A wolf in a nightgown swindles Little Red Riding Hood into thinking that he is her grandmother. That’s the only cross-dressing I was reading about at age six.
But such days of innocence for today’s youth are over. The world is a scary, dangerous place, and the sooner we induce anxiety in kids, the better prepared they’ll be for filing taxes, bumper-to-bumper traffic, and “winter-solstice” holidays sans Santa.
That’s the Left’s goal, anyway.
Gone are the days of Pippi Longstocking or Encyclopedia Brown, Boy Detective. Now, every piece of reading material pushes a radical agenda, introduces adult topics at inappropriate ages, or seeks to normalize aberrant behavior. See Antiracist Baby, This Book is Gay, and The Night Dad Went to Jail, respectively.
In March, I pre-ordered the latest juvenile agitprop, She Persisted: Rachel Levine. I can’t say I was particularly excited about creasing its spine, but someone should warn you what your daughter or son might be perusing in their public-school library.
The other, tamer books in Chelsea Clinton’s She Persisted series set out to inspire readers to follow in the footsteps of Sally Ride, Florence Nightingale, or Harriet Tubman—real women who overcome real obstacles.
Children’s anxiety “expert” and self-proclaimed avid “birder” Lisa Bunker did not intend to write a work of fiction. But even the title, in and of itself, is a fairy tale. If you’ve never seen a photo of (spoiler alert) President Biden’s Assistant Secretary for Health, allow me to explain. “Rachel” Levine was once Richard Levine, a married man with a wife and two children. He played football at the Belmont Hill School.
Levine is not, nor will Levine ever be, a she.
Before reaching page one of Richard Levine’s rise to feigned womanhood and, consequently, medical stardom, the dedication almost prepares the cynical reader for the garbage she is about to consume. The foreword penned by the youngest Clinton didn’t upset my stomach nearly as much:
“Dedicated to all young rainbow humans everywhere.”
Tell me again how they’re not coming for your kids.
The story begins when Richard first felt he was in the wrong body. He was five years old, living in Wakefield, MA. He was reading a superhero comic book.
Illustrator Alexandra Boiger portrays Levine throughout his life constantly imagining himself as a woman—at a Red Sox game, attending Harvard Medical School, playing with his children. He begins a gradual transition process in adulthood. First, he grew out his hair. Then, he began cross-dressing and painting his nails. Finally, he began “living as a woman”—whatever that means.
One day, Levine’s astute knowledge of adolescent medicine (and not his lifestyle choices) led the phone to ring. It was PA Gov. Tom Wolf! He wanted Levine to work for the state department of public health.
Wolf is a Democrat, but you probably figured that out already.
Bunker goes on to describe Levine’s reign in the Keystone State, first as assistant health secretary and eventually being promoted to chief health czar. As befits this sort of secular hagiography, it was a heroic era marked by overcoming online bullies and fueled by a “burning desire to help people.”
Oddly, I remember Dr. Levine’s tenure as the state’s health secretary differently. In addition to failing in his quest for womanhood, the Wolf appointee was quite mediocre at public health.
One day during 2020’s flatten-the-curve Panic, Pennsylvania’s death toll suddenly decreased. The state’s Department of Health must have thought no one would notice the stark correction. Excuses included “technical issues” and the addition of a metric they called “probable deaths.”
You see, it can get tricky when you’re counting hundreds of deaths that didn’t actually occur.
Then, when the going got tough in elderly care facilities, Levine pulled his own beloved mother out of harm’s way, leaving yours or mine in a Petri dish of contagion.
Still, Levine’s fantastic work shuttering schools, closing churches, and masking up a healthy population landed him a gig in Joe Biden’s increasingly queer lineup of bureaucrats alongside Demetre Daskalakis, Sam Brinton (prior to his arrests), and Pete Buttigieg.
If you thought Dr. Levine would go quietly about his business improving adolescent medicine or curing the malady formerly known as monkeypox— now “Mpox,” so as not to unfairly stigmatize the simian community—think again. Levine went viral just this week demanding that Pride Month celebrations continue all summer long.
And now, Levine has a Clinton-brokered book deal. What does She Persisted: Rachel Levine actually tell a young child?
Being transgender gets you attention from the governor.
Being transgender gets a book written about you.
Being transgender is special. Do you want to be special?
You’re six years old? Why, that’s plenty early enough to know you’re transgender. Rachel knew at age five!
Besides being a self-help manual of sorts to begin the “sex-change” process, the book also mentions a litany of topics the most malleable in society should not be exposed to, such as eating disorders or treating an overdose with naloxone.
The scariest part of all may be the epilogue featuring a set of “How to Persist” guidelines for young minds. Here are the most horrific:
Number 5: “If you are trans yourself, once you know you are ready and it feels safe, express your gender truth and live your authentic life proudly.”
Number 6: “If someone you know ever tells you that they are a different gender than you thought they were, believe them and use whatever name and pronouns…they ask you to use.”
Number 8 targets even the kids whose parents will not allow this book inside their homes: “Tell your friends and family about what you’ve learned about Rachel Levine and be ready to educate them about what it means to be trans if they need that help.”
The good news is, I have yet to see any positive review of the She Persisted: Rachel Levine propaganda. Wishful thinking, but maybe moms and dads will want their girls to read books about actually persistent, actual She’s.