An unlikely figure in the current culture wars, Clanchy had gained a reputation for championing her students, often sharing their poetry with her large Twitter following. Yet, she found herself thrust into the center of a contentious debate over her memoir Some Kids I Taught And What They Taught Me, which chronicles her 30-year teaching career. The book, published in 2019 and awarded the Orwell Prize for political writing in 2020, has sparked fierce backlash from identity politics advocates over language and descriptions used in the book.

The controversy began when Clanchy, in response to a critical Goodreads review, flagged it for containing what she claimed were false accusations of offensive language in her book. The review was filled with quotes that Clanchy initially denied were in the text. However, when excerpts from the book were shared on Twitter, it was revealed that these quotes were indeed accurate.

Accusations of racism, ableism, fat-shaming, and other offenses quickly emerged. Some phrases, like “almond eyes,” “chocolate-colored skin,” and “African Jonathan,” were labeled as racially insensitive. Additionally, a description of two students as being from “ASD land” was criticized as ableist. Social media erupted with anger, and Clanchy, in a statement, described the situation as “humbling,” expressing gratitude for the opportunity to reflect on her representations of people of color. She maintained, however, that the quotes had been “taken out of context.”

In a previous era, this kind of response might have calmed the waters, but the current climate was far more volatile. Critics, including writers of color such as Professor Sunny Singh, Monisha Rajesh, and Chimene Suleyman, were unsatisfied with Clanchy’s apology. They accused her of using harmful language to describe her students.

Initially, some prominent authors, like Phillip Pullman, defended Clanchy and the book. Pullman, who had praised the memoir as a “wonderful achievement,” eventually caved to the mounting pressure, issuing an apology of his own. The Royal Society of Authors, where Pullman served as President, distanced itself from him, urging writers to be mindful of the impact of their work.

Then something unexpected happened: Clanchy’s publisher, Picador, announced they were “discussing the best way to update the book for future editions.” This move, seen by many as a form of censorship, was framed as a necessary revision to meet the sensitivities of modern standards. The irony was palpable—just a year earlier, the book had been widely praised. Clanchy herself seemed somewhat resigned to the revision, saying she was “grateful” for the chance to revise the text.

While some commentators expressed concern over the dangers of censorship and the precedent this could set for artists and writers, many remained unsatisfied with the apology and the changes being made. This situation underscores the tension between artistic expression, cultural sensitivity, and the increasing pressure to conform to the shifting standards of political correctness. In a society that champions free speech, this episode raises critical questions about the limits of artistic freedom and the consequences of challenging prevailing cultural norms.