Figuring out my identity as a queer person and my identity as an educator coincided in timeline. So, it’s no surprise that I had many conversations within classrooms and libraries about queerness. It was my approach to make sense of this new-found identity, include it in my life, expand its meaning for everyone, and receive all shades of acceptance and validation from others. It was in this context that young children provided me with comfort and acceptance through their acknowledging faces, curious questions, and non-judgmental perceptions.

Initially, my motive for these conversations was purely pedagogical. I wanted to figure out if the kids I was interacting with, in my classroom and within children’s libraries, could make the distinction between seeing someone as ‘odd’ versus seeing them as ‘different’. My primary goal was for them to understand the concepts of diversity and inclusion by showcasing and normalising different life stories and choices of varied people.

As I began engaging in these conversations, not only did they question and try to understand the different choices and identities that people embody, they explored it much, much beyond what I anticipated. They came up with queries about their likes, their preferences, their identities, and the confusion that came with this inquiry. The dichotomy of our classroom conversations that encouraged radical acceptance versus what these children were witnessing in their daily lives was obvious in the way some of my interactions went.

Here are a few excerpts from my conversations and emerging questions with different kids, in different settings, all on varied forms of queerness:

My four-year-old neighbour upon encountering colourful accessories and nail paint on my dressing table:

“I like the pink bow, but boys are not allowed to wear bows or have long hair. Can you also put nail paint for me? NO WAIT! Don’t put. My didaa (grandmother) will not like it!”

A teenage-boy in a rural low-income alternative school:

“Ma’am, I just want to be friends with girls. They listen to me. I don’t like talking to boys. But all the boys tease me and call me names.”

A tween girl in an urban school:

“Mujhe kal mummy ne bahut maara” (Mummy hit me a lot yesterday)
“Kyu?” (Why?)
“Kyuki unhone mujhe aur meri dost ko saath mein nahate hue dekh liya. Hum sirf khel rahe the paani se.” (Because she saw me and my friend bathing together. But we were just playing with water)

An upper group (ages 7-15) member in a community library:

“Mujhe sab ladki bolte hai, mujhe yeh bilkul pasand nahi hai! Parr mujhe ladka bhi nahi banna.” (Everyone calls me a girl; I don’t like this at all! But I also don’t want to be called a boy)

During my interactions with children in these various settings, I encountered a spectrum of thoughts and questions regarding queerness that highlighted their deep curiosity and their equally deep confusion and concern on ‘how to be’.

I attempted to answer their concerns around queerness and if it was ‘okay’ to be this way, but often fell short in offering words that would resonate, neither could I keep up with the questions that followed – “Are you sure it’s okay? What if my parents don’t like it? I don’t want to be punished.”

It was true. No matter how much space and conversations I could hold with kids in learning spaces where open dialogue was possible, I could not guarantee them acceptance in the mainstream world. The kids could be accepting of others, yet may not find the space for themselves to explore their identity. However, I knew that even though there were conversations I could not hold through my own experience, I could rely upon children’s picture books from diverse settings and use their stories to provide resonance for my curious audience. These books offered the possibility to have difficult conversations about children’s perceptions of the world through fictional characters, and to build a language of identity and acceptance that could be used to understand and even advocate for oneself.

Engaging with Children’s Picture Books

Nangu Nangu Naach by Richa Jha, illustrated by Ruchi Mhasane (published in Hindi by Eklavya)

In Nangu Nangu Naach, the main character, Nila, loves to dance freely, but she is teased for being different. With the help of her grandmother, Nila learns to embrace her unique dance style and teaches others to appreciate their own bodies and freedom.

This was a new story theme for my audience – no one had introduced a ‘naked’ character in the story before with them. The story resonated with them as they shared their own experiences of being teased or feeling self-conscious about their bodies. Through Nila’s journey, the children learned that it’s okay to be different and to embrace their unique ways of moving and being in the world.

Julian is a Mermaid by Jessica Love (published by Candlewick Press)

In Julian is a Mermaid, Julian sees three women dressed as mermaids and is inspired to create his own mermaid costume. His abuela (grandmother) lovingly embraces his creativity and takes him to a mermaid parade where Julian feels a sense of belonging and pride.

During our reading, the children were intrigued by the idea of different forms of people around us. They spoke and asked about different family structures, diverse identities, and the freedom to make choices about how to express oneself. The concept of “Pride” was introduced as Julian and his abuela joined the parade, prompting conversations about LGBTQ+ pride and acceptance.

Guthli Toh Pari Hai by Kanak Shashi (published in Hindi by Eklavya)

Guthli Toh Pari Hai tells the story of Guthli, who “wants to be a fairy, but every one tells her that she’s a boy.” Guthli’s journey challenges traditional notions of gender and explores the complexities of trans identity. Reading this book sparked curious questions from children about gender identity and led to discussions about acceptance and understanding of different identities.

Engaging with this book with the children, led to an extension of their understanding of the lives of trans people. The book challenged traditional notions of gender and identity, leading to confused but curious questions about gender identity and the acceptance of multiple identities. Guthli’s story provided assurance and understanding to the children that diverse identities and possibilities exist.

Why is Piki so Angry by Rituparna Bohra, illustrated by Kartika Bagodi (published by Nazariya Foundation)

In Why is Piki so Angry, Piki is a little girl who lives with her pet cat, Kuhi, and her mother. Piki comes home very, very, very angry about something, and her mother tries to guess the reason for it, but Piki does not give any answers! Later, her mother figures out that it was because Piki had had a fight with her best friend. Everyone teased the two of them about living together forever and marrying each other which Piki did not like, and ended up fighting with her friend about it. However, her mother helps her question if two girls marrying or living together is a bad thing.

During the discussion, there was disbelief and curiosity about the possibility of same-sex marriage. The children asked questions about the permissibility and reasons behind marriage, including whether boys could marry each other. Some questions were answered during our discussion, while others were left for them to explore gradually.

Making Space for Queerness – How?

These stories provided a safe space for the children and me to explore complex topics. They created an environment where children can explore and understand nuanced concepts beyond mere words on a page. Children’s books are powerful tools for initiating meaningful conversations about many things, including introducing and widening our understanding of queerness. Through stories like Nangu Nangu Naanch, Julian is a Mermaid, Guthli Toh Pari Hai, and Why is Piki so Angry, new narratives were introduced that allowed children to see themselves and others in a different light, challenging societal norms and expanding their perspectives. By seeing characters navigate issues of identity, acceptance, and expression, children were able to initiate an inquiry into their own ‘selfhood’ and question the norms, which is what a queer space encourages.

Such books and their stories help us move beyond abstract concepts of ‘diversity’ and ‘inclusion,’ bringing them to the forefront of daily life and children’s experiences. They provide a way to hold queerness, to expand its meaning, and to make space for it in the lives of young children. Queerness, as these stories illustrate, is not limited to just ‘not being straight’ or ‘being gay.’ It is a free-flowing identity that embraces anyone, including young children, who step off the assigned binary path. Then, making space for queerness in the lives of young children means to let them question, explore, change identities in a space that is safe and accepting.

Cover Image: Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash