The Radical Act of Letting Children Be

By Noel Galon de Leon

I Like Wearing Rainbows by Agay Llanera is one of the most moving and meaningful Filipino children’s books I have read in recent years. Published in 2021 as part of CANVAS’s Romeo Forbes Children’s Story Writing Competition, the book demonstrates the remarkable power of children’s literature to address complex themes of identity, grief, acceptance, and love through a story that is deceptively simple yet emotionally profound. What initially appears to be a gentle narrative about a young boy playing dress-up with his grandmother’s clothes gradually unfolds into a deeply affecting meditation on what it means to be seen, affirmed, and loved for who you are.

The story follows a young boy who finds joy in wearing the colorful dresses, skirts, and capes kept in his grandmother’s wardrobe. Within the safe and nurturing space created by his Lola, he experiences a freedom rarely afforded to children whose interests or expressions fall outside traditional gender expectations. Llanera writes these moments with tenderness and restraint. There is no sensationalism in the boy’s delight. Instead, the story presents his playfulness as something natural and beautiful. Lola’s applause, laughter, and encouragement become powerful acts of affirmation. Through her, the boy learns that self-expression can be a source of joy rather than shame.

What makes the narrative especially compelling is its refusal to simplify conflict. The father is not portrayed as a villain but as a figure shaped by deeply ingrained ideas about masculinity. When he scolds his son for wearing dresses, the moment lands with painful realism. Many readers, particularly queer readers, will recognize this scene immediately. The father’s reaction reflects a common social anxiety that continues to affect children who do not conform to conventional gender norms. The book understands that prejudice often emerges not from outright hatred but from inherited assumptions about what boys and girls are supposed to be.

The emotional center of the story arrives with the death of Lola. Her loss is not merely the death of a beloved grandparent; it is also the disappearance of the one person who offered unconditional acceptance. The narrative’s shift into grief is subtle yet devastating. The world becomes colorless, mirroring the boy’s emotional state. For young readers, the book offers an accessible yet honest portrayal of mourning. For older readers, there is another layer: the grief of losing a sanctuary, a place where one’s authentic self was welcomed without question.

The story’s final moments are among the most powerful in contemporary Filipino children’s literature. When the father discovers his son once again wearing Lola’s clothes, readers anticipate another confrontation. Instead, the father gently adjusts the cape on the boy’s head and leads him out of the room. It is a small gesture, but its emotional weight is enormous. Llanera understands that acceptance often reveals itself not through grand declarations but through quiet acts of care. The father’s transformation suggests the possibility of growth, empathy, and reconciliation. In a literary landscape where queer narratives frequently end in rejection or tragedy, this moment feels both hopeful and necessary.

The book’s significance becomes even more evident when viewed through the lens of queer childhood. Although I Like Wearing Rainbows never explicitly labels its protagonist as queer, its themes resonate strongly with queer experiences. This ambiguity is one of the book’s strengths. Rather than reducing the child to a fixed identity category, the story focuses on his emotional reality: his desire to explore, imagine, and express himself freely. In doing so, the book invites readers from various backgrounds to connect with the protagonist while simultaneously providing queer children with something they have historically lacked in literature: recognition.

This is precisely why the book remains essential reading even years after its publication. Discussions about gender diversity and inclusion in children’s literature continue to provoke debate in many societies, including the Philippines. Yet I Like Wearing Rainbows demonstrates that stories about acceptance are not ideological exercises. They are fundamentally human stories. The book reminds readers that children deserve spaces where curiosity and self-expression are met with understanding rather than fear. Its message remains urgent because many children still grow up navigating environments where conformity is rewarded and difference is questioned.

Equally deserving of praise are the illustrations by Lui Manaig, whose artwork elevates the narrative into something extraordinary. Manaig’s artistic practice has long explored themes of gender identity, diversity, equality, and self-representation, making him an ideal collaborator for this project. His illustrations do far more than accompany the text; they function as a visual extension of the story’s emotional landscape.

Manaig’s use of color is particularly striking. The vibrant rainbow hues associated with Lola’s clothing become symbols of freedom, imagination, and love. The illustrations pulse with energy through their bold color blocking, dynamic compositions, and distinctive patterns. Each page feels alive. There is movement everywhere, reflecting the child’s creativity and sense of play. Yet when grief enters the narrative, the visual atmosphere shifts accordingly. The illustrations capture emotional transitions with remarkable sensitivity, allowing young readers to feel the story’s changing moods even before they fully understand them.

What impressed me most is the way Manaig approaches representation. The boy is never depicted as an object of spectacle. Instead, the artwork treats his self-expression with dignity and joy. The clothing becomes part of a larger visual language about transformation, possibility, and identity. This attention to detail reflects Manaig’s broader artistic interest in challenging restrictive notions of gender while celebrating individuality. Every illustration feels carefully considered, inviting repeated viewings that reveal new emotional and symbolic layers.

The collaboration between Llanera and Manaig is a powerful example of how text and image can work together in children’s literature. Neither overshadows the other. Instead, the writing and illustrations engage in a dialogue that deepens the reader’s experience. The emotional resonance of the story emerges not only from what is said but also from what is shown. This synergy transforms the book into an immersive reading experience that appeals to children and adults alike.

It is also worth noting the significance of the Romeo Forbes Children’s Story Writing Competition itself. By inviting writers to create stories inspired by works of Filipino visual art, CANVAS has fostered a unique creative space where literature and visual culture intersect. I Like Wearing Rainbows exemplifies the competition’s potential to produce works that are not only artistically accomplished but also socially meaningful. The book demonstrates how children’s literature can engage with contemporary issues while remaining accessible, compassionate, and deeply engaging.

I Like Wearing Rainbows succeeds because it trusts children with emotional complexity. It does not underestimate its audience. Instead, it offers a nuanced exploration of family, identity, loss, and acceptance through language and imagery that are both elegant and approachable. The result is a book that lingers long after the final page.

Few children’s books manage to be simultaneously comforting and provocative, gentle and transformative. I Like Wearing Rainbows accomplishes all of these things. It celebrates the power of love to create spaces where people can be fully themselves while challenging readers to reconsider assumptions about gender and belonging. In an era when representation in children’s literature remains both necessary and contested, this book stands as a testament to the importance of telling stories that allow every child to imagine a world where they are accepted exactly as they are. Its rainbows are not merely colors. They are symbols of memory, resilience, hope, and the enduring possibility of being seen.

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Noel Galon de Leon is a writer and professor at the University of the Philippines Visayas, where he teaches in the Division of Professional Education and at UP High School in Iloilo. He is also the Secretary of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts-National Committee on Literary Arts.