When “Maus” was removed from the curriculum of an East Tennessee school district in 2022, some readers responded by trying to put more copies of the book into circulation.
Spencer Pennington remembers patrons bringing copies of Art Spiegelman’s graphic novel about a Polish Jew who survived the Holocaust to the Northwest Georgia public library system where Pennington worked at the time.
The libraries already had copies on their shelves.
“They were shocked and even outraged that a book like this would be challenged,” Pennington says. “It tells a true story of one of the darkest chapters in human history. Of course, any honest book on a subject like that will include difficult elements.”
Four years later, Pennington owns Pennington’s Books in Chattanooga, and as Banned Books Week begins Oct. 4, debates over what books should be available to young readers – and who should make those decisions – continue nationally and close to home.
They also raise a question obscured by one of the most commonly used terms in the debate: What does it mean to ban a book?
In Hamilton County, parents and advocacy groups have challenged books they consider inappropriate for students, while school administrators and other officials decide whether challenged material should remain available, be restricted or be removed.
What counts as a ban?
The Hamilton County chapter of Moms for Liberty, one of the local organizations involved in such efforts, disputes the characterization that it seeks to ban books.
The chapter’s website provides parents with instructions for filing requests with Hamilton County Schools to reconsider instructional materials. Among the possible remedies listed are removing a book, restricting access to it, relocating it or labeling it.
The organization has said it’s not seeking to prevent books from being published, sold in bookstores or stocked in public libraries. For school libraries, however, the chapter has advocated either removing material it considers explicit or placing it in restricted areas accessible with parental consent.
The distinction illustrates some of the disagreement surrounding the term “book ban.”
For Pennington, the issue begins with a principle on which people on opposing sides of the debate might agree.
“Parents have a right to decide what their children read – full stop,” he says.
But Pennington says that right is best protected by maintaining a broad selection of books rather than allowing the objections of some parents to determine what is available to other families.
“For me as a bookseller, that means I should stock a wide range of books,” he says. “If we believe parents have a right to choose what their children read, then bookstores, schools and libraries have a responsibility to provide as many options as possible – not a ‘false choice’ limited to a few books selected by people who aren’t their parents.”
The debate has played out repeatedly in Hamilton County.
In 2021, a parent who identified herself as a member of the local Moms for Liberty chapter told the Hamilton County Board of Education that members were “reading, reviewing and summarizing every book” on the district’s recommended and required reading lists.
Later that year, Moms for Liberty representative Jamie Hall appeared before the board to discuss “a possible solution to book concerns.” The concerns contributed to the creation of a committee to examine reading materials.
Former Hamilton County school board member Rhonda Thurman also sought the removal of four books from school libraries in 2021, citing profanity and references to sex and violence.
More recently, Hamilton County parent Kelly Hubbard objected in December 2025 to “The Kite Runner” after her son brought home a copy that had been assigned as supplemental reading in a high school English class.
Hamilton County Schools reviewed the novel, and Superintendent Justin Robertson determined it did not meet the district’s standards for age-appropriate instructional content. The book, which was not part of the district’s official curriculum or study list, was removed from classroom use.
Hamilton County Schools has a formal policy governing requests to reconsider instructional materials and textbooks. The process allows complaints about materials to be reviewed rather than giving an individual parent or advocacy group the authority to remove them.
Who decides what belongs?
Pennington acknowledges that decisions about what belongs in schools and libraries are more complicated than the rhetoric surrounding book bans sometimes suggests.
“It makes sense for public institutions, especially schools, to account for the communities they serve when deciding on things like curricula and library collections,” he says. “Assigned books should always be age appropriate, and school libraries should have books that meet the needs of their students.”
Not every book that disappears from a library shelf has been censored, he says.
Libraries routinely remove books because they’re damaged, outdated or seldom checked out. With finite shelf space, librarians constantly make decisions about what stays and what goes.
“If that discarded book happens to be ‘1984,’ that doesn’t automatically mean the librarian is trying to keep students from reading it,” Pennington says. “It might just mean no one’s checked it out in a few years and she needs to make room for the latest Percy Jackson spinoff.”
Pennington says a similar calculation takes place at his bookstore. The presence or absence of a title on the shelves is not necessarily a statement about the book.
What concerns him more is when people reach conclusions about books without reading them.
“One thing I see in conversations about banning or challenging books is people repeating others’ perspectives without being familiar with the book in question,” he says. “Things can spiral out of control when we take someone else’s word that a book is dangerous or harmful without reading it ourselves.”
Pennington’s Books, which opened in April, has not received complaints about any particular titles it carries, Pennington says. Nor does a challenge elsewhere automatically make a book more or less likely to earn a spot on his shelves.
“We aren’t afraid to stock or promote any book solely because it’s been banned or challenged,” he says. “But we also won’t choose to stock a book merely because it’s been banned or challenged.”
Instead, Pennington says the store considers whether a book fits its goals of promoting community, creativity, mutual understanding and respect – along with the practical consideration of whether enough customers will buy it to help keep the business operating.
What happens after a challenge?
Still, efforts to restrict books can have an unintended consequence: They can make people want to read them.
Pennington says he read J.D. Salinger’s “The Catcher in the Rye” solely because of its reputation as a “banned book.”
“I think banning a book often has the opposite effect,” he says. “People get curious.”
He suspects some customers have purchased books from his store for the same reason, although he says he can’t confirm it.
“Those who promote ‘banned’ books and oppose book bans are also great at marketing,” he says. “I can’t confirm it, but I have no doubt plenty of people have bought books from us because someone, somewhere, decided to challenge one.”
Independent bookstores also occupy a different position in the debate than public schools and libraries.
The Southern Independent Booksellers Alliance has said independent bookstores are “uniquely positioned to safeguard the freedom to read” because, as privately owned businesses, they can curate their own inventories.
Pennington’s Books is a member of the American Booksellers Association, which advocates for free expression through its support of American Booksellers for Free Expression.
“Our work as a bookseller fundamentally relies on free expression because we rely on having books that can connect with every reader,” Pennington says.
That can mean stocking bestsellers alongside lesser-known works that might otherwise struggle for attention in a book market dominated by large corporations and online retailers. It can also mean carrying books that have drawn challenges elsewhere.
Pennington says the store’s interest in free expression extends beyond business.
“As people, we also deeply value ensuring everyone feels safe and included in our shop,” he says. “The people most impacted by book bans and challenges are often already marginalized.”
For Pennington, then, the question of what belongs on a bookshelf ultimately comes back to the person standing in front of it.
“If we can use our shelf space to make someone feel seen and supported, we’ll do it,” he says.
And when it comes to deciding which of those books a reader should be allowed to choose, Pennington sees his own role more simply.
“My job is to provide access.”