Representation and Resistance as the Supreme Court Deliberates
The U.S. Supreme Court heard arguments on April 22 in a case about whether parents' religious freedom is violated if they can't opt-out their children before books with LGBTQ+ content are read in the classroom. Most media coverage of the case indicates that the majority-conservative court will rule in favor of the plaintiff parents. While we can't know for sure, here's what I do know.
If the court finds for the plaintiffs in the case, Mahmoud v. Taylor, LGBTQ+ students and those with LGBTQ+ parents or other family members would be stigmatized by seeing peers leaving the classroom rather than hearing stories about people like them. They might feel uncomfortable speaking about themselves or their families in class. And even if they try to do so, teachers might be reluctant to let them. A child sharing about their weekend attending their uncle's wedding to another man, for example, would be relating a situation similar to that in Sarah Brannen's "Uncle Bobby's Wedding," one of the books cited in the case. Would a teacher stop them, afraid of parental complaints? As for other children, they would miss out on learning about people in their world—and likely in their neighborhood, class, or family.
A ruling for the plaintiffs would also create a burden for teachers, who would have to solicit opt-outs and determine what opted-out students should do while the books that their parents object to are read. This would likely make teachers more reluctant to choose LGBTQ+-inclusive books in the first place. The ruling could also extend to other content that parents might oppose on religious grounds—including, but not limited to, evolution, women's equality, and eating ham (with or without green eggs).
We've been fighting this fight for a long time. LGBTQ+-inclusive picture books have been challenged in schools for more than 30 years. Two early LGBTQ+-inclusive picture books, "Heather Has Two Mommies," by Lesléa Newman, and "Daddy's Roommate," by Michael Willhoite, were suggested readings in a "Rainbow Curriculum" created by New York City Public Schools in the early 1990s to teach first-graders respect for all. Some found this scandalous. Mary Cummins, president of a school district in Queens, said in a 1992 interview with 60 Minutes that she didn't want her curriculum to include materials that "promote sodomy." There is of course no sodomy or even a hint of anything sexual in either book. More than three decades later, LGBTQ+-inclusive kids' books are still subject to similar smears; this was evident in the Mahmoud plaintiffs' legal filings, which implied that one of the books had images of bondage (it didn't; merely a person in a leather jacket) and that the child in another was feeling sexual urges (she didn't; she simply had a crush).
Back in 2008, the U.S. Supreme Court actually let stand a lower court ruling that supported the presence of queer-inclusive books in schools. In 2008, four parents claimed that the Lexington, Mass., public school district violated their constitutional rights by putting picture books with same-sex couples in its elementary school curriculum. In that case, Parker v. Hurley, the 1st Circuit Court of Appeals in a unanimous ruling wrote, "There is no free exercise [of religion] right to be free from any reference in public elementary schools to the existence of families in which the parents are of different gender combinations." The Supreme Court refused to hear the case.
Whether the current Supreme Court follows that lead or rules otherwise, I know this, too: Approximately 2.6 million LGBTQ+ people are currently parenting five million children in the U.S., and there are 3.2 million LGBTQ+ youth between the ages of eight and 18, per UCLA's Williams Institute. We are here, we are many, and we are not going anywhere.
I also know that the number of LGBTQ+-inclusive books for children and young adults has skyrocketed since about 2017. The number of recommended titles in the American Library Association's Rainbow List rose from an average of about 40 per year in 2008 to 2018 to an average of over 130 per year in 2019 to 2025. (Each list covers books published roughly in the preceding year and a half.) These books aren't going anywhere, either—although policies, laws, and court rulings could make them harder for many to access.
The range of LGBTQ+ and other identities depicted in these books has grown as well. There are books for all ages of children and youth. The themes and topics are wide and varied; some explore LGBTQ+ families and identities per se, while others simply show LGBTQ+ characters and their families having adventures or doing things unrelated to their LGBTQ+ identities (though the best still have the characters act in ways that feel authentic for those identities). Many of these books have also won major literary awards—not just in LGBTQ+ categories, but in general categories as well; they are good books by any measure, though each may resonate with different readers.
Finally, I know that despite the challenges above, many LGBTQ+ and allied parents will continue to seek these books and share them with young readers; that resolute teachers and librarians will do the same; and that LGBTQ+ people and our children will continue to be visible in our schools and communities. Yes, it will be hard—and our visibility must be balanced with our safety and survival—but we have faced similar challenges before. I still have faith in our ability to do so again.
Dana Rudolph is the founder and publisher of Mombian (mombian.com), a two-time GLAAD Media Award-winning blog for LGBTQ+ parents plus a searchable database of 1,700+ LGBTQ+ family books.