Middle-school librarian Amanda Jones spoke up against book banning at her local public library board meeting in the summer of 2022. For that, she has received death threats, been labeled a pedophile and a groomer, and been ostracized in the small town of Watson, La., where she has lived all her life.

That Librarian: The Fight Against Book Banning in America is Jones's love letter to libraries, reading, and intellectual freedom, as well as a testament to her incredible resilience in the face of danger and hatred. This part-memoir, part-handbook is both an intimate look at how she and her family have endured threats and harassment and an insightful glimpse into library procedures and legislation. Jones includes numerous screenshots, photos, and e-mails that, together, present a profound and layered image of the landscape of contemporary book banning. Interspersed through the facts and advice are tender, personal anecdotes and inspiring interactions with the children she has taught over the years.

The book opens with the death threat that Jones received after that first board meeting. It was one of many, and part of a campaign of hate mail and social media posts that continues to target her. Jones goes on to describe the intense pain, fear, and despair that she experienced when she first received those threats and the days when she would cry so much that her eyes bruised and swelled shut.

After the initial shock and hurt passed, Jones observes that "the pity party morphed into fury." She decided to fight back. Part of that fight included choosing not to ignore those who had attacked her. Jones took her harassers to court, suing them for defamation. The events of that public library meeting had given her new purpose: "to stick up for librarians and libraries, speak out for historically marginalized students and authors, fight back against online bullying, and help others find their voices to do the same."

That Librarian explores aspects of library collection development and shelving and the differences between public and school libraries. Jones also explains the challenge and reconsideration policies that exist when someone disagrees with a library's book procurement choice, as well the public library guidelines for unaccompanied minors, which state that it is the responsibility of parents to monitor their own children and which sections they are allowed to browse.

For Jones, libraries have always been "places of wonder" that she is fiercely protective of. Throughout the book, she supports others who are similarly minded by providing actionable steps to promote freedom of speech. For example, she describes, step-by-step, how to react and gather more information when someone claims that there are sexually explicit materials in the children's sections of the library, and also lists resources that can support librarians in their fight for intellectual freedom, such as PEN America's Harassment Field Manual.

Jones stresses the importance of community, media, and political support in this fight. She calls on social media users, news outlets, and politicians on both sides to be fair and rational. She extolls the virtues of open, non-threatening communication across political divides and urges people not to believe everything they see online.

She also encourages readers to find strategies to stand up against book bans and suggests methods to stay informed, such as voting in every election and attending school and library board meetings. Jones acknowledges: "Not every gesture has to be grand. If you're not comfortable speaking at public meetings, don't. You do need to show up, though." She goes on to list ways in which communities can show up to support their libraries and librarians, such as by creating solid alliances for their school and public libraries.

While Jones has lost some friends along the way because of her fight, she has also gained many more. She continues to periodically receive hate mail but also now receives letters of support from people she didn't even know. She gratefully states, "Each new message helped me heal" and reflects that there are more good people in the world than there are haters.

That Librarian is an earnest and accessible chronicle of modern-day book banning in America. With great honesty and vulnerability, Jones shares her lowest points with readers, but still manages to view everything she has experienced with pragmatism, humor, and goodwill. She even reflects with relief that, if this had to happen to anyone, she was glad that she was the chosen target of this hate campaign and not others from historically villainized groups who also spoke up that night.

Although Jones has experienced many devastating lows, she remains committed to the fight against censorship and finds ways to cope with the stress of harassment. She affirms, "It's not what other people say about us that determines whether we are winners or losers, but rather our reactions and what we stand for. My daughter thinks I am a badass, and that is everything to me." --Grace Rajendran

Amanda Jones (Kathryn + Travis Photography)

Amanda Jones is an award-winning middle-school librarian from Louisiana who once spoke up for the need for diverse books at a public library board meeting. Since then, she has faced a barrage of death threats and intimidation, which she chose to fight back against by filing a defamation suit against her harassers. Part memoir, part manifesto, That Librarian: The Fight Against Book Banning in America (Bloomsbury; August 27, 2024) is her first book.

Was there a defining moment that inspired you to take up this cause, or that opened your eyes to the need for representation and diversity on library bookshelves?

