2021 Edition
This small volume, now a board book, takes readers on an alphabetical exploration of LGBTQ terms and ideas.
The book presents a list of LGBTQ-related words, one for each letter of the alphabet, along with short verses that teach a little about each term. Some of the words are very LGBTQ-specific, like “Lesbian,” Gay,” “Bi,” “Trans,” and “Queer.” There are also queer identities such as “Intersex,” “Pan,” and “Non-binary.” Other terms relate to LGBTQ culture (about which more below), and some are words often used in relation to the LGBTQ community, but not exclusive to us, “Family,” and “Equality.” Still more are conceptual, like “Hope,” “Joy,” and “Zest.”
This 2021 edition makes some improvements by replacing and updating some of the terms from the 2019 edition. Notably:
- “Ace” and “Aro” replace “Ally.”
- “Intersex” is defined by saying, “Some are born with different parts./ Everybody and every body/ is an amazing work of art.” This is better than the earlier version that referred to boy/girl-gendered parts. (See 2019 review below.) It still doesn’t quite get at the idea that being intersex can sometimes mean simply chromosomal or hormonal differences and not differences in physical appearance, but I recognize that this is hard to capture in two short lines. To the extent that our hormones and chromosomes are “parts” of us, though, it is accurate enough.
I still question the verse for “trans,” however, although I say this as a cisgender person and hope some trans folks will weigh in. “T is for Trans,” Webb writes. “It’s a brave step to take/to live as the gender you know is innate.” The definition of a trans person, however, isn’t “someone who lives as the gender they know is innate”—cisgender people do that, too. The verse therefore doesn’t really convey what it means to be trans. With a little adult explanation, the verse can be read as a positive comment on many trans people’s lives, but it doesn’t quite get there on its own. Additionally, as I’ve heard from some trans people (and in a related way, from people with disabilities), they’re tired of being told they’re “brave” simply for existing. (See also GLAAD’s “Tips for Allies“; search for “brave” on the page.) I’ve also heard from some that they do think they’ve been brave—but as this is a point of contention, it would have been better avoided here.
Additionally, as in the first edition, all of the terms that relate to LGBTQ culture—“Drag,” “Kiki,” “Sashay,” and “Vogue”—relate only to one subculture of the LGBTQ community. I would have at the least swapped out the last three terms for more widely relatable ones. “Kindness,” “Visibility,” and “Support,” might have worked.
The illustrations are bright and cheery, if unexceptional, featuring a group of four friends with various skin tones and hair color playing together.
Webb’s book also shares (part of) a title and theme with GAYBCs: A Queer Alphabet
Note that my criticisms of Webb’s book are all about the execution, not the idea. I’m all for teaching kids LGBTQ-related terminology, and I’m happy to see many other LGBTQ-inclusive books, even for the very youngest children. Let’s just make sure to get them right.
2019 Edition
This small hardcover volume takes readers on an alphabetical exploration of LGBTQ terms and ideas—but it’s a little uneven as well as problematic in some areas.
The book presents a list of LGBTQ-related words, one for each letter of the alphabet, along with short verses that teach a little about each term. Some of the words are very LGBTQ-specific, like “Lesbian,” Gay,” “Bi,” “Trans,” and “Queer.” There are also queer identities such as “Intersex,” “Pan,” and “Non-binary.” Other terms relate to LGBTQ culture (about which more below), and some are words often used in relation to the LGBTQ community, but not exclusive to us, like “Ally,” “Family,” and “Equality.” Still more are conceptual, like “Hope,” “Joy,” and “Zest.”
The explanations of each term vary in quality. Some feel on target, like “L is for lesbian. It’s love and affection/between two special girls who share a connection.” But an “Ally” isn’t just “A friend who is there/to stand up for you with strength, love, and care,” but rather (in this context), someone who is not LGBTQ supporting an LGBTQ person. I’d therefore suggest, “A friend who is there/Though they’re different from you, they still show they care” as closer. (One other reviewer has also noted that “Asexual” or “Ace” might have been a better choice for “A,” given the range of other LGBTQ+ identities named in the book.)
I also question the verse for “trans,” although I say this as a cisgender person and hope some trans folks will weigh in. “T is for Trans,” Webb writes. “It’s a brave step to take/to live as the gender you know is innate.” The definition of a trans person, however, isn’t “someone who lives as the gender they know is innate”—cisgender people do that, too. The verse therefore doesn’t really convey what it means to be trans. With a little adult explanation, the verse can be read as a positive comment on many trans people’s lives, but it doesn’t quite get there on its own. Additionally, as I’ve heard from some trans people (and in a related way, from people with disabilities), they’re tired of being told they’re “brave” simply for existing. (See also GLAAD’s “Tips for Allies“; search for “brave” on the page.) I’ve also heard from some that they do think they’ve been brave—but as this is a point of contention, it would have been better avoided here.
Also problematic is the verse for “Intersex,” which tells us, “Some are born with the parts of both a boy and a girl; bodies are works of art.” That’s a misleading view of the range of what it means to be intersex. As the Intersex Society of North America tells us, “Intersex is a socially constructed category that reflects real biological variation,” and notes that people who are intersex exhibit a range of physical characteristics. Sometimes, an intersex condition may be chromosomal or hormonal with no visible physical manifestation. Webb’s definition unfortunately perpetuates the myth that all intersex people are hermaphrodites.
Additionally, all of the terms that relate to LGBTQ culture—“Drag,” “Kiki,” “Sashay,” and “Vogue”—relate only to one subculture of the LGBTQ community. I would have at the least swapped out the last three terms for more widely relatable ones. “Kindness,” “Visibility,” and “Support,” might have worked, with the last used to incorporate the idea of an ally, so that “A” could then be used for “Asexual.” (See note above.)
The illustrations are bright and cheery, if unexceptional, featuring a group of four friends with various skin tones and hair color playing together.
This is not the first LGBTQ alphabet book for kids. That honor belongs to ABC: A Family Alphabet Book
Webb’s book also shares (part of) a title and theme with GAYBCs: A Queer Alphabet
Note that my criticisms of Webb’s book are all about the execution, not the idea. I’m all for teaching kids LGBTQ-related terminology, and I’m happy to see many other LGBTQ-inclusive books, even for the very youngest children. Let’s just make sure to get them right.
