Here's the truth, one I am reluctant to admit: I forbade my children to read certain books. My own mother did the same with me, telling me not to read Forever by Judy Blume (I read it anyway, at least "the good parts," and found it quite enlightening). I asked my daughter not to read The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger and later found it under her pillow, the "good parts" no doubt read and tucked away.
My thoughts about books have changed a lot over time. And while I still don't think that second graders will get much out of, say, Harry Potter, it's a wonder that young people are interested enough to actually try.
I think about my oldest son, the one who loved Harry Potter and whom I now realize often felt alone in our home, especially as he worked through his own sense of identity. There are so many books out now that would have been good companions to him on his hero's journey, books that would have permitted him to be the colorful, joyful, loving human he was and continues to be today ... books that would have helped him feel less alone.
Representation in literature is deeply important. Thankfully, I understand that now. In the same way that I enjoy reading books that speak to my own journey, I wish my son would have had access to books that spoke to his. Here are a few that I wish we could have read together. If we had, both of us would have understood so much more.
“I mean, I’m not ashamed, I’m just… it was just… I j-just need some time to figure this out. I just need a bit more time.”
My son would have loved this book so much, and the fact that it's a graphic novel would have appealed even more. It's sweet, romantic, and kind, inviting us to remember what it's like to be a teenager, figuring out everything there is to know in the world, especially our own precious selves.
“You sometimes don’t know you exist until you realize someone like you existed before.”
George M. Johnson's memoir of being a nonbinary Black man is so powerful. They're candid and humorous; reading their book is like connecting with a friend. Johnson's story is a hard one, and they tell it authentically. As a mama bear myself, I am particularly drawn to the fact that Johnson's parents were their safe place ... that they felt fully supported, unconditionally loved.
“This is how it always is. You have to make these huge decision on behalf of your kid, this tiny human whose fate and future is entirely in your hands. Who trusts you to know what's good and right and then to be able to make that happen. You never have enough information. You don't get to see the future. And if you screw up - if with your incomplete contradictory information you make the wrong call - nothing less than your child's entire future and happiness is at stake. It's impossible. It's heartbreaking. It's maddening. But there's no alternative."
I felt like I learned so much from this novel. It shows the length to which a family will go in an attempt to keep a secret until that secret cannot be held any longer. As a mother whose life was forever changed by her own nonbinary child, I appreciated reading about a family that will go to the ends of the earth (or at least Seattle) to ensure their child can safely become all that they are meant to be.
Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe
“To be careful with people and with words was a rare and beautiful thing.”
I imagine my son rolling his eyes at me if we had read this book together. I would have had to stop several times to read a passage out loud, the language is so gentle and beautiful. The book strolls through adolescence, considering the choices Dante and Aristotle make along the way to decide who they are and how and who they want to be in the world. It's a compelling invitation for the reader to consider the same.
