for a school setting - is telling. This vagueness, coupled with his avoidance of the obvious, provides ample grounds to accuse him of intentional obfuscation.
The epicenter of this literary quake? Florida, under the governance of Ron DeSantis. The state has become the battleground for a war of words, ideas, and, ultimately, the direction of our nation's moral compass. The question at the heart of it all: who gets to decide what's appropriate for our children to read?
The voices of 'Libs of TikTok' and 'Toby @toby1979' on Twitter echo the sentiments of many. These books weren't banned; they were left out of the curriculum because they weren't suitable for school. Could there be some books deemed inappropriate that warrant a legitimate argument for inclusion? Perhaps. But we can't even begin that discussion until we reach a moral consensus on the current crop of controversial books.
This isn't just a controversy; it's a backlash. It's a collective recoiling from a line crossed. It's the moment in the movie where the audience gasps, not at a plot twist, but at the audacity of a character's actions. It's the Secretary of Education promoting explicit content for kids in school. It's a scene that leaves us questioning: where did our common decency go?
Post-George Floyd, America has been on a rollercoaster ride, careening through a landscape of social and political upheaval. The tracks seem to be leading us towards a point of no return. The idea of keeping this union together feels increasingly like trying to hold water in our hands. It's well beyond time for a peaceful separation.
In this unfolding drama, we're reminded of the antebellum moments leading up to the Civil War. The divide isn't geographical this time; it's ideological. It's a chasm that widens with every tweet, every decision, every book removed or retained. It's a divide that questions the very foundation of our nation: the rights of the individual versus the power of the state.
As we navigate this complex narrative, let's remember that the parents of the community should be the ones deciding what books are appropriate for their children. And let's agree that books violating decency laws should not be funded by taxpayers. After all, in this grand theater of the absurd, we're not just spectators; we're also the critics, the playwrights, and the actors. And the next scene is ours to write.
