A bright new book for kids takes them on an alphabetical exploration of LGBTQ terms and ideas—but it’s a little uneven as well as problematic in some areas.
The GayBCs, by first-time author M. L. Webb (Quirk Books), presents a list of LGBTQ-related words, one for each letter of the alphabet, along with short verses that teach a little about each term. Some of the words are very LGBTQ-specific, like “Lesbian,” Gay,” “Bi,” “Trans,” and “Queer.” There are also queer identities such as “Intersex,” “Pan,” and “Non-binary.” Other terms relate to LGBTQ culture (about which more below), and some are words often used in relation to the LGBTQ community, but not exclusive to us, like “Ally,” “Family,” and “Equality.” Still more are conceptual, like “Hope,” “Joy,” and “Zest.”
The explanations of each term vary in quality. Some feel on target, like “L is for lesbian. It’s love and affection/between two special girls who share a connection.” But an “Ally” isn’t just “A friend who is there/to stand up for you with strength, love, and care,” but rather (in this context), someone who is not LGBTQ supporting an LGBTQ person. I’d therefore suggest, “A friend who is there/Though they’re different from you, they still show they care” as closer. (One other reviewer has also noted that “Asexual” or “Ace” might have been a better choice for “A,” given the range of other LGBTQ+ identities named in the book.)
I also question the verse for “trans,” although I say this as a cisgender person and hope some trans folks will weigh in. “T is for Trans,” Webb writes. “It’s a brave step to take/to live as the gender you know is innate.” The definition of a trans person, however, isn’t “someone who lives as the gender they know is innate”—cisgender people do that, too. The verse therefore doesn’t really convey what it means to be trans. With a little adult explanation, the verse can be read as a positive comment on many trans people’s lives, but it doesn’t quite get there on its own. Additionally, as I’ve heard from some trans people (and in a related way, from people with disabilities), they’re tired of being told they’re “brave” simply for existing. I’ve also heard from some that they do think they’ve been brave—but as this is a point of contention, it would have been better avoided here.
Also problematic is the verse for “Intersex,” which tells us, “Some are born with the parts of both a boy and a girl; bodies are works of art.” That’s a misleading view of the range of what it means to be intersex. As the Intersex Society of North America tells us, “Intersex is a socially constructed category that reflects real biological variation,” and notes that people who are intersex exhibit a range of physical characteristics. Sometimes, an intersex condition may be chromosomal or hormonal with no visible physical manifestation. Webb’s definition unfortunately perpetuates the myth that all intersex people are hermaphrodites.
Additionally, all of the terms that relate to LGBTQ culture—“Drag,” “Kiki,” “Sashay,” and “Vogue”—relate only to one subculture of the LGBTQ community. I would have at the least swapped out the last three terms for more widely relatable ones. “Kindness,” “Visibility,” and “Support,” might have worked, with the last used to incorporate the idea of an ally, so that “A” could then be used for “Asexual.” (See note above.)
The illustrations are bright and cheery, if unexceptional, featuring a group of four friends with various skin tones and hair color playing together. Many of the pictures do little to elucidate or even relate to the definitions they are paired with, however.
This is not the first LGBTQ alphabet book for kids. That honor belongs to ABC: A Family Alphabet Book, by Bobbie Combs, illustrated by Desiree Keane and Brian Rappa (Two Lives Publishing). Published in 2000, it takes a slightly different tack, not conveying LGBTQ terminology, but using the alphabet to highlight scenes from the lives of families with same-sex parents, e.g., “B is for book. Our moms read our favorite book to us at bedtime.” To me, this approach succeeds better than trying to cram big topics into short verses. (I’d love to see an updated version that included more clearly trans and gender nonconforming characters, though.) [Update: A commenter reminded me of yet another one, M Is for Mustache: A Pride ABC Book, by Catherine Hernandez and illustrated by Marisa Firebaugh (2015), from Flamingo Rampant micro-press, which has a few queer-specific terms like “pride,” “rainbow,” and “queerspawn,” but that also includes more general words to describe the people and feelings encountered at Pride.]
Webb’s book also shares (part of) a title and theme with GAYBCs: A Queer Alphabet, by Rae Congdon (Greystone Books, 2018). Positioned by the publisher as a “cheeky, progressive adult alphabet book,” words like “kink” make this one best for older readers. Make sure you’re buying the one you want, if you want either!
Note that my criticisms of Webb’s book are all about the execution, not the idea. I’m all for teaching kids LGBTQ-related terminology, and I’m happy to see many other LGBTQ-inclusive books, even for the very youngest children. Let’s just make sure to get them right.
My favorite is “M is for Mustache” from Flamingo Rampant Press. It includes the term Queerspawn and has fantastic illustrations including race and gender diversity.
Oh, yes! That’s a good one, too. I’ll update my post to include it. Thanks for the reminder!