Introduction: Empathy and Queer YA

Young Adult (YA) literature has a powerful capacity for fostering the development of empathy in readers (Wolk, 2009; Hays, 2021). Alice Hays writes, “YAL has been recognized for its ability to explore and discuss complex topics in ways that are accessible to adolescents and allow them to thoughtfully reflect, develop empathy, and learn about important social issues” (2021, p. xvii). YA literature that focuses on the experience of marginalized identities is particularly important for young readers in its capacity to empower young readers, challenge perceived social norms, and support identity formation.

Our interest in YA literature, and especially queerFootnote 1 YA literature, is in its ability to foster empathy both for, and within, a diverse readership. Extensive scholarship has mapped the impact of narratives that depict complex social themes and diverse identities, and the relationship this has to evoking empathy in readers. YA literature has been employed as a classroom tool to initiate conversations and create empathy on topics ranging from the immigrant experience (Webber and Agiro, 2019), mental illness (Richmond, 2014) sexual assault and rape culture (Malo-Juvera, 2014), and trauma (Wolk, 2009). As Victor Malo-Juvera and Crag Hill argue, YA narratives “enable close identification, engendering empathy, particularly with the narrator and/or protagonist” (2014, n.p).

Empathy as we address it in this article encompasses several related responses, including: cognitive empathy, where people can identify the feelings of others; emotional empathy, where people take on the emotions of others; self-empathy, empathy extended towards the self; and empathetic concern, where people feel compassion and concern for others (Zaki, 2019). An additional conceptualisation of empathy comes from the work of Nicole Mirra on critical civic empathy, noting that empathy can be categorised as “mutual humanisation, or the idea that we cannot fully realise our own humanity unless and until we recognise the full humanity of those who differ from us” (2018, p. 10). It is, as Kate Murphy noted, a process of “engaging with other people … and learning how all our stories are different and yet the same in terms of underlying emotions” (2019, p. 198).

Rudine Sims Bishop’s foundational work, “Windows, Mirrors, and Sliding Glass Doors” highlights the importance of literature as a vehicle for readers to access a diverse range of perspectives in order to engender empathy. Bishop argues for the value of readers seeing the perspectives of identities not their own (window texts) and seeing the self (mirror texts) in literature, for creating empathy and validating individual identity. She writes, “Literature transforms human experience and reflects it back to us, and in that reflection we can see our own lives and experiences as part of the larger human experience. Reading, then, becomes a means of self-affirmation, and readers often seek their mirrors in books” (Bishop, 1990, p. 1). While mirror texts are widely available to readers of dominant social groups, readers from marginalised groups may not find their identity reflected so readily. As Bishop and others argue, there is considerable impact on young readers who, when they “cannot see themselves reflected in the books they read, or when the images they see are distorted, negative, or laughable … learn a powerful message about how they are devalued in the society of which they are a part” (Bishop, 1990, p. 1). Critical discussion, too, has been focused on the importance of window texts for readers, unintentionally centring a white, cisgendered, heterosexual, and able-bodied experience in its engagement with identities reinforced as the Other.

While acknowledging and examining the importance and impact of access to window texts for cisgender, heterosexual readers, our project privileges an exploration of the impact of queer YA texts for queer young readers at different stages in their development. Following Michelle Ann Abate and Kenneth Kidd’s argument that “Queer children’s literature both endorses and moves against a pedagogical or instrumentalist program, just as it both endorses and moves against the politics of identity affirmation” (2011, p. 6), our approach challenges notions of empathy development through exposure to the other, where literature serves as an instrument. Instead, the project provides a counterpoint for consideration: what is the role and impact of empathy and empathy development in queer YA for queer or questioning readers? The participants’ discussions problematized the windows, mirrors, and sliding doors model as it engaged with empathy towards the self and the intersection between outsider and insider perspectives. We argue that, rather than emphasising a perceived need for queer readers to evoke empathy or that queer readers possess innate empathy due to their queerness, our project offers insight into the affective impact of queer YA on queer teens. Rather than acting as an instrument to instil empathy in the reader who engages with queer literature as a window text, we explore empathy development in queer readers through the practice and engagement of queering literature and the discussion group space, informing a holistic consideration of the texts’ expected primary function as a window. The participants did not only engage in queerness when reading the texts, but in their discussions, the structure of the discussion groups, and the engagement of the self in the process.

