Khaled Hosseini’s “The Kite Runner” first found me during my sophomore year. That was when I read its tender story about the lives of two Afghan boys, Amir and Hassan, their families, and their lived experiences after the collapse of the Afghan monarchy. I then encountered its bleak themes of assault, betrayal and political turmoil.

To be completely honest, I was not prepared to read some of the book’s most graphic scenes. I would be lying, though, if I said the novel did not provide incredible insight into life in the war-torn Middle East. Above all, I learned that this was a real portrayal of what thousands endured in the midst of the Afghan conflict. I stumbled upon historical events I had never learned, but should have.

It dawned on me, while reading it, why narratives like this matter. Because when it comes down to it, that’s what books are supposed to do.

Books must teach us about the unfamiliar, demanding critical thought. They beg us to think beyond our own lived experiences. Books, then, must help us hold onto history. As things stand, however, we let politicians and insecure individuals tell us that this is not what books should do. Instead, they say books should hide history, even erase it. They remind us that they can and will use book bans as a tool to conceal the fact that American history is not all revolutionary. To them, hiding a book is easier.

Other conservative leaning states have arrived at this dystopian reality too. They took action by banning thousands of books at the state level. It is not just those states though, many others have banned hundreds of books. As for Missouri, 57 books have been banned at the state level.

Those states have done bans under the premise that these books are “dangerous,” exposing children to explicit content. There are, without a doubt reasonable concerns, some banned books do fit that criterion and are actually inappropriate. But there is a larger concern, states are disproportionately banning books. The grim statistic is that nearly half of the banned books feature LGBTQ+ identities or address racism.

All that does is send us an unmistakable message that LGBTQ+ identities or hardships of discrimination are simply inappropriate. That they are not worthy of discussion, not worthy of being taught. That, once again, history was never that terrible in the United States.

What is even more tragic is that we then tell students and children who experience discrimination firsthand, simply because they are LGBTQ+ or a different race, that they are inappropriate. That their stories do not matter. That they should feel shame they do not deserve.

What is absolutely certain is that books do not disappear so easily. A banned story still tenaciously holds a story. It is not an easy endeavor to censor the truth. Time has repeatedly shown that society opposes stories like “To Kill a Mockingbird” or “The Bluest Eye.” Books that matter and enlighten the youth. No matter how often they are challenged, these books still prove to be a necessary tool, to show a crucial perspective of history.

Remarkably, “The Kite Runner” remains on shelves and in backpacks, despite being one of the most relentlessly challenged and banned books in the country. Book bans will never work. If you tell a child a book contains something unfamiliar or forbidden, they will be undeniably drawn to it.

If anything, they make the banned books more powerful, and more necessary. Undoubtedly, the stories we are not supposed to read are often the ones we need the most.