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"Becoming Narratives: The Entanglement of Ability, Gender, Sexuality, and Time in 'Special Needs' Memoirs"

On the cover of Beth Kephart’s memoir A Slant of Sun is a black-andwhite photograph of a tiny child sitting on a wooden-slat porch. The child, presumably Kephart’s son Jeremy, looks out towards an empty suburban street, back turned to the camera. There is a stuffed animal to his left, and on his head is a large hat that has been tinted bright green, the color of key lime pie. It is a “ladies’ hat” (Kephart 37): soft, with velvet trim around the wide brim. Early in Kephart’s memoir, we learn that shortly before his second birthday, Jeremy becomes obsessed with this hat. He refuses to take it off, even wearing it to bed and in the bath. Kephart’s husband demands that she return it to the store, or at the very least forbid Jeremy from wearing it outside the house. Both Kephart and her husband are alarmed, and she laments, “the writing [was] on the wall” (38). What the wall says, however, is not immediately clear. Kephart elaborates over the next few pages, beginning with how Jeremy’s obsession thrusts both the mother and child into a new, conspicuous cultural space. Walking around town, Jeremy is mistaken for a girl. Neighbors tell Kephart “not to worry”; that the child is “definitely in a phase” and that “worse cases have been solved” (39). She interprets the stares from “muscular men in sleeveless ribbed shirts”