Mirra’s (2018) concept of critical civic empathy positions literature as an important tool for developing empathy within student and readership cohorts, one which has been readily adopted by YA educators (see Connors, 2017; Wolk, 2009). To utilise critical civil empathy, educators and facilitators must take into account the social positions, power, and privilege of all involved parties; include a focus on the ways in which personal experiences intersect with public ones; and foster democratic dialogue and action committed to equity and justice (Mirra, 2018, p. 7). Mirra has argued that when facilitators promote reflexive discussions in which participants recognise themselves as existing within structural systems that grant various forms of power and privilege, reading literature can become a “mutually humanising experience that can spur social action” (Mirra, 2018, p. 20). Steven Wolk emphasises the far-reaching effects of this practice, writing: “Teaching for social responsibility with good books does far more than encourage civic participation; it redefines the purpose of school and empowers all of us—students, teachers, administrators, parents—to be better people and live more fulfilling lives” (2009, p. 664). Queer YA literature is one such area, where critical civic empathy is of paramount significance for queer, questioning, and non-queer-identifying readers, given its relevance to a formative period of development and discovery.

In 2021 we began an ongoing research project investigating the impact of queer identity representation in YA literature on readers, “Seeing the Self: Examining reader experience of queer representations in Young Adult Literature.” This study involved three focus groups with a total of twenty-three participants, queer readers aged between eighteen and thirty years old. We facilitated monthly discussion groups over eight months on different YA novels with queer protagonists, selecting texts across genres to identify the impact of visibility of queer identity in YA literature for queer or questioning young readers. Participants read the selected book prior to each session and engaged in guided discussions on themes and representation in the text, with a particular focus on reflective practice, their personal engagement with the text, and the potential impact of the book on other readers. Several key themes were developed in the study, including that YA literature has the capacity to empower its readers, challenge perceived social norms, and support identity formation. Our study has found the inclusion of queer YA texts to be a vital resource to develop the empathy of readers and advocate for more inclusive social environments.

Queering YA Literature

Queer YA literature is a broad and changing term that reflects the evolving and complex nature of the term ‘queer’. As Abate and Kidd note, “‘queer’ defies definition… The term at once fortifies and dismantles the notion of a stable or knowable self, in relation to gender and sexuality especially but not exclusively” (2011, p. 4). Abate and Kidd use queer both in relation to the sexual and gender identities of character, and the strangeness or queerness of narrative; it concerns not just queer desires and identification but “the strange, the fantastic” (2011, p. 3). They identify a shift in the literature and broader criticism from lesbian/gay-identified approaches that aligned with affirmation narratives, to queer readings that embody the strangeness of texts, highlighting further complexity in its definition. In their pioneering research in the area, Michael Cart and Christine Jenkins consider queer YA more broadly inclusive of texts that depict queer themes, characters, and content (2006). More recently, Derritt Mason rejects defining queer YA entirely, foregrounding the affects and effects of texts “instead of privileging genre, content, and imagined audience” (2021, p. 16).

