Books like Sharice's Big Voice

I’ll never forget reading this tale of a blue crayon in a red wrapper, struggling to draw red. I stood in the children’s book shop, a grown lesbian, feeling the hair on my arms rise, my eyes fill. This story is full of humor as fellow crayons and art supplies offer advice: “he wasn’t warm enough” “He’s got to press harder.” But his struggle also breaks our hearts: “I think he’s lazy,” one crayon says. “The masking tape thought he was broken inside.” The dread of feeling that you can’t be what everyone wants is visceral. Clearly a perfect allegory for gender identity, this story also rang through me. Then, Red tries to draw an ocean. And “It was easy!” Soon he was “really reaching for the sky.”

As a pastor’s kid, this light, lyrical book about a church community gathering awakens my earliest memories: the bells and banners, candles and choir, warm greetings, and toddler wiggles. This community offers something many of us lacked: “A church for all!” From the first image of a mixed-race queer family waking early for church to the assembling “Weak and healthy/ Neat and messy/ Poor and wealthy/ Plain and dressy” chatting and worshiping together—this brightly illustrated book captures a true spirit of inclusion. Like many queer people, I had to leave my first faith community. Later I was amazed to find houses of faith like this one. I even married a pastor. Young me couldn’t have imagined living out, opening a service with a book like A Church for All.

In this gorgeous, accessible story, Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson, two transgender women meet on the street and become fast friends. They never knew whether they would eat, find shelter, or face violence from "Alice in the blue dress" (the police). Yet their friendship and generosity radiate throughout this story. They freely give their last dollar. Worry about kids without roofs. On Marsha’s birthday in 1969, they begin the “beautiful” revolution at the Stonewall Inn by refusing to be arrested for wearing dresses. This courage, this determination to create safe housing, this joyful zeal for equality inspires me still. Transgender people still face so much danger, something I've learned from people I care about. Sylvia and Marsha inspire me to revolt with love.

A life-long lover of dresses that “swish” and “crinkle,” I’m in complete solidarity with Morris Micklewrite in his choice of the tangerine dress and shoes that “click” at dress-up time. But his classmates, hung up on narrow gender rules, don’t agree. Yet this story is not about Morris’s gender. It’s about his fondness for a color that reminds him of tigers and the sun, his love of playing spaceship and visiting elephants in his imagination. Even before I understood I was queer, I gravitated to peers who I now know are queer, too. Yet we bonded over play, singing, imagining adventures together! That’s what mattered. By this story’s end, some of Morris’s peers also realize it’s not gender rules that matter, but the greatness of the adventures you share! 

I. Love. Slow. Burn. And this burn is delicious. I also love a bit of a celebrity romance. And a bit of a will-they-won't-they-should-they-even?

There is a delicate balance to strike when one of the MCs is the boss, and Wilsner pulls it off effortlessly. Jo and Emma are flawed and authentic, and so in love with each other they can't even see it. A sapphic romance with bi-representation is my favorite, and the payoff at the end? Perfection.

Written in 1899, this is still the book to read. It contains thorough and thoughtful commentary on the books of Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy (part one) and Joshua to Revelation (part two). 369 pages in all. It includes the original text to be commented upon, so there is no need to go out and buy a Bible. And it is, in a word, mind-blowing. (And it will depress the hell out of you to see where we still are 123 years later.)

The title says it all. In this short story collection, simply being a woman is a kind of emergency. These stories are slow burns, full of interiority and character development. The devastation is in the details: tiny moments that reveal deep-seated fears and barely acknowledged longings.

Each story is full of quiet revelations: there’s subtlety in the dangers these women face; in fact, it’s woven into the very fabric of their lives.  

Another classic, written in 1984 by the author of Against Our Will: Men, Women, and Rape, Brownmiller covers a lot: body, hair, clothes, voice, skin, movement, emotion, ambition. She says in her prologue, "I offer this book ... in the hope that the feminine ideal will no longer be used to perpetuate inequality between the sexes, and that exaggeration will not be required to rest secure in biological gender." 

From her shocking first sentence to her final transcendent words, the narrator compelled me to travel with her through her memories of a lifetime on what might well be her last afternoon. In fact, I read the book in a single day, a unique experience for me since I am a slow reader who hears every word and pictures every action in my mind. Drawn to both reading and writing with a Southern Gothic sensibility, I was spellbound by the unfolding tale of a complex and courageous woman’s survival during the era of the American Civil War. This novel reads like a mesmerizing dramatic monologue delivered on the stage of history.

In which I discover that St Paul’s was not a misogynist! It is easy to see why we might think otherwise. His first letter to the Corinthians has had a profound and often negative impact on the place of women in Christianity. And just when I thought there was nothing left to say about it, along comes Lucy Peppiatt, and blows my mind!

I loved the complete left-of-field interpretation she offers and the fact that she turns traditional interpretations on their head. She plausibly argues that Paul was not for forcing women to veil and be silent in church. According to Peppiatt, Paul argued against the domineering men who insisted on such things. Wowza! And, by Jove, she could well be right! Invigorating stuff! (The author’s academic version is her Worship and Women at Corinth)