The Name I Call Myself: "I can be anyone I want to be!" 
18 Dec 2020.

by Drew Rowsome - Images courtesy of publicist

Whenever a friend or family has a baby, I give the newborn a copy of Robert Lopshire's Put Me in the Zoo. It's a great book in the Dr Seuss style, about a leopard named Spot who desperately tries to prove to the world that he deserves a place in the zoo. He sets about demonstrating his remarkable abilities - his spots change colour and size at will, and even detach for fantastic feats - as an audition for voluntary incarceration, only to discover that he really belongs in a circus. No wonder it was my favourite book as a child. It is an affirmation that being different is being special. And I can't think of any better gift to give to a tot toddling out into the world.

Now there is a new book to add to that list of child empowerment literature. The Name I Call Myself begins with:

My name is written in front of me.
I try to say it, over and over again.
Our narrator explains:
When I think of the name Edward,
I imagine old kings who snore a lot.
It is the name my parents gave me.
But I call myself something else.

Edward, as his parents insist, then tells us what happened when "I Am Six" and liked to play with superhero dolls, to "I Am Eighteen" and "I can finally be myself" . . . "I can be anyone I want to be!" The years between are fraught with strife and the struggle to conform to, or break free of, gender roles. "Edward" likes to wear his mother's clothes and play with girls. But also likes to play hockey, mainly because of a crush on a teammate. He is in conflict with his father and seeks comfort from his mother, all while living in a rich fantasy world heavily influenced by fairy tales and pop culture. 

All of this information is conveyed in deceptively simple four line rhymes by author Hasan Namir, but is infinitely expanded into a detailed vision by the illustrations by Cathryn John. We read of Edward's pain and longing, but we see the fabulousness and glory (and terror) of his imagination. There is a very strong synergy between the words and the visuals that creates something stronger than either alone. I have to admit that, reading from a .pdf that kept the two elements separate, my first read through of The Name I Call Myself did not impress me. I missed the synergy which of course would have been obvious if the book had been approached the way it needs to be, read aloud and repetitively with the elements working together.

The other problem keeping me from wholeheartedly embracing the colourful charms and witty words, was my own short-sightedness. The Name I Call Myself is specifically about gender and I had confused that with sexuality. A gay boy's life from six to eighteen has much in common with a nonbinary narrative, and it was disconcerting to discover that I was ignoring the innocent ability to identify with a leopard, with an "Edward," because I was caging them in my own expectations instead of letting them take me to the circus. The second and third reading revealed more layers and by the fifth or sixth the story resonated and the ending achieved a powerful catharsis of identity that was quite moving. It's important to be reminded, or to read for the first time, that "I can be anyone I want to be!"