Our selection of key texts was informed by our desire to include diverse and intersectional representation, with consideration of the developing context of queer YA literature. We aimed to include texts that represented a variety of narratives and experiences, especially those which have been typically underrepresented in queer YA literature. From its roots in the “problem novel” and texts that concern themselves primarily with the coming out narrative, queer YA has long been utilized as a tool for instruction and exploration. An increasing number of texts published today depict a diverse range of queer experiences and identities, recognizing the inherent value of such narratives for readers, regardless of their personal identity (Cart and Jenkins, 2006; Blackburn et al., 2015; Booth and Narayan, 2018). Adrienne Colborne and Vivian Howard note: “Early LGBTQ + young adult literature painted a negative and depressing view of what it means to be queer” (2018, p. 1). We selected recently published texts (2013–2021) that depicted narratives with a range of experiences, but included a focus on hopeful or happy endings. Our approach in selecting the texts reflected Stephanie R. Logan et al.’s criteria for selecting queer YA novels for a K-12 curriculum, specifically considering texts based on literary merit; windows and mirrors; stereotypes; pride, resilience, and self-actualization; sexual expressiveness; challenging heteronormativity; and social justice and empathy (2014). We sought out texts where the author shared the identity experience of the protagonist, and that featured a queer protagonist. We also sought, across the texts, a variety of intersectional identities, perspectives and genres, avoiding a focus on coming-out narratives. Given the context of our study, set in a regional Australian university, we wanted an Australian focus, and selected three of our eight texts from Australian authors, with an Australian setting: Kindred: 12 Queer #LoveOzYA Stories; Peta Lyre’s Rating Normal; and The Boy from the Mish. While the number of queer Australian YA novels is increasing, American texts far outstrip their Australian counterparts (Garrison, 2019, pp. 2–3). As such, the majority of queer YA texts Australian readers have access to are American, and reflect a specifically American context. It was therefore important to us to prioritise Australian texts in our selection for readers, given their personal contexts and the focus on seeing the self. The time available for the project and reasonable reading expectations necessitated a limited selection, and we were unable to include the rich diversity of queer YA literature available in other regions (as explored critically in texts such as B.J. Epstein and Elizabeth L. Chapman’s International LGBTQ + Literature for Children and Young Adults [2021]); ideally, the project could be expanded to further encompass regional diversity. Further, our selection of texts addressed broader opportunities for queering literature beyond overt identity representation, acknowledging Mason’s argument that earlier “calls for visibility and forward-oriented, teleological growth are not necessarily the most pedagogically rewarding or productive demands to make of queer YA […I]nvisible, subtle, latent, and sideways queerness are at least as worthy of attention as visible manifestations of nonheterosexual desires and identities” (Mason, 2021, p. 6). The texts chosen for the project, in the order read by the participants, are listed below:

Two Boys Kissing (2013) by David Levithan follows a cast of gay teenage boys across intersecting narratives as ex-boyfriends Craig and Harry attempt to set the world record for the longest unbroken kiss. Narrated by a chorus of men who died in the AIDS crisis, the novel was published in a period that Mason identifies as “a noteworthy turning point in contemporary queer YA discourse” (2021, p. 6).

Peta Lyre’s Rating Normal (2020) by Anna Whately follows Peta as she develops feelings for a female friend and struggles to embrace her neurodiverse identity, defying expectations that demand she subscribe to narrow social norms.

Kindred: 12 Queer #LoveOzYA Stories (2019), edited by Michael Earp, features a range of short stories from queer Australian writers, ranging from dystopian imaginings of inversions of gender norms to a bisexual girl’s experience of finding community at a fan convention.

The Mirror Season (2021) by Anna-Marie McLemore, a magic-realist text, navigates the aftermath of a sexual assault for Graciela, exploring trauma and healing. Graciela’s pansexuality is an important part of her identity, yet the narrative avoids placing it as the primary or defining feature, emphasising her queerness as holistic and yet non-defining.

The Boy from the Mish (2021) by Gary Lonesborough follows Aboriginal Australian teenager Jackson as he grows closer to a new boy in town, Tomas, and faces truths about his sexuality that he’d tried to hide. The Boy from the Mish provides a rich and engaging approach to the conventions of the coming out narrative.

The Extraordinaries (2020) by TJ Klune, the first novel in a trilogy, explores fanfiction and the superhero genre. It follows Nick, a queer teenage boy with ADHD, as he pursues superhero powers and his superhuman crush in Nova City. Both Nick’s queerness and ADHD are core elements of his identity and the narrative, and the novel’s characters are predominantly, proudly queer.

Loveless (2020) by Alice Oseman follows Georgia as she begins university and explores her sexuality. One of few texts with an asexual, aromantic protagonist, Loveless emphasises the importance of platonic relationships and the value of queer community support.

Urban fantasy text Cemetery Boys (2020) by Aiden Thomas follows Yadriel, a trans male teenager determined to prove his ability to be a brujo to his family. After accidentally summoning the spirit Julian, Yadriel attempts to hide his mistake from his family and solve the mysterious disappearances of teenagers in his community as he falls for Julian.

