Scrolling through Facebook recently, I saw a post from a friend I’ve known since first grade. We’ve stayed friendly; however, we don’t share the same worldview. She’s politically conservative, supports President Donald Trump and often voices concern about the cultural direction of the country.
This time, she posted a photo of a book display at Taylor Books, ÂÒÂ×ÄÚÉä’s beloved independent bookstore. The display included LGBTQ-themed children’s titles for Pride Month: "The Gay BCs," "My Rainbow," "My Little Golden Book About Pride," "I Think We Can: A Visit to a Pride Parade," "What Was Stonewall?" and "How to Be A Real Man" (this last title featuring a bearded man in a pink tutu on the cover). Her Facebook caption read: “This is the display for children’s books at Taylor Books in downtown ÂÒÂ×ÄÚÉä, West Virginia!â€
The comments that followed: “Crazy,†“Terrible,†“So very wrong,†“Insanity rules the day.†One shared an image of a father holding a book in one hand and a shield in the other, repelling a rainbow beam away from his children at bedtime. The message: LGBTQ visibility is dangerous.
I jumped into the conversation and asked — sincerely — what was so upsetting? Was it the books’ existence? Their visibility? Or the assumption they were being marketed directly to kids?
One classmate replied: “Trey, these are children’s books talking about LGBTQ issues. Why? Children don’t have these issues unless they are influenced.â€
It’s an old claim — that LGBTQ people are “grooming†children — one that goes back decades. When I was young, gay people were often portrayed as dangerous or sick. Calling a book harmful simply because it features LGBTQ people feels like the same fear, just repackaged.
I thought we’d moved past this. Most of us know someone who is gay or trans. They’re our friends, co-workers, neighbors and family. We’ve seen marriage equality become law. For a while, it felt like America had shifted toward inclusion. But lately, I wonder: Was that a high-water mark? Are we watching the tide recede?
What struck me most wasn’t just the anger, but how easily falsehoods spread. The Facebook post made it sound like the display was in the store’s children’s section. But I went to Taylor Books. It wasn’t in the kids’ area. It was right up front — clearly a Pride Month display and it included material geared toward adults, as well.
Some commenters said they planned to call Taylor Books to complain. As someone who reported on the 1974 Kanawha County textbook controversy, I see the pattern: protests, book bans, moral panic. It’s a familiar dance.
Step-ball-change: “LGBTQ lifestyle is perverse. Children must be protected.†One-two. 
Counter-step: “I’m not immoral or a predator just because I’m gay.†Three-four.
 Pivot, spin, return to starting position. Repeat next June.
That’s what saddens me — the stuck-ness. The circularity. The refusal to open the book, literally or figuratively, and ask what’s actually inside. So much of this is just judging a book by its cover.
I support the rights of bookstores to stock whatever titles they choose. I also support a business' right to sell material that reflects the reality that many children live in LGBTQ families. I support a parent’s right to decide what books their child reads. In my opinion, there’s no indoctrination in a storybook that affirms a child’s identity or helps a classmate understand why their friend has two dads.
Over the past decade, I’ve hosted "Us & Them," a show about America’s cultural divides — race, religion, politics, guns, abortion, sex and gender. One early episode revisited my own journey with LGBTQ acceptance, including hurtful comments I made to gay people as a teen. As an adult, my goal is to ask: Can we hear each other’s humanity, even across angry lines?
This latest dust-up over kids’ books is one of those flashpoints. And we already know how it usually goes. One person posts a hot take. Like-minded people vent. Someone with a different view jumps in with a counter punch, and the comment thread turns into a social media food fight. Keyboard warriors hurl insults they’d never say face-to-face. It’s loud. It’s ugly. And it rarely, if ever, leads anywhere.
I’ll admit, there’s a part of me that sometimes wants to jump in and throw some elbows. But I know there’s no win in scoring points online. If anything, those battles make things worse.
So, I tried something different. I picked up the phone and called my childhood friend who created the Facebook post. We’ve had hard conversations before. She calls herself a staunch conservative but says she’s open to exchanging views. That’s a place to start.
It might not be flashy saying, “Help me understand why you see it that way.†But it can lead to actual conversation -- a more productive way forward. Because, if we’re ever going to break this cycle, it won’t be through owning a lib or conservative on Facebook. It’ll be through listening. Maybe listening so hard it hurts.
Trey Kay is the host of the West Virginia Public Broadcasting program "Us & Them," which is distributed in partnership with WVPB and PRX. You can hear the show on the stations of WVPB and online at WVPublic.org.