A defining moment for me, in the need for representation and diversity on library shelves, was when I saw an interview with Marley Dias. She was on a talk show to promote her book Marley Dias Gets It Done and So Can You. At the time, she was 12 or 13, and she spoke about how she felt like the books at her school were all about white boys and their dogs. I purchased her book and embarrassingly realized there was a lot I had never thought about, including making sure all students were represented in the books in our library. From that point forward, I realized things had to change.

How has your activism impacted your life in your hometown?

I call myself an accidental activist. I went and spoke at my local public library board meeting and gave a basic speech against censorship, not knowing I was going to be defamed and harassed online. I live in a small community where some people didn't like that I took a stand for the library. Now I get dirty looks, called names, and receive hateful e-mails from community members. I had to invest in security cameras around my home and constantly look over my shoulder. However, I have no regrets for speaking out on what is right. I recently read an interview where author George M. Johnson said, "There comes a point in time where sometimes these fights choose us, and we have to be ready for the challenge." I wasn't fully ready at the time, but I'm adjusting.

Was it cathartic writing down everything you went through or did it re-open wounds that hadn't yet fully healed?

When I was writing my book, I played music that was soothing to me and just let the tears flow along with the words. I would finish writing each day, and feel like I had gone to battle, but with each chapter, a wound was healed. Telling the world what I've gone through, and what other librarians like me are still going through, was not only cathartic, but empowering. I wrote this book for myself and am just fortunate that Bloomsbury is publishing it. I think I would have written it regardless because sometimes you just have things to say and need to get them out.

Have you heard from any of your former students since this started? How has that experience been?

I joke and say that I'm having my It's a Wonderful Life moment because of all the former students who have reached out to me. My heart is full from all of the former students who have messaged me in support. Not only have they sent positive comments my way, but they also usually have a funny memory from when I taught them. The fact that a 34-year-old former student can vividly remember a lesson I taught them, and how it made them love reading when they were 12, helps me to think I have made a positive difference in their life. Nobody can take that away from me, and it is something the hateful people who target me can only dream of having.

You state in your book that, as you faced a very personal campaign meant to bring you down, you also discovered the incredible side of humanity and just how loving people can be toward one another. Where you have been finding support and comfort these days?

From the very beginning of the harassment, I have never once been alone. Obviously, my family was by my side, but my friends went above and beyond to make me feel supported, and they still do. However, the support wasn't just from friends. I have received flowers to my school from strangers, letters from strangers have been sent to my local bookstore for me, and I have found TikToks where people have talked about how I am inspiring them to fight back against censorship in their own communities. I am open about going to therapy and I have found yoga and meditation to be helpful. But my friends? I think I might have the best friends in the world.

What are some of the banned books that influenced and inspired you as a middle schooler?

I discovered Judy Blume's books as a middle schooler and they all profoundly shaped my childhood. I learned about death from Tiger Eyes, anti-Semitism in Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself, and learned that boys also have a hard time during puberty just like girls in Then Again Maybe I Won't. Judy Blume is one of the most banned authors because her books are honest and raw, and they tackle topics adults don't want to talk about with kids. Her books were the exact books I needed to read in middle school and shaped me into a person I can be proud of in life.

What are you hoping people will take away from reading this book?

I hope that people will read my story and realize this is happening to librarians across the country and and I hope it will inspire them to stand up for their own libraries and librarians. I hope the book shows people that this current attack on libraries is a powerful, well-funded, coordinated movement meant to oppress certain communities that are already historically marginalized, and that it opens voters' eyes to how politicians use libraries and librarians as political pawns in this so-called culture war to pander for votes.

Was there ever a time during all of this that you felt like giving up the fight? What keeps you going?

No, I've never felt like giving up the fight, even though I've had some very low days. I do not think I have it in me to ever give up. I was recently asked what all I'd give to this fight, and it's not hyperbole to say I'd give my life. I truly mean it. Protecting stories and authors, making sure all community members see themselves in the books on library shelves, and showing people that libraries are for everyone is important to me. The thousands of messages of support from across the country, my professional learning network, friends, and my family keep me going. I have never felt more supported in all my life. --Grace Rajendran