In 1987 at the height of the AIDS epidemic in the U.S., seventh-grader Iris Cohen’s dad is dying from complications of AIDS. He came out as gay a year ago and her parents divorced, but they are amicably co-parenting. Her dad and his new boyfriend, J.R. even live in the same apartment building as Iris and her mom. Iris and her dad are close, and share their feelings via acrostic poems—a literary device that author Ami Polonsky uses to moving effect. Iris hates J.R., though, the person who (unwittingly) gave her dad the virus.
Iris has kept her dad’s illness a secret from people at school—being teased when classmates learned he was gay was bad enough—but word soon leaks out. Even her favorite teacher has an overblown reaction when she, who does not have AIDS, gets a splinter. When her dad dies, Iris grapples with grief and rage and a deepening awareness of the bias and fear surrounding the disease.
Gradually, though, her feelings towards J.R. change, and through him, she learns of her dad’s activism. He was part of the burgeoning ACT UP group that was taking radical action to push for more understanding, increased research, and faster treatment approvals. Supported by several close friends, including one boy who becomes a first crush, Iris becomes involved in ACT UP as well. Taking action and reflecting further on her dad’s poems help Iris process and channel her grief in a way that lets her move forward. Commendably, Polonsky shows the ACT UP members in the process of figuring out what their organization should do and how to do it—a nuanced look at the birth pangs of any social justice movement.
Polonsky skillfully weaves in historical moments and figures (notably Dr. Anthony Fauci, who had a sometimes contentious relationship with AIDS activists), but keeps them from weighing down the story. The focus of the book, however, is on one girl’s response to a family tragedy, not a history of AIDS activism, even as it reminds us of the very personal reasons for such activism. An Author’s Note adds more details for those who want them.
This is not the first middle grade book to feature a character with AIDS, but it is the first I know of from the perspective of a child whose queer father has the disease. (See this post for some others, and a few picture book titles. Additionally, Cordelia Jensen’s 2015 Skyscraping features a girl whose bi father is living with HIV, but it’s a young adult title; Courtney Sheinmel’s 2009 middle grade title Positively features a girl who contracted HIV via transmission from her straight mother during the mother’s pregnancy.) It shines a light on an era of LGBTQ history while reminding us that out queer people have been raising children for decades, and that anti-LGBTQ actions harm them as well. Polonsky conveys this via a heart-wrenching story of tragedy and personal growth—a tale also remarkably imbued with a sense of hope and a belief in the power to create change.
If you are interested in a non-fiction memoir for grown-ups that touches on some of the same issues, check out Fairyland: A Memoir of My Father, by Alysia Abbott, about being raised by her single gay father in 1970s and 80s San Francisco, and caring for him in turn when he was diagnosed with AIDS.
