So, first off, I'm hopelessly single, young, don't have a functional female reproductive system, don't yet have kids, and am generally just not-quite-yet ready to be a parent, so I profusely apologize if it is inappropriate for me to be making this thread.
But queer parenting has come up a few times in some other threads, and this is something I've been thinking about a lot lately, at least partially because I've recently had to come to terms very quickly with my own fertility and reproductive role, and not without a certain amount of crying.
I'm an ardent supporter of the right to choose not to be a parent, and all of the reproductive rights we typically talk about, like abortion and birth control, as well as fighting against the societal pressures many people, particularly women, often face in their decisions to not have a child.
But there was always something nagging at my heart strings in those conversations that I could never quite articulate. Probably mostly because I never really fully understood how I felt about it until recently. And it had nothing to do with what anyone was saying, but what is often left un-said.
While reading the recent articles about lesbians being denied fertility treatments for not having sex with men, I came across this article about non-gestational parenting which suddenly and miraculously managed to put words to my feelings:
http://www.autostraddle.com/countdown-to-baby-t-rex-the-non-gestational-parent-perspective-and-my-enduring-love-for-pickles-37-weeks-345345/
I guess being at the intersection of being Native American, autistic, queer, and trans, I come from many worlds where people are not necessarily allowed to be parents, because of who they are, and I suppose in many ways I've internalized that and I've been subconsciously aware of that during all those conversations. Even before I came to understand my queerness and transness (relatively recently), among Native Americans and disabled people, there is a long history of being denied the right to parent, whether through forced sterilization or having their children taken away.
And of course, I'm now coming to terms with the fact that I'd rather be a mother than a father, and struggling with never really being able to carry a child and be a "biological mother" in quite the way I wish I could be. Even if I'm not 100% sure whether I want kids or not, I desperately wish that option were open to me.
And to get intersectional again, in terms of Native identity, I've struggled with issues of blood quantum and tribal enrollment, and how to raise my future children within my cultural heritage even if they are not related to me by blood.
(I ultimately decided to say "fuck it", and to forgo banking genetic material; if I have kids, they will be adopted. I'm not sure I could emotionally handle watching a partner go through pregnancy knowing I couldn't. I hope I'm able to adopt.)
And yet, I'm now excited about the prospect of potentially being a mother one day, and all of the amazing things that are biologically possible. Like lactating. I'd like to breastfeed, if they're at that age. It's possible, but there's very little research on it, and now that I'm Dr. Kuwi, and plan to stay in academia, someday I'd like to help find funding for research on inducing lactation for non-gestational parents who have breasts (and other cool queer things like better research on hormone replacement therapy).
So those are just some of my recent thoughts and feelings recently, and my happiness at finally finding a way to express how -- while I'm glad that we're talking about and fighting for reproductive rights, and the need to accept the choice to not be a parent -- I also wish we talked more about affirming the right to be a parent for people who are often denied that right, and the accompanying reproductive rights that we rarely discuss.
I've had complicated feelings about these things for a while now, but I haven't really understood or figured out how to express them in a way that made sense to me until now. And I keep getting inspired and understanding a little bit more as I read more about queer and trans parenting.
Thanks for listening.
But queer parenting has come up a few times in some other threads, and this is something I've been thinking about a lot lately, at least partially because I've recently had to come to terms very quickly with my own fertility and reproductive role, and not without a certain amount of crying.
I'm an ardent supporter of the right to choose not to be a parent, and all of the reproductive rights we typically talk about, like abortion and birth control, as well as fighting against the societal pressures many people, particularly women, often face in their decisions to not have a child.
But there was always something nagging at my heart strings in those conversations that I could never quite articulate. Probably mostly because I never really fully understood how I felt about it until recently. And it had nothing to do with what anyone was saying, but what is often left un-said.
