Quiet Erasure

How Vandalism at Salem Library Reflects a Larger Battle Over LGBTQ+ Representation

We get it—books being hidden or tossed in a trash bin sounds kind of picayune, right? Minor. Piffling. A bit of petty vandalism. But in Salem, Oregon, the slow erasure of LGBTQ+ stories from public libraries might be more than just an irritating nuisance—it could be part of a larger trend of quiet, targeted censorship.

Over the past year, Salem Public Library has witnessed several incidents where LGBTQ+ books have been deliberately hidden, damaged, or discarded. Copies of True You: A Gender Journey vanished into distant shelves, while Pride displays were ripped apart, and in a bizarre case, a book titled Rainbow Bridge was thrown out—likely because of the rainbow on its cover¹. These aren’t just random acts of mischief; they’re part of a nationwide wave of challenges to queer representation in public spaces, often flying under the radar.

The Salem Public Library’s struggle is part of a broader state and national trend of escalating challenges to LGBTQ+ and other marginalized content in public libraries. According to the State Library’s 2024 report, there were 63 challenges to 153 items between July 2023 and June 2024, a sharp increase from the previous year’s 46 challenges to 93 items. These challenges range from formal complaints to more covert actions like hiding, damaging, or discarding materials. One particularly egregious incident occurred at Newberg Public Library, where someone fired a BB gun at a Pride flag displayed in the window​ ²

What seems like a small uptick in numbers actually represents a disturbing rise in efforts to quietly erase queer and marginalized voices from public spaces. These challenges aren’t just about books—they’re about who gets to take up space, whose stories get told, and who is allowed to be visible in our communities.

For many of us in the LGBTQ+ community, this hits close to home. Libraries are one of the few truly public spaces where everyone can access stories that reflect their experiences. Books are more than just pages—they are a mirror, a lifeline, especially for queer youth. Imagine being that kid who finally stumbles upon a book that helps you feel seen, only to find it missing, hidden, or trashed because someone decided your story doesn’t belong on that shelf.

This quiet, insidious, subtle censorship is dangerous because it spreads quietly, attacking our visibility without making much noise. It chips away at the fragile progress we’ve fought for, trying to erase us from public spaces while hoping we don’t notice. These actions are part of a broader pattern: book bans and challenges targeting queer and BIPOC voices have surged nationwide. Oregon, though historically progressive, hasn’t been immune to this trend​. When someone hides a book about gender identity on a distant shelf or trashes a children’s book because it has the word “rainbow” in the title, they’re telling us that our stories don’t deserve to exist in public spaces, that our voices are unworthy of being heard.

When someone throws away a book because it has a rainbow on the cover, they aren’t just hiding a story—they’re trying to erase an identity. And while these acts of vandalism might seem small, they contribute to a larger effort to make queer lives invisible. If we let these quiet erasures continue, the spaces that make our stories accessible—libraries, schools, other public resources—will slowly disappear.

So yes, it might sound picayune at first. But the erasure of LGBTQ+ books from library shelves is a fight for our existence. Our stories matter, and we can’t afford to let them be quietly removed.

1. http://www.salemreporter.com/2024/09/19/salem-librarians-report-patrons-trashing-hiding-lgbtq-books-in-past-year/ ↩︎
2. https://www.kgw.com/article/news/crime/five-days-into-pride-month-shots-fired-pride-flag-newberg-public-library/283-ee62dd96-fe73-4d9b-b679-849b2f39ec54 ↩︎