Theory and Positionality

We employed critical social theory and queer theory as our theoretical framework to guide our approach to the study design, selection of texts, and analysis of the data. Critical social theory is a broad framework, which at its core posits that the lives of individuals in society are influenced by dominant cultural, social, and political norms and structures, and that for individuals to overcome oppressive social systems those same values and structures must first be named, critiqued, and then challenged (Guess, 1981; Dant, 2003). Using critical social theory as a theoretical framework involved recognizing both sexuality and gender as socially defined constructs, and as such challenging perceived binaries of, sex, sexuality, and gender as being immutable (Crossley, 2005). Queer theory equally supports our critique of binaries and discourses that focus on normative identities. Queer theory actively deconstructs categories of identity, as these categories often obscure differential experiences, and can have the by-product of re-affirming pre-existing inequalities (Fuss, 1991; Green, 2007). To apply queer theory, or to queer, is “to make strange, to frustrate, to counteract, to delegitimise, to camp up – heteronormative knowledge and institutions” (Sullivan, 2003, p. vi). The combination of critical social theory and queer theory has supported our approach to this research, where we have aimed to critically assess how social structures influence the experience of young queer adults. This theoretical framework guided us in exploring how these social structures and related categories of identity are represented in young adult literature, while exploring how the representation of queer experiences in young adult literature can be used to transgress dominant notions of identity, relationships, and social spaces.

The use of this theoretical framework also informed our decision to use discursive focus groups, which in turn created a sense of queer community among participants. Participants engaged in analytic discourse, critiquing the themes, characters, and narratives within the texts. They became active in the process, seeking out further texts and suggesting ideas on how to further challenge dominant social and cultural norms to find more spaces for celebrating and normalizing queer lives.

Participants

The twenty-three participants in the “Seeing the Self” project were divided into three focus-group cohorts, each meeting monthly to discuss the same texts with the same two facilitators. The participants were divided into these groups to ensure that each session was a manageable size, and allowed each participant the space to contribute to the group discussions. The participants were diverse in age range, with the youngest being eighteen years old and the oldest thirty. The participants were a combination of university students and professionals, with a notable proportion of teachers and educators. While our research is exploring the impact of queer YA literature on readers, we made the deliberate choice to only include participants over the age of eighteen in our initial study, for two specific reasons. Firstly, we wanted to ensure that the participants were able to discuss a diverse range of subject matter related to sex, sexuality, and gender in a safe environment, and secondly, we were interested in exploring how the participants could reflect on their historic engagement with queer YA literature, alongside their current assessment of the provided texts.

The participants all identified as part of the queer community, with diverse intersections between sexual identity, gender identity, and gender expression. The various participants self-identified as gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, queer, asexual, homoromantic, and questioning when discussing their sexuality, and as cisgender men, cisgender women, non-binary, transgender, questioning, and queer when discussing their gender identity. The diversity of these sexualities and identities was frequently discussed by the participants, with many noting their own fluidity over the course of the project, and the intersectionality of the focus groups.

The participants for this project were recruited by distributing information about the research to networks and communities with a high proportion of young adults likely to be engaged with queer YA literature. This included physically distributing fliers across the university campuses, sharing information directly to undergraduate English and Literature courses, and contacting general and specifically queer book clubs.

There were two limitations in the participant recruitment for this research. The first is that this research did not record participants’ ethnicities or cultural backgrounds, and so may not have included diverse representation reflective of the current Australian context. Future research can address this factor by deliberately considering the variables of culture and ethnicity in how the participants engage with queer YA literature, engage with specific set-texts, and relate to the concepts of heteronormativity and cisnormativity.

The second limitation is the gender identities of the participants. The majority of the participants identified as cisgender women, with the subsequent risk that this research might prioritise cisgender experiences. It is important that care is taken to avoid assuming any homogeneous characteristics of the queer community, especially when it comes to previously unbalanced representation around gender and sexuality.

