BARBARA CURTIS

Perhaps the greatest lesson for parents from conflicts about books like "And Tango Makes Three" is the need to develop a deeper understanding of children's literature.

C.S. Lewis wrote, "It certainly is my opinion that a book worth reading only in childhood is not worth reading even then."

So true. There are books that inspire and stir the imagination ("Lord of the Rings," "King Arthur"). There are books that explore human relationships and the choices we make (anything Jane Austen). There are books that expose the culture's underbelly and show the triumph of the human spirit (anything Dickens). There are books that help children cope with insecurities ("Ira Sleeps Over" or "A Birthday for Frances"), find their place in the world ("Noisy Nora") or maintain hope and optimism ("A Chair for My Mother").

Then there is the current tsunami of "relevant" teen books and propagandistic picture books for kids. Here is where parents really need to look beyond the pictures or the copy on the back cover to find the subtext. My girls tell me of books they're required to read on eating disorders, broken homes and suicidal teens.

In a culture with too much abundance and not enough discernment, our kids' library shelves have become like a cafeteria tipping way too far toward junk food. Too many choices, and many of them meaningless.

Which leads to my main problem with "And Tango Makes Three" and books like it.

I don't like to see children used as political pawns. Too often these days, children's literature is being hijacked by people with a political agenda who want to "teach" children the lessons they think they need to learn.

In a National Public Radio interview -- "Here and Now," May 3, 2005 -- Robert Skutch, author of "Who's in a Family?," said:

"The whole purpose of the book was to get the subject [of same-sex parent households] out into the minds and the awareness of children before they are old enough to have been convinced that there's another way of looking at life. . . . It would be really nice if children were not subjected to the -- I don't want to use the word 'bigotry,' but that's what I want to say anyway -- of their parents and older people."

That's a very narrow worldview, I must say. And I'm not sure that writers who write for children simply for indoctrination purposes merit the same kind of trust and respect that authors who write from a more inspired place and a broader worldview enjoy.

I'm wondering if a picture book about a boy who wanted to grow up to be a priest -- maybe based on a true story -- would be acceptable on public school library shelves. Or how about a story of a girl who one day got off the bus crying because two boys -- one from a fiercely atheist home -- had called her "pea-brained" and "stupid" because she is a Christian? This really happened to my daughter Maddy a couple of years ago (the only time she ever came home without a smile).

The point is that all children will encounter opposition at some point in their lives -- they are too fat, too skinny, too smart, too dumb, too clumsy, too shy. Their house is too small, their car too old, their parents too weird. Maybe their parents are two dads or two moms. You know, I don't think in the world of little children these things really matter all that much.

The early years are the years for building up character, compassion and kindness so that when these issues come up, our kids will respond in the right way. They would not bully someone for being homosexual or having homosexual parents because they do not bully, period.

The problem with children's propaganda is not only that it doesn't respect the autonomy of individuals and their families, but that it crowds out more worthy choices on crowded shelves and in busy schedules.

[School Board member] John Stevens says he is going to ask for a review/updating/overhaul of Loudoun County Public Schools' book review procedures. If this is the case, I do hope that we will add a component to the review process that has to do with guarding our children from propaganda. When a group [of people] -- many with no children in the public schools -- dress up in black and white to defend a book about penguins, you know it's about more than penguins.