Support Systems for Queer Parents in Portland
I want to be a queer parent myself in the future so I decided to figure out the state of community and support systems of queer parents in Portland by interviewing four queer parent participants on their experiences of community and support.
They all gave an invaluable look into their daily experiences being queer parents in Portland. Support systems can be tricky for queer parents. They often have to explain their identities to everyone they meet, constantly defending their parenthood to others before they can even begin to find commonalities. Not only that, but many parents often focus on the outcome of other parents’ kids and judge them by this, rather than the parents’ content of character. Queer parenthood is so diverse, how do queer parents in Portland find commonality among others like them or completely not like them? These are their personal experiences.
I first wanted to know how many friends they already had who were queer parents. Judah with the most said, “It’d be like a large, pretty large, and wandering number, probably various and sundry forms, whatever we mean by a friend, probably like a dozen. You know, we attract people who have similar interests, and you know problems and perspectives and you know, things like that”. Then the rest have a similar amount of 2–5 queer parent friends. Katrina emphasized that she’s known her friends forever, “But, like all my friends are, are bisexual. I think I have like about 5 friends, but I also grew up with them, so I didn’t. It’s not like I went out to go look for them, you know like I just they’ve been my friends forever”. Meanwhile, Ari had 5–6, while Rosa had 2.
Most of my interviewees met their friends before all having kids. Which made me curious about where they would find other queer parents in Portland if they were to look now. Judah said, well, at work: “Gatherings for our queer folks and allies at work, and so that’s something where I’ve gotten to know other people and like to listen to them, but also provide…I’m part of a couple of you know, Facebook groups, which is obviously how you and I met”. Ari thought about their children’s activities and finding other parents there, but also reminisced about a parenting group that was held at New Seasons Grocery of all places, “Folks here that I met people at my kids schools and that you know, through their sports and stuff like that. Then New Seasons, grocery stores oddly enough, had a parenting group, and it was newborns...And it was an amazing way to have a community in your neighborhood, you know?”. Rosa again would find community through her union at work,
“I’ve met a significant number of them through like we’re in the Union space like for more. I don’t necessarily seek out for friendships like they kind of happen…I mean, it depends, you know, and it’s really hard, like the older you get to be able to make those connections. So you’re either in a parent setting or you’re in a different setting. And then the topic of parenting comes up”.
There was also a similar theme between a few parents of Facebook groups being invaluable to not only meet other queer parents but to plan events and engage queerly with one another in an online forum.
Where do queer parents in Portland find their support systems? Judah explains how they’re focused on community at work, “So I’ve got support groups through there [work] that you know my wife calls it my, she’s like that’s your part of the Earth communal therapy budget where it’s like my group therapy job”. So much support taking place at one’s job makes sense since most people are at their jobs 40+ hours a week if they’re full time and so they’d search for that support system because they have no other time or place to.
When it comes to support, Katrina said that her friends were the most supportive, “I think my friends are my biggest support group. Besides my small group of friends. I’m not very outgoing in general. Maybe if I was, I would be more active in different organizations, even outside of that, you know”. Rosa also agreed on support through friendships, but she also expanded on her personal struggle with having her Mexican identity in addition to being queer,
“I think it’s just like friendship. I struggle a lot with that, and I think it’s something that, like people [who] have grown up, you know, with marginalized identities tend to struggle a lot. You know, especially queer people who it feels like… you’re constantly having to out yourself and out yourself, all the time. And it just feels never ending. So it makes it really hard to have that support system”.
Even though these struggles are out of her control, Rosa has hope for a future of raising kids through the ‘village’ model. “We have to do that, you know. I wish it was the village, you know the metaphorical village of like having that to raise your children. I wholeheartedly believe that is the most successful way to raise a child. It’s in that kind of a village community. So finding little bits and pieces and kinda creating that sense for yourself is really important”. The ‘village’ model, derived from the African proverb, engages a whole community in caring for and supporting a child’s development and needs. Something far different from what we have now, with a societal environment engaged in extreme individuality and no time to make new friends. Though it seems as if queer parents despite the odds, are seeking this ‘village’ out for themselves.
I also wanted to know what their experiences were in terms of interaction with cisgender and heterosexual parents as queer parents. Judah wanted me to know that if cis/het people don’t like them, it’s less about their queerness and more about their general vibe,
“You know, I think, that the acceptance or lack thereof, I have typically found to be related to just sort of who I am as a package rather than a particular facet of who I am like, you know, with my sexuality, because I am very much out of you know all my things I’m not like an I’ve never really tried to fit in and be normal. I actually explicitly gave that up. When I was about 15 years old I realized it was never gonna happen”.
