In a quiet corner of Louisiana, about thirty miles outside New Orleans, Kristen Luchsinger has learned that courage can be contagious. What started as a simple stand against book banning has blossomed into a movement that’s bringing together unlikely allies and showing that rural communities contain more diversity – and more acceptance – than many assume.
Two and a half years ago, Kristen joined forces with two friends she met during a political campaign after discovering attempts to remove LGBTQ-themed books from local libraries. Along with two others, they began attending meetings and created a Facebook page to protect literary freedom. What they didn’t expect was how quickly their small group would grow into a coalition spanning political parties, religions, and backgrounds.
“There are Republicans, Independents, Christians, Jews, all different religions,” Kristen explains. “We just believe in the First Amendment. We believe that books, even ones we personally don’t agree with, belong in libraries because they’re valuable to somebody.”
Threats, though, are real, and the path hasn’t been easy. Their group has faced intense opposition, including physical assault at a parish council meeting, online harassment, and property destruction. When they put up a billboard that simply read “Support Your Local Library” in rainbow colors, the billboard company received such serious threats that they had to take it down and refund the money. A sign reading “Ban Hate Not Books” was burned on someone’s property in the middle of the night.
But rather than backing down, Kristen and her allies have become more determined. They attend every meeting, document everything, and maintain a steady presence in the community. Kristen, who describes herself as middle-aged and white, uses her ability to blend in to gather information about opposition plans, ensuring her group is always prepared to respond.
The impact of their visibility has been profound. One rainy day, as hurricane weather approached, a woman pulled into Kristen’s rural driveway – an unusual occurrence in country living, and an event that raised Kristen’s hackles in case she was facing a threat. The woman had noticed Kristen’s political signs and stopped to say how much they meant to her. “I had no idea we had another person in this neighborhood that thought the way that I did,” the woman told Kristen. They hugged in the rain, laughed, and became friends. It’s just one example of how being “unapologetically who I am,” as Kristen puts it, has helped others find the courage to stand up too.
Their group’s success is particularly notable in a rural setting, where religious institutions often serve as the primary community hubs and different viewpoints can be seen as threatening. But Kristen’s coalition has shown that rural communities contain multitudes. Their Pride parade drew over 700 people in its first year. They regularly host drag shows and bingo nights. The Library Alliance they formed has become a powerful force for protecting intellectual freedom and inclusive community values.
“When you’re doing the right thing throughout history, you watched people who stood up and spoke truth to power, even if their voice shook a little,” Kristen reflects. “I’ve always admired those people that had the courage to be different. It always came at a price, but was the price worth it?”
For Kristen, the answer is clearly yes. Despite facing doxing and constant opposition, she continues to make space for dialogue while standing firm in her principles. “You may not like me, but I will always [show] respect. If we’re gonna sit down and talk, I’m not one to yell or be mean. I’m gonna make space for what you believe in, but you’re gonna have to make space for me as well.”
Kristen’s message to others in rural communities who might be afraid to speak up is simple but powerful: “There are more people in your community that feel the way that you do, even though you feel like you’re alone. When it comes from the heart, just stand up and lead, because there will be people that will join you. It’s harder in rural areas because there’s less population and we’re spread out, but your people will always find you. And you’ll find them.”
The work continues. The group is currently engaged in federal litigation to protect library board members who were illegally removed, and they remain vigilant against new attempts to restrict books or marginalize community members. They also see threats to Title IX protections that need defending. But through it all, they’re proving that rural communities can be powerful sites of progressive organizing – and that sometimes, all it takes is one person willing to be visible to help others find their courage too.