Focus Groups

The methodology of focus groups was well-suited to the aims of the project, as it provided a way for us to listen to, and learn from, the research participants through a collaborative method (Liamputtong, 2011), privileging their voices and experiences. Additionally, the collective nature of focus groups can provide a sense of power to socially marginalised groups (Liamputtong, 2011) – a factor we were cognizant of as queer-identifying researchers. Focus groups also allowed us to foster conditions likely to cultivate empathic listening between the participants. These conditions were primarily: community building; the opportunity for all participants to speak and be heard equally; the encouragement of active listening; and creating an environment that supported participants to be vulnerable and share personal stories (Andolina and Conklin, 2021). Empathetic listening was important for building rapport between participants, and cultivating an environment where the participants could share freely and openly with each other.

Data Analysis

We used a process of thematic analysis to develop key themes from the focus group sessions. Thematic analysis is a commonly used analysis method to organise, analyse, and distil large quantities of qualitative data into relevant and appropriate themes, while acknowledging the impact of the researcher in the data collection and analysis process (Braun and Clarke, 2021).

The process of thematic analysis that we followed included the creation and application of data codes to the transcribed focus groups. These codes were distinct and defined units of information that were relevant to our research agenda and were formulated through a process of note-taking, reflection, and application to the data (Guest et al., 2012). We applied these codes to the transcriptions of the focus groups, using the qualitative data organisation software NVivo. After the initial coding process the codes were clustered in groups that reflected common features or experiences, so that we were able to generate meaningful patterns within the data. We collated and developed these clusters in order to formulate broader themes and findings that were related to established academic scholarship and were reflective of our theoretical framework (Braun and Clarke, 2021).

Empathy Development and the Value of Queer YA

A key finding that emerged from our research was the inherent power of queer YA to encourage and develop empathy in the reader. While the focus groups discussed various queer YA texts – with divergent themes, characters, and plots – a consistent discussion point was the value the participants found in engaging with texts that encouraged empathetic responses, and how they could utilize these texts in various settings.

These discussions around empathy were not abstract, rather the participants were clear that certain forms of literature encouraged the reader to develop empathy, or move past societal processes that drained and reduced their capacity to have empathy for others. When discussing the short story “Sweet” by Claire G. Coleman in Kindred: 12 Queer #LoveOzYA Stories, one participant talked of the way that queer YA literature plays with gender norms. This specific story focused on a world where conventional depictions of gender identity were flipped and rigidly enforced, and the participants in the focus groups were appreciative of this narrative and the purpose it could serve. One participant noted:

People do have empathy. Most people are born with a certain, just general ability to connect with other people and have empathy. I feel like sometimes society drains that away from us. And so, flipping it on its head can be a nice kind of reminder of like, “Hey, we’re all people.”

This example, which reflected many similar conversations that occurred in the focus groups, highlights how queer YA literature can challenge perceived social norms (Wickens, 2011), disrupting notions of ‘appropriate’ identity and building the readers’ capacity for empathy. However, this insight came with a frustration common to members of the queer community and readers of queer YA literature, in that the empathy of people outside of queer spaces for queer individuals should not depend upon narrative devices. The previous participant continued:

But I don’t feel like it should be the only way, or I kind of guess, wish that we didn’t have to flip it that way for people to understand our experiences.

Several participants echoed this frustration, highlighting potential limitations within the windows, mirrors, and sliding doors model for texts. This centred on the perceived need for non-marginalised readers to experience marginalisation through an inverted narrative model in order to experience empathy; that they needed to experience this in addition to the narrative intimacy that affords readers the opportunity to identify with characters outside of their own identities. Participants further problematized the windows, mirrors, and sliding doors, instrumental texts model by demonstrating clear awareness of a didactic intent; their awareness made the empathetic development an active and deliberate process, one they could choose to resist.

Yet despite this frustration, the ability for queer YA literature to foster empathy in its readership was continually highlighted as a strength, a resource, and a method for social change by the participants within “Seeing the Self,” where this development of empathy could be used to build and strengthen relationships, challenge negative social depictions of queer individuals, and normalise intersectional queer experiences. Crucially, participants noted that both the texts and the discussion group engagement with the texts was a cathartic experience, and an opportunity for the development of self-empathy. Participants recognised, as in William P. Banks’s allusion to Bishop’s model, “the value of texts as spaces for student-readers to locate themselves, as spaces for these young people to see their lives reflected back to them, but also to see alternative possibilities for richer, happier, fuller lives” (Banks, 2009, p. 33).

