Recently, I attended a book club at a book store in my community. We read Monster: A Fan’s Dilemma by Claire Dederer. In it, the author asks how and if we should separate the art from the artist. The book was so poorly written and organized that I did not finish, but one thing stood out to me: the opening example of a celebrity monster was Roman Polanski, who drugged and raped a thirteen-year-old girl. Dederer spends a lot of time on this story.

Later chapters look at other celebrity monsters, as she labels them, include J.K. Rowling. The author says little about Rowling (though she writes extensively about herself). During the book club, I mentioned that I knew people labeled Rowling transphobic because of an article that used the phrase “people with uteruses,” to which Rowling replied, “you mean women?” I stated at book club that I thought it strange that Dederer would compare Polanski and Rowling.

I added that I sort of understand why Rowling might say such a thing. For instance, it took me most of my life to feel okay about being a woman. I don’t mean gender identity. I mean that our culture celebrates and values men and their accomplishments, whereas women are labeled emotional, dramatic, problematic, and non-compliant. They do all the emotional labor. I once asked my cousin what’s great about being a woman, and she replied they have better intuition. I remember thinking that was such a woo woo answer and not good enough.

As I’ve embraced women as community supporters, strong individuals, and people who can make anything happen (and much of this inspiration comes from my blog friends), I’ve been unashamed of being a woman. I wondered if Rowling felt the same way because she’s older than I am and watched the fight for women’s rights.

The book club group discussed how so much of how we speak to each other is new, such as asking someone’s pronouns or respecting their choice for what they call their significant other (partner vs spouse vs husband/wife, for example). I do think we should respect everyone’s choices. If you call Nick my “partner,” I’m going say “husband” or “spouse” because that’s my preference. Another individual at the club said that she thought Rowling had donated money to anti-trans groups, and I said something like, “Oh, well she sucks then.” I have not kept up on whatever it is Rowling has said or done, as I am not invested in Harry Potter, and I don’t keep up on celebrity stories.

Somehow, the book club got onto a discussion about books that seem written to teach a lesson. I said I’m not a fan of those. One book club member asked, “Do you mean like The Hate U Give?” I said yes. The book has a message that it’s really emphasizing, but I also acknowledge that it is for a young adult audience, so perhaps that’s why. I stated that I prefer books that organically make readers think about a wide variety of issues through storytelling with characters, such as An American Marriage by Tayari Jones or If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin. I added that if I’m going to read a book that’s about a particular issue, I prefer nonfiction.

A few days later, I received an email from the book store owner, who had been standing at the counter during our book club meeting. She said she wanted to meet with me at a nearby coffee shop (and not the bookstore?). I replied it would be a while before I came back to the store and to please email me if it was something more urgent. She said she preferred to meet face to face, so of course my anxiety skyrocketed and I said I would be there ASAP.

On a Sunday afternoon, Nick and I parked our car in front of the coffee shop and turned to see the book store owner shoveling snow. She said she’d be over in a minute, so Nick and I got coffee and sat down. As we waited, the book store owner sent me a text asking if it acceptable for Nick to be there, because it was supposed to be a private conversation. Of course it was fine for him to be there, and it felt awkward that she would ask me that. Finally, she arrived to tell me that at the book club meeting, my comments made her feel “agitated” and “uncomfortable” and that I am “disparaging” to minorities and gender non-conforming individuals. Next time I come to book club, I need to keep my thoughts to myself. There was a pause during which I assumed she wanted me to reply or possibly expected me to be angry, but I simply said that I had to think about what she said. I admit I then just stared at her like “you can go now,” and she left.

Perhaps I am being overdramatic, but when someone tells me that when I come to book club I will need to keep my thoughts to myself, I interpret that as “You can still spend money here, but I don’t want you to taint the place.” And she did actually say that she need to protect the aesthetic of the store as a safe place for the Queer community. Of course, I am never going there again. I don’t believe that shutting down conversations makes for a great book store (of all places!). Nor do I appreciate that this owner focused entirely on her feelings without asking me what I was thinking or for clarification about the conversation at book club. The meeting didn’t seem well thought out from my perspective in general because I am very active at the store, attending two book clubs monthly and spending quite a bit of money. I’m even the leader and organizer of the horror book club.

I’ve already made a plan to invite the horror book club to a new location with me, though if anyone wants to continue at the bookstore, they are welcome to call the owner and ask what that will look like going forward. In my email to them, I was transparent about what happened, so they could make their own decisions. What if I am making people agitated and uncomfortable, and that I am disparaging to the minority and gender non-conforming community? I don’t want to live in a vacuum.

I also know that I am on a journey because gender identity was not part of my growing up. I constantly have questions, and of course I read a lot to get perspectives without making other people feel like they have to share their lives with me when they don’t want to. I believe I am both curious about a lot of things but also respectful.

Now, in the days after, I feel emotionally gangly, like I’ve been scolded by the community mom. My thoughts range from empowered to take new action, to feeling sad that I’ve lost a community space and group. I wasn’t even sure if I should write about this situation, but the glaring fact is that someone said I made them “uncomfortable” and reacted by censoring me, I suppose for not sharing their exact opinion, and I know that growth doesn’t happen in a comfortable place or an echo chamber.

Anyway, that’s how I, a devoted reader and former lit professor, got kicked out of a bookstore.