Children’s literature has long served as a gateway for young minds to explore and understand the world around them. However, in many Black and Latino communities there is a glaring absence — a lack of representation of the hyper-militarized police surveillance and political targeting of juveniles. This deliberate omission is indicative of a larger issue of censorship and avoidance in education.

The targeting of juveniles by political entities through the censorship of books is a troubling trend that has serious implications for the education and development of young minds. One particularly egregious example of this censorship is the deliberate exclusion of any discussion of the history of the prison industrial complex from school curricula and reading lists.

No doubt, the prison industrial complex is an uncomfortable conversation for most people — but it impacts so many people’s lives. Whether you acknowledge it or not, there exists an interdependent network of public and private institutions that profit from the incarceration of individuals, particularly people of color and those from underserved communities. This system has deep roots in the history of the United States, dating back to slavery and the convict leasing system.

So why should the prison industrial complex be represented in children’s literature and integrated into education? The carceral state has a tangible presence in the lives of millions of children, with nearly 3 million having a parent behind bars. When considering formerly incarcerated parents, this number rises to 5 million children who are affected by parental incarceration. These children deserve to see their experiences reflected in the literature they consume.

By limiting these experiences in books and instructional materials, publishers are effectively whitewashing history and preventing young people from understanding the complexities of the criminal justice system and the role it plays in perpetuating social inequality.

Additionally, the school-to-prison pipeline begins with policies and practices that under-resource and hyper-surveil youth both in and out of schools. Children are exposed to the carceral system through their schooling experiences, with some educational institutions resembling fortresses more than places of learning.

Both of us have similar stories of the school-to-prison pipeline that have shaped our past and future.

Alexa’s Story

Growing up in Texas, my brother and I experienced vastly different childhoods due to the environments of the schools we attended. I attended an inner-city public school with metal detectors and gang violence, while my brother went to a suburban school with a safer environment.

My brother managed to attend Mesquite High School, which was outside of the district we lived, by using a friend’s address. However, two years later when it was my turn to start high school, that option was no longer available, and I ended up attending Dallas ISD.

I’ve noticed how educational access can vary significantly, even within the same region. The early school choices we made greatly influenced our paths in terms of resources, social networks, and overall experiences.

My brother’s school was in a quiet suburb where the biggest issues were missed homework assignments and school dances. He had access to state-of-the-art facilities, caring teachers, and a supportive community. The most trouble he ever encountered was a disagreement with a classmate over the use of the school’s photo lab.

I attended a school where it seemed like the teachers were primarily focused on maintaining control. I felt like I was lost in a sea of students who were louder and needed more attention.  Despite earning straight A’s, no one ever discussed a college pathway with me and I knew I wanted to attend college as my parents instilled in us both that college was the path to success.

My brother went on to earn a college degree, while I faced incarceration at the age of 19. Reflecting on our school experiences, I see how they shaped our lives in different ways. He seemed to have more support, while I often felt lost and overlooked. The choices I made ultimately led me to prison. I sometimes wonder if attending a different high school might have better prepared me for the future. It’s a thought that lingers, but I understand that paths can take unexpected turns.

Conclusion

Understanding the carceral system is fundamental to the idea that our young people possess agency and will one day inherit the legacy of our democratic process. Every child is a future juror and voter who will make crucial decisions about policing policies that target their communities. By educating children about the carceral system, we empower them to make informed decisions and advocate for change.

It is imperative to push back against this form of censorship and demand that young people have access to a diverse range of perspectives and narratives, including those that discuss the history of the prison industrial complex.

In addressing censorship issues, it’s crucial to advocate for all types of representation and education surrounding the reality of our young students. Only by equipping young people with a comprehensive understanding of the world around them can we hope to create a more just and equitable society.

William Freeman is the higher education justice initiative manager at EdTrust and a Johns Hopkins University Bloomberg Fellow. Alexa Garza is a higher education justice initiative analyst at EdTrust and a policy analyst at EdTrust in Texas.