A new middle-grade book, just released today, is told through a series of letters from a 10-year-old girl with two moms to her soon-to-be-born sibling, during a momentous year for both marriage equality and her favorite basketball team.
Penelope “Penny” Bach, the protagonist of Joanne Rocklin’s Love, Penelope, has just learned one of her moms is pregnant, and starts writing letters to her in utero sibling, explaining their family, her friendships, her favorite basketball team (the Golden State Warriors), and more about her life. It’s a fun romp through the world of a fifth-grader, although Penny’s somewhat digressive style, while entertaining, at times makes it hard for the plot to emerge.
In the afterward, Rocklin explains that she was inspired to write this story after noting the conjunction of the Warrior’s NBA Championship win (June 16, 2015); the parade in Oakland, California, to celebrate it (June 19, 2015), and the U.S. Supreme Court decision on marriage equality (June 26, 2015). But this isn’t really a story about marriage equality, although it comes up several times as a topic of interest for the family, and Penny eventually has a very strong opinion about its impact on them. (Rocklin also notably references real-life lawyer and lesbian mom Mary Bonauto of GLAD, who argued the case in front of the Court.)
I just wish that Rocklin had mentioned some of the people (activists, plaintiffs, legislators) other than lawyers who helped in the marriage equality win. (In her defense, she’s focusing on the Court decision, but this feels like a narrow view of the whole topic.) I also don’t like her phrasing, “The Supreme Court has voted to end the ban of same-sex marriage across the country.” This could convey (especially to children) that civil rights can be voted on—a sore point for marriage-equality advocates who faced ballot initiatives in their states. Yes, Court rulings are based on a majority, so in some sense, the justices “voted”—but “ruled” would avoid the confusion.
Still, while marriage equality is certainly an important part of Penny’s story, more time is devoted to regular updates about the Warriors’ progress through their season, her relationships with her friends Gabby and Hazel, a school project, and her search for relatives on her biological mother’s side of the family.
And Rocklin has given us a rare book in which the child of an LGBTQ parent is awaiting a new sibling. In one nice scene, the pending arrival of that sibling leads Penny and two friends to share what they know about “the Facts of Life.” One friend explains the penis-vagina “Facts” that she knows, and Penny helpfully offers a simple but accurate description of two women using a sperm donor and a syringe. This, plus Penny’s deft handling of an uninformed comment from a friend about her own romantic inclinations (“Parents don’t teach you who to love, silly!”) will likely be invaluable supports for children of two moms (and informative for their peers).
Penny’s growing awareness of social injustices—both homophobia and racial injustice—also form an ongoing theme. In one scene, Gabby’s brother, who is Black, is pulled over by a police officer for speeding, when he wasn’t. Gabby tells Penny that Black people learn not only how to operate a car, but also how to be calm and polite if stopped by a cop, and even to say “Officer, please don’t shoot.” That’s an important point, though it’s not clear from the text who teaches them this. A child might infer that Black people take a special section of driver’s ed in school. Still, I like that Rocklin has Penny initially be insensitive about the situation, but then to realize it came from her own fear of talking about “bad things” like racism. It introduces the idea that White people need to get over our hangups and start talking about racism in order to dismantle it.
Race and ethnicity come up, too, through the school project in which Penny must explore her family’s heritage. Penny is White, but her nonbiological mother Sammy is half Ohlone, the Native American people from what is now Northern California. Penny learns of their oppression by White people while she also grapples with guilt over claiming to be descended from the Ohlone herself (since both her biological parents were orphans and she doesn’t know their heritage). The project ultimately serves as a vehicle for her to get to know her Ohlone relatives and their history better.
Homophobia rears its head in the story through Hazel’s parents, who won’t let their daughter sleep over at Penny’s because she has two moms. I love how she shows both Penny and Hazel trying to find the language and courage to deal with the situation (though I wish that she had named and defined the word “homophobic” as she did “racist”). Still, this is one thread of many and not the core of the tale.
One other quibble is that in the list of resources at the end, Rocklin mentions COLAGE, PFLAG, and Our Family Coalition, all fine organizations, but omits Family Equality Council, the national organization for LGBTQ parents and our children. That’s an unfortunate oversight.
Despite all of the social justice themes, the book never feels preachy. It feels busy, however, and one might have hoped for fewer subplots and the deeper development of others. Still, it is an entertaining read with many insights into friendship and family. Lucy Knisley’s illustrations add fun without making it feel like a picture book or graphic novel. Love, Penelope most importantly offers language and explanation about two-mom families and family creation that many will appreciate, in a story that neither focuses on nor avoids queer “issues.”
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