Since my son started primary school, a few of his classmates have asked questions about the fact that we live in a flat. Why don’t we live in a house? Why don’t we have a garden?
They are not being unkind - they are genuinely surprised. He is six years old.
This is one of the many consequences of gentrification. Our little corner of South-East London has changed rapidly in the past few years. Thirty-seven per cent of children in our borough live in poverty, but that’s not reflected at my son’s school. Neither is it reflected in most children’s books - they’re a pretty white, middle-class affair, too.
Just happened to live in a flat
A couple of years ago, I was reading to my son at bedtime, and he pointed out that the main character lived in a block of flats. The book wasn’t about class or poverty. Nor was there a moral thread woven into the plot about diversity, or love conquering all. The character just happened to live in a flat.
I was struck by how validating it was for my child to see the way he lives reflected in his bedtime story. Ever since, I’ve looked out for books that feature people living in flats. I’ve also reflected on why this is important.
We all know that representation matters. As a parent, I have put together what I considered to be a diverse book collection for my children, aged three and six. I make sure our books don’t perpetuate stereotypes, for example around gender, race, and disability. We read stories from all over the world, about human rights, about identity, about religion and culture.
And yet I hadn’t noticed that nearly all of the UK-based families in our books live in houses. Suburban, small-town or rural houses. What about positive representations of ordinary urban life? What about socioeconomic diversity?
A sense of belonging
Books can help children develop a real sense of belonging. Even their very first picture books are helping children to shape their view of the world. Seeing themselves in those books is, therefore, crucial.
While there are now more books tackling discrimination and embracing inclusivity, there is a long way to go when it comes to class. Housing plays a key part in that. The ideal version of home in the UK is still perceived as a detached house with a garden - owned, not rented. Children will internalise that message if it’s in their books, too.
Housing and class intertwine with other realities, too, particularly race. Take gardens, for example. One in eight households in Britain has no garden (rising to one in five in London). People from minority-ethnic groups are less likely to have a garden (and more likely to live in a city). Black people are nearly four times as likely as white people to have no access to outdoor space at home at all.
Now think about how many children’s books depict homes with - or, importantly, without - a garden. How easy is it for these children to pick up a book and see how they live in its pages?
Leaving our biblio-bubbles
Writing diverse characters isn’t easy - especially when you consider who’s doing the writing (and editing, and publishing). Too often, these characters carry a burden of representation in their stories.
This is why I love the Lulu range of picture books by Anna McQuinn. They’re full of class markers, but they’re not about class. Lulu Loves Flowers is about Lulu’s love of planting. She’s shown using a community garden - we infer that she doesn’t have her own garden, but it’s not spelled out. Similarly, you can only tell Lulu lives in a flat by the view from one of the illustrations.
These details may not be obvious, but they are very deliberate. McQuinn sums it up perfectly: “I am passionate about including children who don’t see themselves enough in stories. But people often say, ‘Unless you draw attention etc. how will people know?’ I always argue that children for whom it matters will see.”
Understanding the world
Of course, middle-class families live in flats, just as working-class families live in houses. The building of new luxury flats in some cities is itself a part of gentrification. And children don’t need all fiction to act as mirrors - fantasy and escapism is just as important.
The point is, however, that books need to show as wide a range of family situations as possible, and that includes housing. It’s win-win. Some children will connect with a story on a personal level, and that connection can be hugely validating.
At the same time, others will be learning about different experiences, even just a few streets away. They’ll develop critical thinking and a better understanding of the world. At the very least, they won’t be shocked to find that they have a friend who lives in a flat.
Let’s get out of our biblio-bubble. It’s true that we are more alike than we are different. But to really embrace our shared humanity, we need to see and respect our differences. What better place to start than with our children’s books?
Read Becka White’s reading list of children’s books set in flats.
Becka White is the engagement officer for the London School of Economics’ department of gender studies, and works in campaigns at Amnesty International (Europe team)
