FISHERS, Ind. — REAL News Central Indiana has learned the Director of Youth Services for Hamilton Eastern Public Libraries (HEPL) has been one of the people responsible for pushing sexual content to children within the library system. Chaise Carter, who uses “They/Them” pronouns on all of his social media accounts, has been proud about pushing the content onto children as well as vocally supportive about allowing kids to read whatever they’d like, regardless of age appropriateness.
In a post on his Twitter page, Carter put up a picture of a display for teens that he designed and set up. The display contains several books that contain graphic descriptions of sex and profanity, including History is All You Left Me, a novel which has multiple descriptions of minor boys having sex with eachother.
“New teen display while our teen librarian is out! It’s safe to say that books by @ShaunieDarko consistently make me ugly cry.” Carter says in the post with the picture of the display and books. (See excerpts from those books at the bottom of the story)
In another post to his Twitter page, Carter supports giving children any book they want despite the age appropriateness for children. The post includes a written discussion between a homosexual librarian and a 5th grade child in which the child asks the librarian if a book is appropriate for 5th grade children.
“Kid: Is this book for 5th graders? Me: Are you a 5th grader? Kid: *nods* Me: Is that a book you want to read? Kid: *nods* Me: Then yes! Kid: Really? Me: You can read any book you want, no matter what grade you’re in! Kid: Oh my God, I need to get more books!”
Carter’s social media accounts are also full of social commentary regarding a whole host of leftist issues, including pushing anti-2nd amendment narratives, pro-abortion and pushing Critical Race Theory initiatives.
RNCI’s investigation into the Director of Youth Services comes as a new conservative Library Board continues to face backlash following a policy it initiated late last year that moves inappropriate books from children’s sections to the adult areas of the library.
DISPLAY WITH SEXUAL BOOKS FOR KIDS
An RNCI search of the books included in the “teen display” created by Carter found the following:
History is All You Left Me, by Adam Silvera
Theo stops, and we breathe. “Do you want to . . . ?” “Want to . . . what?” This could seriously mean a thousand things: Do I want to put away the puzzle and take our kissing to the bed? Do I want to get completely naked, hurling my boxers across the room and have sex with him? Do I want to keep it simple, maybe let him jerk me off and I do the same for him?
I roll off of him because he’s on the floor, and we both know from past sleepovers that it’s not a comfortable floor to spend the night on. It is how we fell into our system where we both slept in each other’s beds, heads facing feet, snuggled up in our own blankets. But we don’t have to do that anymore. I stand and close the door, even though my parents are both out shopping for Theo’s sister’s birthday barbeque this week. I nod. “Let’s practice.” Something I’ve never considered about my first time: it’s the middle of the day. I always thought this was an evening thing, something you do and go to bed afterward, maybe watch some TV if you’re not too wiped out. But my parents are supposed to be out for another couple of hours. My mom and dad are both very particular about what they’re looking for when they’re shopping. Theo and I have enough time to get our act together— maybe even get our act together twice if the first time goes well, or, you know, ends early.
I sit down beside Theo, who immediately holds my hand and kisses me. We lie down. When our shirts finally do come off, it’s different from all the times we’ve gone to the beach, since we never held each other shirtless. “Should we take off our pants at a countdown from three?” “How about four?” Theo smiles. “Right.” “Four . . .” I unzip his jeans while he untangles the knots of my pajamas. “Three . . .” I’m slowly sliding out of my own pajamas, bringing my boxers down too. I wait to make sure Theo is doing
the same with his jeans and Tetris briefs before I commit. But he’s committed, too. “Two . . . One.” And just like that, we’re naked in my bed, our clothes at our feet.
It’s weird how it’s nothing like I thought it would be from the countless hours of porn watching I’ve clocked.
His fingers rake my lower back as he pulls me so close to him our chests are pressed together, hearts hammering against one another. I push him backward, and he probably thinks I’m done, that I’ve come to my senses or something, but I take off my shirt and send it sailing across the room. I’m used to seeing a smile when reaching this stage in bed, a smile because someone is excited to be doing this with me, but Jackson must be struggling with this, except not enough that he can stop himself from pulling off his own shirt and dropping it on the bed. “Where are your condoms?” Jackson manages to reach into his bedside drawer. “Should I turn off the lights?” “Nope.” I want you to watch me have sex with your boyfriend.
