For children of a certain generation, the library was a refuge and a sanctuary.

I count myself among that generation. I spent countless hours in our local public library. I perused all corners of it -- even the ones that made no sense at the time.

I took my own children to the library frequently when they were young, hoping to foster a similar connection to this place. When they checked out books, I would glance at the titles, but I never worried much about the reading material they could access at the library. If I wanted to look at it, it was right there in front of me.

I was far more concerned about the digital material they could access through their phones that I couldn't easily see. Tech companies have profited wildly from children's and teens' increased use of their devices and platforms. Children are more likely to be exposed to graphic, violent, pornographic and damaging content through these devices and websites -- and unlike a book or magazine that parents can see with their own eyes, we can't monitor every screen our child encounters.

As a parent, I have long wanted lawmakers to enact stronger regulations on Big Tech companies, especially in how they market to, and collect data about, children. I wanted better protections for tech consumers of all ages. But for years, Congress failed to regulate these companies, and they became even more powerful. The Democrats didn't take action, and neither did the Republicans when they were in control.

But somehow, libraries have now emerged as the biggest informational threat to children.

Missouri's Secretary of State Jay Ashcroft has proposed new rules that would block state funding for public libraries that offer books containing "non-age-appropriate materials." Anyone can challenge access to any book under Ashcroft's rules. Missouri libraries that are found to violate the rules would lose state funding -- taxpayer support. The proposal forbids the use of state library funding for any materials that "appeal to the prurient interest of any minor."

This is so utterly bizarre, given how children actually look for and consume information.

Once upon a time, Republicans would have argued that it was a parent's responsibility to monitor what books their child read at a public library. Certainly, it was not the job of the state to ban books for an entire community. But now, alleged conservative Ashcroft is pushing for the state to be able to shut down literal bastions of free speech and independent thought by threatening their funding over "age-appropriate" books.

Any parent who thinks a library presents a risk of salacious material for their child hasn't spent much time on the internet.

Retired teacher John Samuel Tieman of University City, Missouri, who taught English and history for 40 years, recently wrote a column for international news site axar.az about Ashcroft's proposed rules. In it, he argues that "parents should supervise what their children read, but no one should censor what the community reads."

This idea is foundational to what living in a free and open society means. Ashcroft threatening public libraries has nothing to do with protecting children and everything to do with furthering his political ambitions. Threatening to shut down a library, which ought to be a sacred place of knowledge and ideas, is perverse in a free society.

For those who think these types of rules won't actually lead to the most draconian scenarios, consider that in Missouri, a girl who is raped is now legally mandated to bear her rapist's child.

That's what happens when we think the worst outcomes can't actually occur.

In his column, Tieman posed a question to Ashcroft and Republicans who support him: "Burn any good books lately?"

I wish it were hyperbole.

Having gone through the college application process twice in as many years, I feel compelled to warn parents: Things have changed dramatically since we applied to schools.

Back in the day, I applied to two private universities and had my test scores and transcript sent to the flagship public institution in my state. That was enough back then to be offered admission and a scholarship to the state school. My son, who has also applied to this same state university, had to complete a detailed common application, along with several supplemental essays. Prospective students now apply to an average of six colleges. It’s a lot more competitive and a ton more work than it used to be.

I’ve learned some things I wish I had known earlier in the game. For parents and students who still face this gantlet, here are my best tips to make this time a little less stressful than it tends to be:

1. Start early. Begin creating a list of colleges in the summer before your senior year. Around this time, start brainstorming a few essay ideas for your personal statement. The fall semester of senior year is a busy time for students. The earlier you start, the less stress you experience leading up to the deadlines.

2. Get ready to write. One of the biggest changes I’ve noticed is the amount of writing required for applications. Many selective schools require supplemental essays and short-answer responses, in addition to the personal statement. Applying for scholarships requires even more essays. Try doing a five-minute free write for each of the questions to deal with writer's block.

3. Love your safety school. It’s important to have at least one backup school you know you will be accepted to that you would be happy attending. While the most elite colleges have slashed their admission rates to low single digits, the majority of colleges still accept most students. Find at least one among this group and focus on the reasons you would enjoy going there.

4. Expect some parental involvement. Most public school counselors are responsible for so many students that they don’t have the time to offer much individualized help. Ask a parent or guardian to review or proofread essays and every section of the common application before it's submitted.

5. Ask teachers for recommendations early. Some are swamped with requests and have to set cutoff dates so they have enough time to write all the letters.

6. Learn the lingo. There are so many different types of admission: early decision, early action, early-action restricted, single-choice early action, regular decision and rolling admission. Unless you are absolutely committed to one school, use early action, regular or rolling admission.

