“The Fort Cherry School District in Washington County recently struggled over the use of an anthology, ‘The Bedford Introduction to Literature,’ after a parent complained about its sexually explicit content…Parents who find passages objectionable can have their students opt out of reading the material. ‘Bedford’ was not returned to Advanced English classes, though teachers are permitted to use it as a resource.” – The Tribune-Review

Dear Mrs. Hannigan,

I can’t express the disdain I felt when my eldest daughter, Flora, arrived home with a copy of Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. I understand there are some merits to this book, such as its in-depth exploration of surrealism and meta-fiction, but its graphic and disturbing imagery is truly inappropriate for a high school sophomore. The caterpillar smoking from a Turkish-style water-pipe, the predatory nature of the Cheshire cat – read between the lines, Mrs. Hannigan, and you will find a tale of drug-abuse and implied pedophilia. Need I add that Carroll himself was an opium abuser? And honestly, the book is hardly improving her vocabulary. If she’s not coming home saying, “Yo, Dad, wassup?”, she’s quoting Jabberwocky passages. I’ve heard more references to “slithy toves” than any parent should.

Respectfully yours,

R. Isenberg.

Dear Mr. Jones,

While I respect the eccentricities of your personal life, I'd try harder to keep the divide between private business and your profession. I’m referring to the book you assigned my son, Toby, who is a very impressionable third grader and already has an inordinate affection for cooking and Herbal Life products. The book is Frog and Toad Are Friends, by Arnold Lobel, the most disconcerting gay propoganda I’ve seen in years. I know this whole out-of-the-closet business is pretty standard nowadays (I admit, I enjoy a good Queer as Folk now and then), but I feel you might have an agenda. Have you seen the cover of this book? Two male amphibians riding a tandem bicycle? I don’t think “friends” quite covers it. And what about this passage: “‘At last,’ shouted Toad, ‘my seeds have stopped being afraid to grow!’” What could that be a reference to? Please exempt Toby from reading this smut.

Sincerely,

R. Isenberg.

Dear Mrs. Walker,

I’m wringing my hands over the book you assigned my daughter Kasey. I caught her flipping through a copy of Where’s Waldo Now?, by Martin Hartford, and felt horror at what I saw: pages of Viking massacres, Roman gladiator fights, and Crusaders falling off parapets. I imagine the Dean of Schools has innocently passed this off as “historical education,” but frankly I expected less graphic depictions of the past (isn’t there an Errol Flynn movie you could show her?). And while Waldo may have that certain geek charm (glasses, walking stick), I hardly want to encourage Kasey to seek strange men in crowds – especially men wearing striped sweaters. That’s how kidnappings happen, Mrs. Walker. Please allow Kasey to skip the enclosed assignments.

Regards,

R. Isenberg

Dear Mr. Kensington,

Ever since I found my son Adam’s required reading assignment, I’m ashamed I even showed up at your kindergarten’s bake sale. Do you have children, Mr. Kensington? Because I certainly hope they’re not reading There’s a Nightmare in My Closet, by Mercer Mayer. The protagonist owns a gun, for goodness sakes. And when the monster appears, the child hesitates only a second. “I shot him anyway,” the child gloats. True, it’s only a pop gun, but seriously, Mr. Kensington, children’s eyes are no less vulnerable to projectiles than ours. And no, the Nightmare isn’t actually harmed, but do you think I want my five-year-old worrying about pink monsters molesting him in the night? You may have read the recent USA Today article that said adult phobias start at a very young age. But clearly that isn’t a concern of yours, Mr. Kensington. Why don’t you just play Rosemary’s Baby for the rest of the year, as long as you don’t care about Adam’s psychological makeup? Should you own up to your mistake, I await word of your resignation.

Fondest wishes,

R. Isenberg

Back to Lord Robert Von Isenberg's Essays