In a new picture book by Stonewall Award-winning author Gayle Pitman, a child tells lovingly about her nonbinary parent.
“Most mommies are girls. Most daddies are boys. But lots of parents are neither a boy nor a girl. Like my Maddy,” begins My Maddy, by Gayle Pitman (Magination Press), a gentle story told as a series of reflections by a child about her parent. The protagonist tells about their day as she observes her Maddy’s love of things that are in-between, such as a sunrise, which is neither day nor night, and a motorcycle, neither car nor bicycle. Each thing is “kind of both, and something all its own.” With a touch of humor, Maddy also loves sporks, “not a spoon or a fork, but kind of both.” The child explicitly draws the parallel at the end, noting that “Some of the best things in the world are not one thing or the other” but “entirely fantastically their own. Like my Maddy.”
Throughout the book, we also see how Maddy cares for the child, making snacks, walking her home from school, reading bedtime stories, and wishing her sweet dreams. The close relationship they share and their love for each other are clear on every page, both in Pitman’s lyrical text and in the soft illustrations by Violet Tobacco. There’s no other parent mentioned, which lets readers imagine them or not, as desired. Both the child and Maddy appear White.
It’s true, of course, that not all nonbinary parents are motorcycle-riding spork lovers who like everything in their lives to be in-between—but that’s not Pitman’s point. Rather, she’s showing young readers (and maybe their grown-ups, too) that just because something or someone isn’t categorized in a polarized way, it doesn’t have any less value—and indeed, there can be something special about being between the poles.
A detailed Note to Readers at the end, by clinical psychologist Randall Ehrbar, gives adults information and guidance on intersex, transgender, non-binary, and other gender diverse parents. Ehrbar explains that “Maddy” is used by some families “to describe a parent who is transgender or gender diverse,” but that other families may use other names, like “Baba” or “Mapa.” And while some trans people have nonbinary identities, he says, others may identify in a more binary way as men or women.
“The particular Maddy who inspired this story is a person who has an intersex condition,” he tells us, before explaining what that means. He then shifts to talk about parents who are trans and gender diverse, offering useful tips on talking about gender identity and a parent’s transition with children, though disappointingly never offering an explanation of what it means to be transgender in the first place. For families with trans parents, that may not be a problem; families and teachers using the book as allies may need to seek elsewhere for more information, though. (One place to start is the National Center for Transgender Equality’s About Transgender People resource hub.)
In the actual story, however, Maddy’s identity is never specified as intersex, transgender, or anything except “neither a boy nor a girl,” allowing nonbinary parents with a range of identities to see themselves here—and more importantly, for their children and children’s peers to see them. Pitman also deftly avoids having the child use any pronouns when referring to Maddy, again leaving room for readers to engage with the story as best suits them, whether the Maddy in their lives uses “they/them,” “xe/xir,” or other pronouns.
Nonbinary children in picture books are few and far between (one recent example is in Peanut Goes for the Gold, by Jonathan Van Ness); nonbinary parents are even rarer. Some show up in passing in Bell’s Knock Knock Birthday and The Zero Dads Club from micro-press Flamingo Rampant; the recent Plenty of Hugs, though positioned by the publisher as having a two-mom family, never uses the term “mom” and includes a masculine-of-center parent who could easily be read as a Maddy or Baba. That’s hardly enough—there’s clearly a need here, especially as nonbinary identities themselves encompass a range of further identities and expressions, each deserving of many stories. My Maddy is a joyous contribution to the genre, centering the experience of a child with a nonbinary parent while radiating love. It should find a place on many shelves.