While reading the recent articles about lesbians being denied fertility treatments for not having sex with men, I came across this article about non-gestational parenting which suddenly and miraculously managed to put words to my feelings:
The Privilege of Parenting
I'm seeing more and more of my queer community opting in to having kids and it's great. I'm still hyper-aware that it's a privilege to be able to make parenting decisions. There is no affirmative right to parent, though there should be. When I was working as a community organizer in the reproductive justice field, I became really passionate about the right to parent. We talk so often about the right not to parent, the rights of people to make their own decisions about abortion, birth control, etc. As we should. Those rights are being constantly threatened and they are vitally important.
We are much less comfortable, even in reproductive rights activism, with the idea of people having an affirmative right to parent. We get squirmish about the right of teen moms and parents to choose to parent, about incarcerated women and people's rights to parent, about the rights of pregnant people who are recovering from addiction to parent, about poor people as parents. As we think about and talk about the rights of LGBTQ people to parent, we can't forget that so-called "traditional family values" impact not just our rights, but those of many people who are considered "unfit" or "undesirable" as parents simply for being who they are or because of their life circumstances. It's all related.
Adoption costs and fertility treatments are still not covered for many queer and/or trans people who want to parent. Surrogacy is still unprotected by law in many states. DIY insemination is still not protected by law in many states. It's still just something that's outside of many people's financial means. Class, race, and economic discrimination still play a huge part in who is allowed to pursue parenting decisions in addition to sexual orientation and gender discrimination.
This column is often glib and cutesy and I don’t mean to be a downer, but as more and more of our LGBTQ communities move towards growing our families with children, I really believe we have to stay vigilant. We can't let this become another way that queers get drawn into the mainstream heteronormative narrative. Being queer married and queer family-making still feels like a semi-radical act to me and I want it to stay that way, in large part by holding up the intersectional values that come with making and sustaining a queer family.
http://www.autostraddle.com/countdown-to-baby-t-rex-the-non-gestational-parent-perspective-and-my-enduring-love-for-pickles-37-weeks-345345/
I guess being at the intersection of being Native American, autistic, queer, and trans, I come from many worlds where people are not necessarily allowed to be parents, because of who they are, and I suppose in many ways I've internalized that and I've been subconsciously aware of that during all those conversations. Even before I came to understand my queerness and transness (relatively recently), among Native Americans and disabled people, there is a long history of being denied the right to parent, whether through forced sterilization or having their children taken away.
And of course, I'm now coming to terms with the fact that I'd rather be a mother than a father, and struggling with never really being able to carry a child and be a "biological mother" in quite the way I wish I could be. Even if I'm not 100% sure whether I want kids or not, I desperately wish that option were open to me.
And to get intersectional again, in terms of Native identity, I've struggled with issues of blood quantum and tribal enrollment, and how to raise my future children within my cultural heritage even if they are not related to me by blood.
(I ultimately decided to say "fuck it", and to forgo banking genetic material; if I have kids, they will be adopted. I'm not sure I could emotionally handle watching a partner go through pregnancy knowing I couldn't. I hope I'm able to adopt.)
And yet, I'm now excited about the prospect of potentially being a mother one day, and all of the amazing things that are biologically possible. Like lactating. I'd like to breastfeed, if they're at that age. It's possible, but there's very little research on it, and now that I'm Dr. Kuwi, and plan to stay in academia, someday I'd like to help find funding for research on inducing lactation for non-gestational parents who have breasts (and other cool queer things like better research on hormone replacement therapy).
So those are just some of my recent thoughts and feelings recently, and my happiness at finally finding a way to express how -- while I'm glad that we're talking about and fighting for reproductive rights, and the need to accept the choice to not be a parent -- I also wish we talked more about affirming the right to be a parent for people who are often denied that right, and the accompanying reproductive rights that we rarely discuss.
I've had complicated feelings about these things for a while now, but I haven't really understood or figured out how to express them in a way that made sense to me until now. And I keep getting inspired and understanding a little bit more as I read more about queer and trans parenting.
Thanks for listening.
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