This past week, while a lot of people carried on the social media debate about that Duck Dynasty patriarch's newest homophobic remarks, I found myself finishing Am I Blue?: Coming Out from the Silence. Yes, the two events are related.
Printed in the mid-1990s (but unfortunately unknown to me until just recently), the book is a collection of stories for, and about, gay, lesbian, and questioning teenagers. The editor, Marion Dane Bauer, points out in her introduction that "One out of ten teenagers attempts suicide," and "One out of three of those does so because of concern about being homosexual." Her hope, indeed the hope of every author included in the anthology, is that through the power of stories these potential suicide risks will realize that they are not flawed, that they are not alone.
Represented in the book are many of the 1990s' most prominent YA writers, including Lois Lowry (Number the Stars, The Giver), Bruce Coville (My Teacher Is an Alien), and Nancy Garden (Annie on My Mind). Like every anthology, this one includes some pieces that are stronger than others -- my favorite, strangely enough, was the one by Gregory Maguire (Wicked), whose Oz books I dislike -- but its stories also face another challenge, that is, how to preach tolerance without coming across as, well, preachy. Of course, some contributors do better here than others, but really, the worst I can say about any of the stories is that they try rather too hard to drill into their young readers admirable lessons about valuing one's self and the differences of others.
It is also worth noting that several authors -- Maguire, Jacqueline Woodson, and William Sleater, for example -- deliberately write about queer young people who are not white, or who are not even from the United States. In a lot of ways, these particular stories are well ahead of a lot of lily white U.S.-centric queer research being conducted in universities at the same point in time.
Ultimately, the question is, is a book like Am I Blue? still needed twenty years later, even after several states in the union have legalized gay marriages and queer characters proliferate YA fiction more than ever before? The answer, I guess, emerged in this week's Duck Dynasty hullabaloo. As long as white, wealthy, heterosexual people with privileged access to the media continue to make statements that lead kids to believe their differences make them defective, and as long as similarly privileged people like Sarah Palin and an unfortunate number of people I am "friends" with on Facebook continue to defend their right to do so, then yes, there is still an emphatic need for this book, and many, many more like it.