I’m so excited about the plethora of LGBTQ-inclusive kids’ books coming out in the next month or so as we head into Pride! I’ll be reviewing them over the coming few weeks—let’s start with a few about drag queens and other performers.
The Hips on the Drag Queen Go Swish, Swish, Swish
, by Lil Miss Hot Mess, a founding member of Drag Queen Story Hour (Running Press), is a take on the classic children’s song “The Wheels on the Bus.” This time, hips go swish, hair goes up, and fingers go snap as a bevy of queens with diverse skin tones and hair colors dance and pose “all through the town.” Illustrations by Olga de Dios are appropriately bold and dynamic, and images of city streets and homes convey that the drag queens are a vital and vibrant part of their community. (The style of the buildings and an image of the Castro Theatre sets the book in San Francisco, but the message is universal.) It’s a simple concept, but done with color and verve.
In Auntie Uncle: Drag Queen Hero
, by Ellie Royce and illustrated by Hannah Chambers (POW!) a young boy loves his Uncle Leo, an accountant, and his Auntie Lotta, a drag queen—who are both the same person. One day at a Pride parade, Auntie Lotta saves a dog from being hit by a truck, and the mayor plans an award ceremony. Uncle Leo wants to invite many friends, but doesn’t know who should accept the award, Leo or Lotta—the friends who know one might be surprised to see the other. The boy helps craft a “fierce” look for Leo/Lotta that incorporates both aspects of his “Auntie Uncle’s” personality. All the friends applaud in a happy denouement. An introduction by Marti Gould Cummings, a drag artist and self-identified “auntie uncle” to 20 nieces and nephews, explains that “Drag is an art form that is rooted in activism and protest; a way to show the world that being different is beautiful.” The protagonist’s love for his Auntie Uncle sends a strong message to young readers that this is indeed true.
Tabitha and Magoo Dress Up Too
, by Drag Queen Story Hour founder Michelle Tea and illustrated by Ellis van der Does (Feminist Press), actually came out in February, but deserves a thematic mention here. It stars a brother-sister pair who love playing dress-up in gender creative ways—but they’re hesitant to go outside in these outfits. The drag queen Morgana then magically appears and helps them learn to celebrate being themselves, as a rolling, Seuss-ian rhyme carries the story along: “She told us that clothes aren’t for girls or for boys,/and the same goes for hobbies and colors and toys!” Morgana then takes them in a flying car to a nearby library for a diverse and fun-filled story time.
The gender-expansive message is unfailingly positive, but the book would have been improved by an afterward for adult readers. A reference to “Mama Ru” will likely go over the heads of anyone not familiar with RuPaul’s Drag Race (and it’s the families not familiar with it who may be most in need of this book’s teachings). Another page names RuPaul and other drag queens—Hot Mess, Flawless Sabrina, and more—offering a sense of drag history, but readers will have to seek elsewhere for further information about who they are and what their contributions have been. Similarly, while there are references to other LGBTQ-inclusive and gender-expansive children’s books (“Tango’s a penguin with two penguin daddies,/Oliver Button’s a star who prevails over baddies”), the full titles and authors would have been helpful for adults not in the know. Still, the book would work splendidly at an actual Drag Queen Story Hour with a reader who can explain such things—and the message that “when you are given unbridled creation,/it leads to a playful rainbow liberation” is bound to inspire.
When the protagonist of 
The One and Only Dylan St. Claire
doesn’t get cast as the star of the school play, he shows he’s a bit of a drama queen, but ultimately finds his own way to shine in this funny and engaging story by actor Kamen Edwards and illustrated by Jeffrey Ebbeler (Doubleday/Random House). The book isn’t explicitly LGBTQ inclusive, yet this story of a boy who lives to perform and is “very in touch with his emotions” is bound to resonate with many young queer thespians, among others. Although Dylan isn’t identified as queer in the text, Edwards’ bio at Amazon explains that the book is “a nostalgic re-imagining of an out and proud childhood,” and the cover flap explains, “Kamen loved to read as a child but never found a book about a boy he could relate to. He’s excited that Dylan can be that boy for today’s strong, confident, fabulous kids.” Not all queer boys are drama geeks, of course, and not all drama geeks are queer—but anyone who fits either or both categories (and even some who don’t) should love reading about Dylan’s performance adventures. Bravo!
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