My Sister, Daisy

September 1, 2021
In an emotionally honest first-person text, an older brother reflects on how his younger sibling's gender transition has affected him. The unnamed narrator addresses his sibling, who, for the pair's first few years together, he knew as his brother: "We were brothers and best friends." When the younger child informs her family that she's a girl, the brother needs to process what's changed -- and what hasn't. The kids' parents take the news in stride, asking about a new name ("My name is Daisy, like the flower") and making sure to find an affirming community of similar families. The narrator, however, struggles with an understandable sense of loss and confusion. "I was afraid to call you by a new name and afraid to not have a brother anymore. I was afraid it meant losing you. But...I tried it." Curci's painterly illustrations, recalling Ken Wilson-Max's style (Astro Girl, rev. 11/19) with a more muted palette and less-heavy black line, skillfully convey relationships in this mixed-race family. In a particularly effective spread, the right-hand page shows Mom, Dad, and Daisy gathered around a kitchen island, the parents listening attentively to their daughter. On the verso, the narrator sits apart from the rest of his family, listening but not engaged in the conversation -- a great depiction of how children can feel left out and resentful of the attention a transitioning sibling often receives. Karlsson's text is purposeful but authentic to a child's voice, and the story (inspired by her own family's experience, we learn in an author's note) should support and guide kids in similar circumstances. With time and parental guidance, the older brother realizes "that you were still the same person, and we could play all the same games." And that's what matters most. Kitty Flynn

(Copyright 2021 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)

July 1, 2021
In an emotionally honest first-person text, an older brother reflects on how his younger sibling's gender transition has affected him. The unnamed narrator addresses his sibling, who, for the pair's first few years together, he knew as his brother: "We were brothers and best friends." When the younger child informs her family that she's a girl, the brother needs to process what's changed -- and what hasn't. The kids' parents take the news in stride, asking about a new name ("My name is Daisy, like the flower") and making sure to find an affirming community of similar families. The narrator, however, struggles with an understandable sense of loss and confusion. "I was afraid to call you by a new name and afraid to not have a brother anymore. I was afraid it meant losing you. But...I tried it." Curci's painterly illustrations, recalling Ken Wilson-Max's style (Astro Girl, rev. 11/19) with a more muted palette and less-heavy black line, skillfully convey relationships in this mixed-race family. In a particularly effective spread, the right-hand page shows Mom, Dad, and Daisy gathered around a kitchen island, the parents listening attentively to their daughter. On the verso, the narrator sits apart from the rest of his family, listening but not engaged in the conversation -- a great depiction of how children can feel left out and resentful of the attention a transitioning sibling often receives. Karlsson's text is purposeful but authentic to a child's voice, and the story (inspired by her own family's experience, we learn in an author's note) should support and guide kids in similar circumstances. With time and parental guidance, the older brother realizes "that you were still the same person, and we could play all the same games." And that's what matters most.

(Copyright 2021 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)