On the day I’m writing this, I am angry and sad and worried. And maybe a book review isn’t the place for my emotions, but this is also my final review for bookclique, and so I’m going to use it to do one small thing with my very strong feelings. On the day I’m writing this, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that “not allowing parents to opt their children out of reading storybooks that are part of an LGBTQ+ inclusive literacy curriculum in the Montgomery County Public School system burdened their religious freedom [… and] could not be justified, even by the school’s clear interest in protecting LGBTQ+ students from stigma and isolation” (PFLAG).
And so, because queer children’s and young adult literature is being targeted and lied about and limited, because trans youth in particular are suffering as a result of these limitations, because the world is on fire and we need all the beauty we can find, and because I’m angry and scared, I’m sharing three of my favorite children’s books that are so goddamned sweet and soul-filling, I get teary just thinking about what they could offer kids and their families, not to mention what they could offer this broken world we’re living in–because I suspect anyone who’s reading this understands the power books have to shape young humans into older humans who actually care about other humans instead of targeting and lying about and limiting them.
That was one very long sentence to say: Queer kids books are incredible for so many reasons and we should all read them.
All three of these books also depict non-human entities who find beauty and love in their true selves without ever mentioning queerness, so maybe they’ll still find their way into the hearts and minds of kids who need these stories (which, by the way, is ALL kids). These books are, as I see it, specifically speaking to the power of transcending gender norms.
The first is I Am Not a Fox, written by Karina Wolf and illustrated by Chuck Groenink. Luca isn’t permitted to enter the dog park because the other dogs insist he is a fox, but Luca states, emphatically, “I am not a fox.” The foxes who live in the forest nearby agree with Luca–he looks more like a dog, they say–but this leads to Luca not fitting in anywhere. A young girl finds Luca, and together they discover that many creatures–human or not–defy labels and categories–and the girl declares, “You are the most wonderful mystery I’ve ever seen” as she hugs Luca close. Luca proudly states at the end to the doggy gatekeepers, “I am not a fox. […] I’m a mystery dog. The very best kind. And you can call me Luca.” This picture book, with its soft illustrations, could easily be used as a story about identity in general–each of us defies categorization in some way–but there is something very distinctly queer about an animal that physically seems to be a fox, but who doesn’t feel like a fox, or fit in entirely with the other foxes. Luca is beyond “fox-ness” and is still loved, just as some humans are beyond girl or boy or straight or gay and still deserve love.
The second book is Not Quite Narwhal by Jessie Sima, another story of one little being not quite fitting in this category or that. Kelp is born under the sea to a group of narwhals (a group of narwhals, by the way, is called a “blessing”!), but from the sweet and playful illustrations, Kelp is very clearly a unicorn. The narwhals embrace Kelp as their own, however. When Kelp is swept away from his home, he sees in the distance creatures that look more like him. His slow journey through water and over land to reach these creatures (he’s a poor swimmer and has never walked before, after all) depicts a patient but awkward and anxious journey toward something that is a little more himself. When he finally reaches the unicorns, the illustrations remain just as playful and detailed, but many rainbows appear, and the unicorns embrace Kelp without hesitation. Kelp misses home, too, though, and is conflicted about which group to stay with (packs of unicorns are also called “blessings”!). In the end, of course, he doesn’t have to decide–the final two-page spread shows both blessings happily coexisting along the beach and Kelp dancing beneath a rainbow.
Finally, we have perhaps the most gorgeous of the three: From the Stars in the Sky to the Fish in the Sea written by Kai Cheng Thom and illustrated by both Thom and Kai Yun Ching. Here, a baby is born that “looked a little like everything. they [sic] looked VERY strange!” The baby’s mother names the child Miu Lan and sings a song, repeated throughout the text, that confirms her love for the baby no matter who Miu Lan ends up being. Miu Lan grows, shifting throughout the pages from having feathers and wings to fur and paws and more, and always feeling loved by their mother. Once Miu Lan must engage with others, however, they are ostracized and taunted and though the love remains, Miu Lan also experiences worry, sadness, and uncertainty–that is, until the other kids realize that all of Miu Lan’s wonderful iterations make them incredibly fun and interesting. The repeating song (or mantra, really) in this book is its heart–reiterating unflinching love and acceptance for Miu Lan no matter what form they take.
Each of these books speaks to the power of the “in-between”–the unveiling of systems and norms that keep us from being exactly who we are meant to be. They are stories professing love to those who exist outside of these systems and norms, and they are gentle encouragements for the people who should be keeping these young humans safe and cared for. As Sonya Renee Taylor, author of The Body Is Not an Apology, writes, “There’s something so powerful and wise about defying these structures and norms we have created out of scarcity and fear. Trans youth show us by their own divine light what’s possible for us.” Children’s books like these offer a glimpse into a different kind of world than the one we’re living in now. I hope they find their way into as many hands as possible.
