An earnest book by a mother, based on her child’s experiences (and with him listed as an ancillary author), this story offers needed Indigenous and Two-Spirit representation but could have explained some things better.
The story starts at Phoenix’s birth, when his mother smudged the sick infant with the four traditional medicines to help him get better. We see the love she and his brother have for him. At home, as he grows older, he loved to play with dolls and to use a towel to pretend he had long hair. He took ballet lessons and loved to dance at Pow Wows. He didn’t make friends with children who liked hockey, trucks, and bulldozers, but rather those who also liked dolls and dancing. Sometimes other kids made fun of him “because he didn’t act like the rest of the boys.”
His mother explains that it takes courage to be yourself, and his brother tries to protect him, but “Phoenix still felt sad.” He stops dancing and playing with dolls.
He eventually tells his mother and brother that he was different and that he was gay. They embrace him and say they’ll always love him. Unfortunately, author Marty Wilson-Trudeau never tells readers what “gay” means—and given that Phoenix’s differences have been explained as ones of gender expression, there’s room for confusion here for young readers. Does being gay mean liking dolls and dancing? It may have been true for the real Phoenix, but other readers might not understand that it is not always the case.
Phoenix’s mother then explains that in their Anishinaabe culture, there are Two Spirit people, Niizh Manidoowag, “who have both girl and boy spirits.” She tells him he’s “extra special because you think and feel like both boys and girls.” Such people are greatly respected in their communities. Again, there is room for confusion here, since we’ve seen Phoenix liking traditionally “girl” things, not “boy” things. Why then, does his mother tell him he thinks and feels like both? (I am in no way criticizing the real Phoenix’s identity; merely the way it is conveyed to readers through the limited text of the book.)
Her explanation, however, buoys Phoenix, who starts playing with his dolls and dancing again. With his newfound pride in being two Spirit, he doesn’t feel as hurt by the other children’s remarks anymore, and now has friends who accept him as he is (although we never see them, but are simply told this).
This is a sweet-hearted story with warm illustrations by Megan Kyak-Monteith and adds to the small but growing number of LGBTQ-inclusive kids’ books with Indigenous protagonists. For Indigenous, Two-Spirit children, it offers needed representation. It runs the risk of confusion, however, about what it means to be gay and what it means to be Two Spirit. As Indian Country Today has noted, “A Two Spirit person may be gay, but a gay person is not necessarily Two Spirit.” The book never tells us the differences. The story would be best read with an adult who can do so.
(I have followed the book’s usage of male pronouns for Phoenix throughout.)