7. Undecided is fine. It’s OK if you don't know exactly what you want to study, what career you want to pursue or even where you really want to go to college. Unless you are applying to a highly specialized program, writing an essay about one area of interest or checking the box for a major does not mean you are locked in. Many students figure out the answers to these questions along the way or explore a new career path after graduation.

8. Have a response ready. Expect people to start asking where you are going to college before you’ve even submitted a single application. It’s important for parents to respect their kids' privacy. Ask what information they are comfortable sharing and have a standard response.

9. Money matters. Be frank about what you can afford. Be realistic about loans and what it means to borrow large sums of money for an undergraduate degree, especially if you plan to major in a field with lower starting salaries.

10. Make a calendar. With so many deadlines, including those for financial aid forms like the FAFSA and CSS, create a calendar and share the deadlines with your parents. Break the application process down into smaller steps, such as filling out general information, creating a resume, starting an activities list, brainstorming the personal essay, asking for recommendations and compiling supplemental essays. There's a lot of demographics and information required by each college even when using the common app.

11. Normalize rejection. Rejection is to be expected with far more students applying to more colleges. Acceptance rates at highly selective schools are lower than they've ever been. Rejection should be a normal and expected part of the process. Colleges turn away many talented students, and some of the criteria are entirely out of your control.

When McKenzie Smart graduated from high school seven years ago, she knew she wanted to become a massage therapist.

She enrolled at Salon Professional Academy in Missouri's St. Charles County to earn her certification. Smart, 18 at the time, discovered it would cost around $17,000 for the nine-month course. So, like more than half of American students, she financed her education with student loans.

"I was told the banks would give me this much," she said. "I would have a fixed interest rate. That's all I understood about it."

Smart, 25, now works as a massage therapist -- a profession with an average annual salary of around $41,000 in Missouri -- and has consistently paid the $200 monthly installments for six and a half years. Even through the pandemic.

She was thrilled to discover that under President Joe Biden's student loan forgiveness plan -- which would cancel up to $20,000 in student debt, helping millions of Americans -- she would be eligible to have $4,000 of her remaining $12,000 debt forgiven. She applied for the program in October, but hasn't heard back yet.

On Nov. 14, a federal appeals court temporarily blocked the program, issuing a nationwide injunction against it. Six Republican-led states, including Missouri, challenged the plan, and a federal district judge in Texas also struck it down.

As the legal fight about the program's constitutionality plays out, there's a more fundamental question to be answered: Is student loan forgiveness fair?

Critics of the plan argue that this type of "handout" is unfair to those who have paid off their educational loans and to those who didn't take any to begin with. I can speak to this from personal experience.

I grew up in a working-class immigrant family, so I knew I would need loans to finance my education. I graduated in the late '90s with even more debt than Smart had. Then I took on still more debt for an expensive graduate school program.

In today's dollars, my total student loan debt would be more than $90,000. Since you are reading this column, you know I didn't enter a lucrative career.

Over many years, I paid off those loans -- but I also vowed to do everything I could to prevent my children from having to take on similar financial burdens for their education. I know what it's like to make sacrifices -- both to pay off my own debt and to save enough money to avoid that situation for my children.

Because of these experiences, I support easing the burden of student loans.

My generation, and those before it, paid significantly less for college than today's students do. In the 1970-71 academic year, the average in-state tuition and fees for one year at a public university was $394, according to the National Center for Education Statistics. At that time, public universities received more of their funding from local and state taxpayers, which lawmakers supported because having an educated workforce was in the best interest of economic growth. As a result, it was entirely possible to work your way through college.

Now, public universities get much less of their budgets from state funding. By the 2020-21 academic year, the average in-state tuition and fees for one year had climbed to $10,560 -- an increase of 2,580%. It's unfair that previous generations had access to affordable higher education that current and future generations do not.

There are many examples of far greater taxpayer "handouts" -– banking and airline industry bailouts, corporate welfare, trillion-dollar tax cuts, subsidies for massive corporate farms -- that almost exclusively benefit our country's wealthiest people and companies. In fact, some PPP loans given to millionaires during the pandemic have already been forgiven.

Why do we only hear about "fairness" when low- or middle-class people might benefit?

My guess is that it's because most of us don't compare ourselves to the wealthy, whom we know benefit from the system, but rather to our neighbors. And some of us don't want a neighbor to get a benefit we didn't get. That can be attributed to human nature, but it's not really about fairness.

Fairness involves reforming the system so that getting an education doesn't mean mortgaging your future. Fairness means that graduates who commit to work in fields of public service -- such as teaching, where there are critical shortages -- should not carry the burden of student debt. Fairness means capping interest on educational loans.

Students who make payments for 15 or 20 years end up paying far more than what they borrowed. Forgiving some of that debt based on people's income is more than fair.

Passing on a burden to future generations simply because we struggled through it ourselves doesn't further the cause of fairness.

It simply continues a broken and vicious cycle.