This process found that the windows, mirrors, and sliding doors model does not argue for homonormativity in queer representation, but highlights and celebrates queerness in identity and modes of literature through queer visibility. During the project, participants clarified personal readings of queerness that expanded beyond a reading of queer identity and self-identification within the texts, to a recognition of queerness in intersections of self-empathy.

Opportunities for empathy development were highlighted again in a discussion on Peta Lyre’s Rating Normal. The participants argued that this text acted as a resource for normalizing diverse experiences, which in this context were experiences related to queer neurodivergent people, which was reinforced when one participant commented:

When we were saying that everyone sort of has touches of these thoughts or the way that their brain works, it normalises that, what that spectrum is, and it’s just another continuum. I think that would be a really, really good way to help kids empathize because I find that once they can relate something to their own experience, it’s tangible for them.

This identified benefit of queer YA literature as a method for developing empathy while challenging conventional narratives of “normal” or “accepted” identities, is significant in this context. It serves to act as a resource for general cisgender and heterosexual readers – where queer YA literature facilitates active discourse and reflection on what experiences are normalized, and thus perceived as worthy of respect. As Blackburn et al. (2010, 2011, 2015) and others argue, it is vital to have queer YA literature available to readers to engender empathy in all readers, and provide both window and mirror opportunities (Booth and Narayan, 2018; Cart and Jenkins, 2006). This is particularly crucial in an Australian context, where traditionally, fewer queer YA texts have been published than in the larger market of the United States, with less opportunity for teenage readers to access such literature (Garrison, 2019). Emily Booth and Bhuva Narayan challenge assumptions that America’s influence over Australian publishing and a push for advocacy in literature have led to wider representation of marginalised identities in Australian YA literature (2021, p. 1). Jordi Kerr writes,

Faced with the additional challenge of a smaller population – and therefore fewer potential sales – many Australian publishers have become very risk-averse. Angela Meyer, a commissioning editor for Echo (Bonnier Publishing Australia), agrees that in the business of selling books, queer YA faces additional challenges. “There’s a cultural perception that these books are ‘risky’, and that queer stories are only for queer people. …There needs to be cultural change.” (2017, n.p.)

Booth and Narayan note that the lack of queer YA texts available in Australian schools “disadvantages all students, potentially contributing to a more hostile environment for queer teenagers. Heterosexual students are deprived of an opportunity to be educated about queer identities and expand their ‘ethical understanding’, their ‘intercultural understanding’, and their ‘personal and social capability’” (2021, p. 46). These points were echoed through individual observations by the participants reflecting on their own experiences in secondary education, and also emerged through challenging and reflective discussions within the group context.

As the authors of this paper were facilitating the focus groups, we found ourselves observing how the group dynamics and facilitated discussions within the groups allowed participants to contest, deconstruct, and challenge the concept of queer YA literature as a tool to develop empathy. In line with the concept of critical civic empathy, this empathy was not confined to individual relationships and connections; rather, it was about recognising identities in the context of social positions, power, and privilege (Mirra, 2018). As Morton and Lounsbury argue, “reading texts about power is a power relationship in and of itself” (2015, p. 55). This process inspired as many conversations about actions as it did about empathy and connection. As Mirra noted, when using critical civic empathy to support guided reading groups:

[readers], as members of multiple and overlapping social groups, sit down with a novel (a political artifact in its own right), identify with characters who represent groups to which they may or may not belong, and take these identifications out into the world with them as they interact with fellow citizens and make decisions about social issues that impact us all. (2018, p. 20)

Supporting this, Morton and Lounsbury argue that “strong experiences of narrative empathy [in YA literature] can predispose individuals to respond to future calls for activism … reading [YA literature] ‘prepares you to act’” (2015, p. 54), an observation evidenced in our own findings. Many participants found themselves advocating for not only the importance of queer YA literature as inclusive content that develops and supports empathy, but identified how they themselves would use these texts as resources in their personal, professional, and public lives.

Queer YA and Younger Readers

Related to this finding, one of the avenues that the participants discussed as a potential method for using queer YA literature to advocate for queer inclusion, equality, and empathy development was through younger readers; specifically, by actively providing queer texts to younger readers.

