Powerfully told and gorgeously illustrated, these are some of my favorite recent picture book biographies of Black queer Americans (including an upcoming one about Marsha P. Johnson that isn’t out quite yet but is so good I had to add it in).
Click titles or images for full reviews, and filter my Database of LGBTQ Family Books by the “Biography” and “Black protagonist/family” tags (or just click this link) for some older titles as well as middle grade ones (and anything published after this post).
I’ll note also, as I’ve done before, that even though the number is slowly growing, we could still use even more picture book biographies of Black LGBTQ people that show both the Black and the queer aspects of their identities. It’s shocking to me that there is not yet one of Audre Lorde, for example. There are many other figures, too, both historical and contemporary, whose lives could inspire and inform young people today. I urge authors and publishers to take action here.
One Day in June, by Tourmaline, illustrated by Charlot Kristensen (G. P. Putnam & Sons). Tourmaline, whom actor Janet Mock has called “the preeminent and foremost scholar on Marsha P. Johnson,” has created a lively, lyrical, and evocative book about the trans icon that isn’t as much a narration of the events in her life as it is the reminiscences of an old friend. It’s an approach that emphasizes Johnson’s significance and impact, showing her acts of kindness and infectious happiness as she moves through her neighborhood. This is “a story inspired by” Johnson’s life rather than a biography per se—but for readers of the target age group, I think biographical details are less important than knowing about the boundless spirit, self-confidence, and belief in human connection that make Johnson worth remembering. Tourmaline conveys that exceptionally well, creating a book of Black trans (and even broader) joy to keep us moving forward, even as we look to the icons of our past. (The book comes out May 20, 2025, but is available for preorder.)
What I Must Tell the World: How Lorraine Hansberry Found Her Voice, by Jay Leslie, illustrated by Loveis Wise (Zando). When Lorraine Hansberry was a child, her parents won a landmark U.S. Supreme Court case against housing discrimination, and taught her, “Our stories can change the world.” Inspired by the many prominent Black leaders drawn to her parents’ orbit, Hansberry sought to find her own voice as a playwright. This biography recognizes and celebrates both Hansberry’s Black and queer identities, showing how they shaped her and her work. The illustrations are bold and dynamic, sometimes giving us glimpses of Hansberry’s life and other times showing the pages and thoughts swirling in her head. The book offers a compelling case for the power of stories—a point reinforced by being a very good story in itself.
Glenn Burke, Game Changer, by Phil Bilder, illustrated by Daniel J. O’Brien (Farrar, Straus and Giroux). Burke, while not widely known today, was the first openly gay player in Major League Baseball and co-inventor of the high five. Bildner, whose earlier middle-grade novel A High Five for Glenn Burke is about a gay boy inspired by Burke, knows how to write action, and his punchy sentences give verve to Burke’s on-field play. Bildner also gives readers an unflinching but age-appropriate look at Burke’s later struggles, including the homophobia he encountered, how he “got into trouble with drugs and the law,” the car accident that shattered his leg, and his death from an AIDS-related illness at age 42. It is a compelling book that touches on some tough topics with thoughtfulness while celebrating the life of a changemaker.
Go Tell It: How James Baldwin Became a Writer, by Quartez Harris, illustrated by Gordon C. James (Little, Brown). “The first time James Baldwin read a book, the words clung to him like glitter”—an evocative beginning to this biography of the famed author and poet. Harris beautifully evokes the power of Baldwin’s own words, while Caldecott Honor–winning illustrator James’s lush oil images offer dynamic snapshots of Baldwin’s life, often set at angles that immerse the reader in the scene, and sometimes with words themselves spilling across the pages. It’s an impressionistic biography that focuses on Baldwin’s earlier years and his development as a writer.
Jimmy’s Rhythm & Blues: The Extraordinary Life of James Baldwin, by Michelle Meadows, illustrated by Jamiel Law (Harper Collins). This blank verse biography honors Baldwin’s legacy in the rhythm of its text, and offers young readers just enough detail to be informative without overwhelming. It looks at Baldwin’s life from his childhood in Harlem through his outspoken and fearless work as a writer, and includes his romantic relationship with Swiss painter Lucien Happersberger. The warm, evocative illustrations are the perfect complement to the words.
A Song for the Unsung: Bayard Rustin, the Man Behind the 1963 March on Washington, by Carole Boston Weatherford and Rob Sanders, illustrated by Byron McCray (Henry Holt). What happens when a Coretta Scott King Author Honoree, two-time NAACP Image Award winner, and three-time Caldecott Honoree teams up with the critically acclaimed author of several LGBTQ picture-book biographies? Good things. This testament to Rustin and his work not only conveys the story of his life from childhood but also helps readers emotionally connect with Rustin and the spirit of the era. Each spread includes suggestions for songs to sing, all drawn from the Civil Rights movement and Black spirituals. It’s an interactive approach to bring readers into the story. The book sits at the older end of the picture book age range for the amount of text and complexity of vocabulary (“committed,” “orchestrated,” etc.) but nevertheless feels clear and understandable.
Unstoppable: How Bayard Rustin Organized the 1963 March on Washington, by Michael G. Long, illustrated by Bea Jackson (Little Bee). “Bayard Rustin was a troublemaker,” but this was for a good reason, explains this biography: to change the unfair laws and customs that kept Black people from freedom. And although some White politicians opposed the civil rights movement and attacked Rustin for being gay, and civil rights leaders worried that these attacks would harm the movement, “Bayard was proud of who he was—Black, gay, and an activist for peace.” The book takes a more straightforward approach to his life than the evocative A Song for the Unsung, but is an informative, intersectional, and inspiring look at Rustin’s life and significance; readers will get something different but important from each volume.