"And that, class, is what we call metamorphosis...Are there any questions?" Our young protagonist does indeed have a question (per question-mark thought bubble) but is immediately plagued by self-consciousness and doubt. No one else seems to have one, and asking would just shine an unwanted spotlight. A series of what-ifs? goes through the child's mind, played out in clear, lively digital cartoons with oversize, shout-y speech balloons: "YOU CALL THAT A QUESTION?...LOOK, EVERYONE! IT'S SILLY-QUESTION KID!...SILLY-QUESTION KID IS IN OUR CLASS!" After a brief imagined sojourn to outer space, where there's no one to poke fun at question-askers -- but there's no one to answer questions, either -- the child returns to the real-life classroom, cautiously raises a hand, and voices the query: "How do you know if a caterpillar is going to turn into a butterfly or a moth?" A very good question -- and one that opens the floodgates for other classmates' wonderings. (Who would win in a fight, a butterfly or a moth?) Reluctant queriers will relate to the issues raised by the story, which doesn't take itself too seriously, and may well feel a sense of relief and reassurance. Although some of the questions are actually quite ridiculous ("Can I be a moth?"), the act of asking them isn't. Elissa GershowitzJanuary/February 2023 p.57 (c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

A kid deals with question anxiety. A class of elementary schoolers is learning about metamorphosis. When Ms. Gail asks if anyone has questions, most of the class seems content to work on their butterfly drawings. Only one student has a question, and through thought bubbles, the blond, light-skinned child catastrophizes wildly, imagining that the act of asking a question will lead to ridicule, exile, and eventually total isolation in outer space, with no other living creatures to witness the vulnerable act of admitting uncertainty. Of course, when the kid finally works up the nerve to ask something reasonable and inconsequential ("How do you know if a caterpillar is going to turn into a butterfly or a moth?"), it leads to an enthusiastic cascade of questions from the other students, who are now standing up and cheering their inquiries like they're at a pep rally. With straightforward, graphic-novel--esque illustrations, this story wheels between emotional extremes, never quite hitting the right note, and it might do more to reinforce anxieties in kids than to reassure them. It's also left unexplored why the main character leaps to these conclusions, leaving the central theme feeling forced and underdeveloped. Ms. Gail is light-skinned; the other classmates are racially diverse. (This book was reviewed digitally.) Relatable but uneven. (Picture book. 5-8) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

In first-person narration, a child envisions the dire outcomes of saying something "silly" in class. After a lesson, the white-presenting youth considers asking a question but worries when classmates, portrayed with varied skin tones, stay silent. "I can't ask it, can I?" the protagonist concludes, weighed down by imaginings of the teasing that may result ("see ya later, silly-question kid"). A move to another town will be necessary, the narrator determines, and then another move to outer space, where no one can judge--and no one can provide answers. Finally, determining "I have to know," the child finds the courage to raise a hand for the benefit of all, unleashing heaps of classroom queries in the process. Spare comics-like renderings from Arnold have a contemporary vibe; humorous shots of furniture being moved onto a ship that blasts into space while the solitary protagonist peers from a window aptly capture the high-feeling stakes of anticipatory worries, as well as the very real emotions driving them. Ages 3--6. (Jan.)

When the teacher asks if anyone has any questions about metamorphosis, a student looks around and realizes they seem to be the only one. But what if their question is dumb? What if everyone laughs? What if they have to move to another school because of the embarrassment but their silly-question reputation follows them, so they have no choice but to move to outer space?!?! When the child bravely raises a quivering hand despite their fear, it turns out that everyone else has questions, too. This book gently encourages empathy for children with question anxiety in a social setting. The inclusiveness spills into the thoughtful illustrations, from the nonbinary lead and queer-presenting teacher to the multiracial cast of classmates, giving room for a variety of readers to see themselves in this scenario. The artwork is minimal and the colors are muted, directing most of the attention to the speech and thought bubbles and occasional graphic novel-style panels. And while the story is brief, it's a celebratory tale of a butterfly emerging from its anxiety cocoon.