A recurring prompt that was provided to each focus group was whether the participants would recommend the text to younger readers, and whether the text would have been beneficial for themselves to have read as younger adolescents. While the responses to these prompts varied according to the narrative of each text, with some texts identified as more appropriate for an older audience or within particular settings, the overarching response was affirmative – that these texts, as examples of queer YA literature, would be beneficial for younger readers and would challenge negative stereotypes that younger members of the queer community often encounter.

One example was when the participants were discussing negative representation in queer YA literature – both in terms of how characters are depicted and, in the experiences queer characters are expected to go through. In one discussion, on Two Boys Kissing, a participant talked about being drawn to positive queer representation, and their intention to share that representation with younger readers for their benefit. The participant commented:

I’ve noticed that a lot of the representation of the community that I was a part of was really negative. So, I’ve been drawn to try and find the positives in YA queer lit. I teach a lot of it to my students, which is awesome that I’m in a school that allows me to do that without any questions, which is really cool.

The participants appreciated the diversity of relationships and experiences of Two Boys Kissing, and the hope it might give to young readers, with one participant noting:

I think it’s a good, positive book. And I think that, like [other participant] was saying, it gives hope. And there’s so many varied storylines and characters and their experiences that I think, for most teenagers, that would be something that they can see themselves in and see that, oh, it’s not all doom and gloom. It’s not all terrible and there is hope.

These discussions show how the participants were aware of traditional depictions of queer experiences in YA literature, which often reflected dominant heteronormative and cisnormative values. In particular, they were mindful that for younger readers this representation might not necessarily reflect their personal experiences, desires, or the intersectionality of the queer community. If younger readers are not able to see themselves in queer YA literature – in identity, diversity, and experiences – then their capacity to advocate for social change and challenge social norms may be reduced. In order to challenge hetero- and cis-normative social structures, those systems need to be identified, and queer YA literature provides an avenue to highlight these social norms and provide a prompt for critique and reflection. The participants were aware of this relationship, both from their own experiences as adolescents looking for queer representation, and through their current engagement with younger readers as teachers, educators, and siblings, highlighting how queer YA literature can be used as a tool for prompting and developing queer-based advocacy alongside developing empathy in its readership.

Supporting, Validating, and Challenging Readers

A final finding emerged from “Seeing the Self” relevant to how queer YA literature can be used as a resource for developing critical civic empathy. This is its ability to act as a catalyst for internal reflection – supporting and validating queer identities, while also challenging internalized assumptions and biases.

On the topic of why it is important to advocate for the inclusion of queer YA literature in schools and broader social contexts, a common view that we heard in the focus groups was that it could support the wellbeing of younger readers, especially with positive representation. One participant succinctly captured this theme, stating:

I think for young people today who are maybe struggling with their identity, or coming to terms with where they fit in the whole world, it is good to have that hope that it’s not all going to turn out terrible. We might have difficult experiences, but in the end, there might be something good to come of it. Which doesn’t necessarily have to be white picket fences, but can be still something beautiful and unique to that person.

While queer representation in YA literature can have a significant positive impact on the wellbeing of younger readers, our project has also shown how it can validate other queer experiences. In the focus group conversations this validation often took the form of empowerment, where common experiences shared by the participants were displayed in the texts, acknowledging the often unseen and unheard reality of queer lives. One such example was the short story “Questions to Ask Straight Relatives” by Benjamin Law in Kindred: 12 Queer #LoveOzYA Stories, which satirized the invasive questions often directed at queer individuals. This narrative proved not only to be a source of amusement for the participants, but one they could all relate to with a sense of exasperation. A participant stated:

It’s the empowerment that you can feel as a queer person by flipping the narrative. [The author] shines a light on the ridiculousness of some of the questions that you’re asked if you’re a queer person. Which you probably wouldn’t really think of, like I didn’t think of them in that way until I read it so plainly in front of me that like, imagine if you were to turn that around!

The benefit of queer YA literature validating the experiences of queer readers goes beyond individual wellbeing. It serves to normalize the experiences of queer individuals to a broader audience. For queer readers, it provides catharsis by acknowledging shared experiences of social exclusion, stigma, and discrimination, while simultaneously highlighting the potential for change through community.

