Two New Books on LGBTQ Parents and Our Children

I am thrilled to bring you news about two (two!) wonderful new books on LGBTQ parenting.

Lesbian and Gay Parents and Their Children: Research on the Family Life Cycle, by Abbie Goldberg, an assistant professor of psychology at Clark University in Worcester. Goldberg has compiled and synthesized decades of research by herself and others into an academic work aimed in part at psychologists, social workers, and similar professionals. It should also, however, be read by every politician, judge, and lawyer dealing with LGBTQ-related issues, for its conclusions both support the notion that LGBTQ families are as good for children as any others, and show how equal parental rights and relationship recognition would give these families greater emotional, financial, and legal stability. LGBTQ parents, too, will find much to ponder here about our own relationships with each other and with our children.

Goldberg structures the book around the “family life cycle,” beginning with the relationships of same-sex couples who are not yet parents, then looking at couples making the decision to become parents. Next, she examines the parental roles, concerns, and values of those who are parents, and how parenting impacts their intimate relationships.

After that, she turns to the children, first exploring whether having lesbian or gay parents affects the development, mental health, or identity of young children, then looking at adults with lesbian and gay parents. With hindsight, how do they view their growing-up experiences? How do they come out about their families? What are the experiences of those who come out as lesbian or gay themselves?

Goldberg incorporates the little research that exists on transgender parents and their children, but notes that much more needs to be done. The same goes for bisexual parents, who, she says, have been hidden by being labeled as either heterosexual or lesbian/gay.

Her conclusions are heartening. The children of lesbian and gay parents “are developing normally.” Lesbian- and gay-parent families “are not, by virtue of their family structure, essentially different from heterosexual-parent families.” In fact, it is “family processes,” the relationships and dynamics among family members, that “are often more important than family structure in influencing the mental health and adjustment of family members.”

Gay and lesbian parents may also have certain advantages over their non-LGBTQ counterparts. One study found that lesbian non-biological mothers were more involved with their children than heterosexual fathers; another found that gay fathers were “more sensitive and responsive to the perceived needs of their children” than their heterosexual peers. Children of lesbian and gay parents—and their offspring as well—may also grow up with “more expansive and flexible notions of gender” and be more accepting of differences in others. Goldberg notes, however, that more work needs to be done on the implications of this increased flexibility, as well as the impact of class, race, geography, and other less-studied factors.

She also asserts that future research should not simply judge gay and lesbian parents in comparison to heterosexual parents, an approach that maintains the latter as the ideal. If instead we study lesbian and gay families in their own right, we can open up the question of “What is a family?” and “significantly expand our understanding of parents, families, roles, gender, and sexuality.”

That brings us to the second book, Who’s Your Daddy? And Other Writings on Queer Parenting, edited by Rachel Epstein, head of the LGBTQ Parenting Network at Sherbourne Health Centre in Toronto. The collection of nearly 40 essays, mostly from Canadian writers, covers a broad swath of the LGBTQ spectrum and serves, in a less academic way, to expand our understanding of family as Goldberg recommends.

There are single parents, butch moms, a teenaged parent, an infertile mom, a mother parenting through open adoption, and one in a polyamorous relationship. There are transgender men who became parents both before and after transitioning, several through pregnancy. There is a gay man who writes of co-parenting with a lesbian couple, and a lesbian mom who writes of co-parenting with a gay donor, his partner, and her own ex-partner. One essay interviews a single bisexual woman and two opposite-sex bisexual couples who discuss whether to disclose their invisible orientation while applying to be foster parents. Several of the writers examine how race and ethnicity are woven into other queer parenting issues.

A number of essays are by straight, lesbian, and transgender adult children of LGBTQ parents. Another shares the voices of teens and tweens of LGBTQ parents, who discuss the issues they face at school related to their parents. One takes a hard look at LGBTQ-inclusive children’s literature, noting how much seems written mostly to convince a straight, homophobic audience that “We’re normal, too.”

The authors ask tough questions: How does what we say about the limited importance of biological connections compare to what we actually do? What sort of masculine values does a butch mother convey to her son? Is it possible to “parent queerly” or is parenting itself a normalizing endeavor? How can we make space in the queer parenting community for those who want to incorporate elements of traditional parenting?

No one book can capture the entire diversity of LGBTQ parenting. Who’s Your Daddy still leans a little heavily on the voices of women. Nevertheless, it reveals many more facets of LGBTQ parenting than most works on the subject, deftly offering both personal and political insights. It is a rich and rewarding volume that every LGBTQ parent and prospective parent should read.

Because of the sheer number of authors and perspectives in Who’s Your Daddy?, I asked Epstein if I could post quotes from a number of the essays over the next couple of weeks. She agreed, so look for them in the coming days.

I’ll start with one from Epstein herself, in the introduction to the book:
When all is said and done, we need to value what we offer our children. We need to turn away from romanticized depictions of our families that deny our pains and challenges and complexities and move toward deeper, fuller accounts of our families. . . .

My hope is that bringing together such a varied group of honest and thoughtful writings will help turn on its head the notion that our children are running a deficit by having us as parents. Not by proving that really they turn out okay or “the same as” other children, but by recognizing and celebrating the richness that is forged from our courage to be all of who we are. This richness is what we offer our children, not in spite of, but because of, who we are.

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