Whooping Cranes and the Freedom to Read

Whenever I hear sanctimonious debates about wokeism and banning books, I think of Whooping cranes. In my family, the gawky, audacious, elusive and endangered birds are synonymous with our values about the First Amendment and the freedom to read.

This came to pass when I was ten years old, a nascent bird-watcher, and I tried to check out a book on Whooping cranes at the Dayton Public Library. I found it in the science and technology department, my favorite room in the library. But my age and status required me to go to the children’s department to borrow it.

The librarian there refused to let me check it out. “You can’t read a book like this,” she said. “You have no business getting books from other parts of the library.”

I tried to explain my interest in birding — and the fact that other librarians had allowed me to borrow books from science and technology. My humiliation deepened when she told me she was a member of the Audubon Society. She knew all about Whooping cranes. The book I wanted was not appropriate for ten-year-olds. End of discussion.

But it didn’t end there. The next day my mother went with me to the library, furious at the injustice. “He can read this book and understand it,” she said. “He can read any book in this library. I don’t care if he wants to borrow Peyton Place — he has the right to read it!”

When I left the library that day, I felt like Patrick Henry emboldened by the defense of liberty. I had my book on Whooping cranes and a brand new library card. Typed in red capital letters across its top were the magic words, ADULT PRIVILEGES.

At dinner that night, my father commemorated this victory with a sardonic opinion that burnished it indelibly in the family tradition. “Those cranes must have been whooping about something to ban that book.”