A well-meaning story about a gender-creative child, told through the eyes of his sibling, Riley Can’t Stop Crying unfortunately never offers a glimpse of Riley’s own thoughts.
Regina’s younger brother is four years old and can’t stop crying. Regina and her dad try to cheer Riley up, but nothing seems to work. (There is no mom in the story, only a reference at the end to the fact that sometimes Regina misses her.) When a child at school teases Regina about being fat, and her dad teaches her a lesson about body positivity, she wonders, “Did Riley have a body that felt comfortable to him?” She answers, “When I looked at him, I thought he did,” but we don’t hear from Riley directly. Later, Regina asks Riley if he likes his clothes, and “he didn’t know.” They browse clothes online together, and Riley decides he likes “overalls, cowboy books, skirts and baseball shirts.” Regina and her dad decide to order Riley the things he likes, though at first, the dad protests that skirts are for girls, not boys. Regina points out that she “often wore pants just like his and Riley’s,” and the dad concedes.
Regina similarly asks Riley to select from all of their combined toys, and Riley picks out a variety that cross traditional gender boundaries, including both a rainbow pony and a toolbox. Riley seems happy with the new clothes and toys, and starts wearing his new clothes to school, though “he didn’t look like the other boys.” The father is supportive, and is pointedly “extra nice” to the people who stare at them.
Although Riley is happier, he still “cries sometimes,” Regina tells us, noting, “I think this is because we can express some of ourselves on the outside, but there will always be complicated things inside ourselves that we don’t know how to show.” She and Riley have therefore “been creating little ways to take care of our hearts.”
This story tries to offer a lesson about being oneself, learning to be in touch with one’s emotions, and supporting a gender creative family member. That’s all well and good, but Riley’s lack of dialogue and inaction except when prompted by Regina make him feel like a passive object. Regina’s assessment of whether Riley feels comfortable in his body also seems presumptuous. What does Riley feel? We never really know. I’ve used he/him pronouns for Riley because that’s what the author uses, but it’s unclear what pronouns Riley would actually want to use.
I’m categorizing this as an early reader because of the length (almost 70 pages) and complexity of vocabulary, but that complexity is really even beyond early reader stage, though this feels too much like a picture book to be a middle grade title. It might work as a read-aloud, but there are other books about gender creative children where they seem more empowered.
