Poop jokes may be funny—but having Crohn’s disease isn’t. Somehow, however, Stonewall Award honoree Jake Maia Arlow (who has Crohn’s themself) has managed to balance these two observations to craft a novel that is both uproariously funny and yet respectful of those with the disease, while also offering universal observations about the awkwardness of puberty and middle school—and the importance of friendship, community, and family.
“Everything about being a human feels overwhelmingly embarrassing,” says twelve-year-old protagonist Al Schneider. She’d rather just be a supercomputer brain with no body.
In particular, Al is embarrassed by hurting stomach, frequent trips to the bathroom, and eventual Crohn’s diagnosis. She especially doesn’t want to talk about it with her overprotective single-by-choice mom, or even with her best friend Leo, who lives with his divorced mom in the same apartment building as Al.
She also doesn’t want to talk about the fact that she likes girls—this would imply that she gets crushes, and “that would be embarrassing even if I were straight,” she says in the first-person narrative.
Not only that, but Leo has joined the drama club, something Al would never do. “Why did he have to choose this year of all years to join a club, when my body’s failing and the kids we’ve known forever are starting to smell weird and kiss each other?” she says at one point, encapsulating a relatable amount of middle-school angst right there.
She reluctantly joins a support group for kids with similar diseases, only to discover unexpected friendships and a crush on Mina, one of the other students there. This is complicated by something that is a bit of a spoiler, but which is relevant to the representation in the book, so I’ll write it in white on white below—click and drag over the area to see the text if you want to know:
Al and Leo’s moms start a relationship with each other. Her mom later says she identifies as bisexual. The moms’ relationship initially makes Al more reluctant to come out because she’s afraid people will think she’s copying her mom or that “it’s contagious.”
When one is embarrassed to be oneself, though, it can be hard to make friends, much less have a romantic relationship. Arlow portrays Al’s thoughts and feelings with both perception and humor as Al navigates her changing life and relationships.
While Al doesn’t explicitly identify as nonbinary in the book, she seems to have a broad conception of gender, at one point sharing her pronouns with, “I mean, she/her is close enough.” One other kid in the support uses they/she pronouns and is also bi; another is aromantic, and one is questioning both gender and attraction. One significant male character comes out as gay.
Another part of Al’s identity is her Jewish heritage. Al and her mom are White and Jewish. Leo is also Jewish, but is biracial, with a White mother and Filipino father. Leo and his mom are slightly more observant than Al and hers, though the families sometimes have Shabbat dinner together. Mina is also Jewish, of mixed Ashkenazi and Sephardic Jewish ancestry, and attends a Sephardic synagogue with her Syrian Jewish mom—a nice bit of nuanced representation, especially in “Ashkenormative” America.
This is an absolutely terrific read, with a distinctive, engaging narrator. It’s as much about learning to be comfortable with oneself and finding one’s community as it is about living with Crohn’s, and should find a broad base of fans. Highly recommended.
The Year My Life Went Down the Toilet is in fact the second middle-grade book this year about a twelve-year-old queer kid with Crohn’s, the first being Will on the Inside, by Andrew Eliopulos. Each touches on some of the same issues, like living with the disease and dealing with overprotective parents, but each is a very different tale, not only because of the gender of their protagonists. The Year My Life Went Down the Toilet is hilarious and snarky; Will on the Inside is more serious (though it is far from grim) and includes a thread about religion-based intolerance. (Will is Baptist.) Readers’ choices will depend on their personal preferences, and many may want to read both.