Tyler Johnson was Here, by Jay Coles
133 F-words, 7 occurrences of the n-word (with an ‘a’ on the end).
In seconds, our skin is touching, bare bodies showing, chests heaving, and heat waving in between us. We’re pressed so close together I damn near need a condom. Then we are all hands and moans, and everything feels electrically charged, raging at full speed. She doesn’t care where her hands go, and neither do I. She reaches into a box underneath her bed and comes up with a condom. “Just to be on the safe side,” she says, “put this on.” I bite open the package and slip it on after reading the back of it for directions. “Are you sure?” I ask her. She smiles and nods. “Yeah.” Everything picks up to full speed.Our bodies touch and collide. And we are one. Feeling each other through and through. I kiss her on the neck, and she lets out a moan that sends me kissing her. I look at her face and her expression is just fucking… everything, her eyes closed and her teeth making imprints on her bottom lip. And suddenly, I can almost feel all the layers that I have grown over my own purity stripping away. I feel them peel faster, the faster things move, the further things go.
The How & The Why, by Cynthia Hand
It was my first time, though, that first time with Dawson. It was a few weeks later, on Christmas break, when most of the students were back home and the dorms were perfectly quiet. And we did use protection, that first time. Or at least I thought we did. I asked, “Uh, do you have a condom?” and he said, “Sure,” like I’d asked him to get me a glass of lemonade or something, like he was being a good host, and then he put one on. But when it was over, the condom wasn’t on anymore. And I was too busy trying to understand my own body, the way it had hurt (it hurt more than I expected it to, although my friends warned me it would hurt), how his bare chest felt against mine and the roughness of his hairy legs tangled with my legs, a whole new world of sensations, to ask him about the missing condom.
Love Letter to the Dead, by Ava Dellaira
So I went inside and found Natalie and Hannah in the bedroom. They were kissing again. Or more like making out, really. Their shirts were still off and their wet hair was stuck to their heads. When I opened the door, they didn’t notice for a minute. Hannah saw me first. She jumped off Natalie and started laughing. Natalie said, “We were just cold. We were trying to get warm.” “Come on, you can, too,” Hannah said.
And then I got this feeling that I needed to be so much closer to his body. I wanted our skin to stop keeping us apart. So I kissed him harder, and he kissed me harder, and my clothes came partway off, and he touched me everywhere. It was then that all of the sad things inside of me turned into hungry things.
Soon he had my shirt off, and he had his hands up my skirt, and everything felt confusing. I wanted him to love me. I wanted to be a light. So I told my brain to be quiet. I told my brain to just go somewhere else. And I went. I went somewhere I didn’t mean to go. I went back to May, when we were kids.
At school this morning, everyone knew about Natalie and Hannah kissing at the party. I saw Hannah walking down the hall, and one of the soccer boys called out, “Yo, wanna have a threesome?” His friend said, “Four boobies are better than two.” I told them to shut up, and I tried to go over to Hannah, but she turned and rushed the other way.
At the Edge of the Universe, by Shaun Huthinson
Calvin didn’t smile; he seemed bored by the conversation. Like rather than play video games or watch TV or scour the web for porn to fill his empty hours like a normal person, he crunched complicated math problems.
He licks his lips, leans over, and kisses me. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, so I close my eyes and push my mouth against his. The whole thing only lasts a couple of seconds, but a gentle electric current runs through my skin, and I feel a pleasant stirring in my groin that I like but don’t understand.
Well, I mean, when you’re into it, when you’re naked and kissing and doing all that stuff, it seems normal and awesome. But then, after, when you’re sweaty and sticky and exhausted, it’s like you just spent an hour in some bizarro world where it’s totally natural to stick your mouth in places you wouldn’t stick it under regular conditions.” Lua might not remember, but he’d been equally inquisitive the night after Tommy and I slept together the first time. Lua had practically shoved metal slivers under my fingernails to force me to reveal the tawdry particulars. “Calvin laughed when he . . .” I mimed an explosion. “You know.” “He laughed?” “Like a crazy person.” “Is that normal? Are you sure you did it right?” I shrugged. “I hope so.” Lua nodded knowingly. “Jaime was all ‘don’t stop, don’t stop,’ and then he’d come and freak out if I even looked at his dick.” “Hey, it’s sensitive down there.” “Yeah, well, Jaime was a little too sensitive,” Lua said. “Most of the time I had to wait for him to leave so I could finish my business alone. You guys have it so easy. A couple of tugs and you’re done. For me, getting off feels like cracking a safe. Sure, I can let someone drill the lock and hope they pop it, but it usually takes time and finesse to do the job properly.”
My lips were raw by the time we disentangled. All we’d done was kiss, but it had felt more intimate than trading blowjobs in the car on New Year’s Eve.
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