The ability for YA literature to be a resource for critical civic empathy is often used within interpersonal and social contexts. We have found that queer YA literature is equally suited to challenging internalized assumptions and worldviews. We found that the process of engaging with not just queer YA literature, but diverse, intersectional queer YA literature allowed for the focus groups to challenge various biases, assumptions, and beliefs. These discussions often occurred around concepts of gender, with one participant reflecting on their assumptions towards gender identity and representation in the short story “Bitter Draught” by Michael Earp, in Kindred: 12 Queer #LoveOzYA Stories. They noted:

I really liked how inclusive it was in terms of different representations, stuff that I hadn’t read before necessarily. I liked that it challenged me to think about my own biases. I’d read something and go, ‘Oh, that’s not what my brain immediately goes.’ That was really cool to read that and challenge myself as I was reading.

The implications of this statement – which was mirrored in many of the focus group discussions – is that queer YA literature can have a significant impact on the worldview of readers. This impact aligns with critical civic empathy, and includes challenging biases, beliefs, and stereotypes about diversity, breaking down barriers against social inclusion for members of the queer community, and highlighting the importance of these texts and genres being readily available to younger readers to support their critical civic empathy development (Mirra, 2018).

Conclusion

YA literature has the capacity to develop empathy when it involves diverse identities, and when its readership engages with the content critically (Hays, 2021; Wolk, 2009; Webber and Agiro, 2019; Sherr and Beise, 2015). Specifically, queer YA literature can develop empathy for a diverse readership by encouraging connections to characters and identities potentially outside the reader’s personal experience, highlighting the negative impacts of compulsory hetero- and cis-normativity, and drawing attention to the experiences of the queer community (Wickens, 2011; Bishop, 1990). The reader is active in their engagement with queer YA literature (Hays, 2021; Connors, 2017; Wolk, 2009), either individually or through group processes, assessing content, social structures, and engaging in a “call for action” (Mirra, 2018).

Critical civic empathy is a concept that supports this approach to queer YA literature, particularly in guided reading groups. Critical civic empathy requires an analysis of social positions, power and privilege, and a commitment to action and advocacy (Mirra, 2018). This concept is in line with the theoretical framework we have used for our research, where we have adopted critical social theory to draw attention to the social structures that shape and dominate personal lives (Guess, 1981; Dant, 2003), and queer theory which calls for an active challenge and deconstruction of heteronormative institutions and forms of knowledge (Sullivan, 2003).

The findings from our research show that engaging with queer YA literature can support empathy development within its readership. This finding was reflected in the participants’ own experiences with the provided texts, with a particular focus on how diverse representation can support empathy development, and their reflections on how other people would relate to the provided texts, questions, and guided discussions. Importantly, while the finding of empathy development did focus on interpersonal relationships, it also included the desire to advocate and promote social change, demonstrating how queer YA literature through the framework of critical civic empathy can be used to advocate for social action alongside developing empathy.

Alongside the broader finding that queer YA literature can be used to support empathy development, there was a specific emphasis that younger readers need access to queer young adult literature. Access to queer literature in educational settings is a contentious issue in Australia and many other countries, with claims that it promotes anti-social or deviant content (Lee, 2022). However, the findings of this research suggest it is important for readers to be able to access queer literature. Participants noted that providing queer YA literature to younger readers could support empathy development at a formative stage for both queer and non-queer readers, but could also challenge internalised stigmas and phobias that younger queer readers might have as a result of hetero- and cis-normative social structures. The participants’ experiences reiterated Cart and Jenkins’s belief in “the power of books to help teen readers understand themselves and others, to contribute to the mental health and well-being of GLBTQ youth, and to save lives – and perhaps even to change the world – by informing minds and nourishing spirits” (2006, p. xviii).

Queer YA literature, in conjunction with the concept of critical civic empathy, thus acts as a valuable resource to support, validate, and appropriately challenge readers. This process of reflective and critical engagement with queer YA literature can support identity formation, especially for queer youth; empower readers by letting them see their experiences authentically represented; challenge dominant notions about queer communities and experience; and facilitate empathy development.