Katrina for the most part feels safe around cisgender and heterosexual parents, “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve had a problem, but also I think it’s because I’m a single mom that they don’t know, though you know what I mean. I’m not out and about like (with) a spouse. When I tell them my story, they seem very accepting. I don’t think I’ve been discriminated against based on my status”. Ari was surprised to see how accepting Portland could be,
“You know that was something I did not expect. I did not. I didn’t really like, especially when I was younger. I didn’t like to socialize, really, with that many straight people at a very tight community, and I would say I socialize more with straight people now as a parent more than I ever did before, and I found it to be pretty, you know it’s Portland, too. I have a social circle of straight people which is kind of odd, and you know, cis people. We moved here from a small town. So maybe we’ve kind of been a little culture shock there, too”.
When you’re from a queer and marginalized standpoint, it’s hard to be optimistic about conversing with cisgender and heterosexual people. Rosa specifies having to explain herself constantly,
“It’s tough, because just being a single parent is really tough anyways, so like…It feels like you have to unpack so much, you know, and like that environment where people see people with kids. And they automatically assume like, Oh, you’re in a heterosexual relationship. That’s who you are. Like in heterosexual environments, it’s more difficult like you really have to continue on explaining and explaining and like self-disclosing a lot more, and them being like, Oh, that’s TMI! You’ve told me too much, you know, and it’s like I need you to understand where I’m coming from, because you have this assumption of me”.
These complicated feelings around connecting with cis/het parents are echoed in all of the queer parent participants. They all feel generally comfortable being around them, but that connection is lessened by the need to constantly defend one’s identity and sense of self to others who aren’t queer. It isn’t that the queer parents can’t understand their cis/het counterparts, it’s that cis/het people don’t understand queer identities and non-normative family structures, have intrusive questions, give immediate judgment based on biases, or want to be educated by the queer person. This labor is exhausting and it’s understandable that it would be hard to become friends with someone who makes you defend or educate them about every aspect of yourself.
Ultimately then, what do these parents wish society understood about queer parents? The hope of parenting with intent is what Judah decided to focus on for this question,
“…if you come through all that kind of trauma and judgment, and you still want to bring a person into the society that put you through that. That is a powerful act of hope that it’ll be different for your kid, that you can make it different for your kid than what you went through. So yeah, but I think that just kind of acknowledging that everybody who is a queer parent has had to really deal with some shit. You know about their upbringing and frequently had very tough, you know. We believe that we don’t have to have the same cycle of pain and the same cycle of you know conflict, and that we can make a positive change and have things be different”.
Most parents want everything to be better for their kid than it was for them, although for queer parents this is a constant battle in a country where queer rights in general are still a debate and many queer parents have trouble being understood and accepted for their identities.
Katrina engaged in her support for fellow queer parents and the intentionality that goes into becoming a queer parent,
“That we’re just as good as heterosexual parents, if not, maybe even better, because I feel like more planning goes into it. Well, you know not my situation, but you know for a gay couple, or a lesbian couple, a lot of planning goes into that, you know, usually you have to be in a place where you’re more financially stable, and even from my experience. With a lot of the clients that I clean for, they’re a lot more calm and patient than I am. They do an amazing job at parenting, I feel like the world would be a better place if there were more queer parents in the world”.
While Ari thought of a general acceptance for queer parents and queer families that still needs to happen,
“There’s so many different kinds of people in the world, and there’s different ways of being a family. I think we’re all learning. One mom, one dad, or whatever people have. Yeah, I think, it’s evolving and changing and the way that people raise kids, one of our best friends is almost like another parent to our kids. I think there’s just so many ways of being family. It’s just gonna get more and more accepted”.
Again we have this callback to the ‘village’ model and how different adults are making a difference in their kids’ lives, ultimately queering said family. Rosa made a call to action for acceptance of queer parent’s lives and the diverse experiences they have,
“I think that influencing those things is really hard because it’s such a broad systemic issue where we just are very heteronormative. I’ve been working with a Trans woman who had to pause their hormone therapy, because their female partner wanted to have a child. So they went through a lot of distress, emotionally a lot of things like gender dysphoria, a lot of deeply harming process to be able to get pregnant you know, and I don’t think that like I don’t know. It doesn’t occur to someone that’s not going through that, you know. So I think there’s so much as a society that we need to learn about queer parents”.
Rosa raises another important point here, that cisgender and heterosexual people typically don’t understand the nuances of parenting when it comes to being queer, whether in gender or sexual orientation.
It is one thing to preach acceptance and allyship, and another thing to proceed to not do any personal research or engagement with the queer community or learn about different identities on one’s own. Instead of expecting queer people to educate cis/het people, it should be expected that they do these things themselves if they truly wish to understand. Perhaps then, we can move towards an environment where queer parents and queer people in general, can more easily find support systems, the ‘village’ they aspire to have, and acceptance of queer family models along the way.
