Invisible Families

When I was a child, they didn’t teach about my family in school. They didn’t talk about my family on television or in the movies and definitely not in books. At least not the books I ever came into contact with at my library or school. If my family was mentioned at all, it was to condemn, ridicule, or shame. Why? Because I have a gay father.

The messages I heard repeatedly from my childhood were loud and clear in everything I read, everywhere I looked, and everywhere I went. I must be the only one. My family must be something I’m supposed to hide – a difference not to be celebrated, but embarrassed and ashamed of. My family, and therefore I, must be less than, unwelcome, an outcast, deserving of the harsh treatment because otherwise someone would try to stop it, someone would talk about it, someone would tell me it was ok, right? These messages followed me throughout my middle school and high school years and into college. Never once did I meet another kid like me, never once did a teacher acknowledge families like mine existed, never once did I not feel fear that someone would find out my secret and tease and shame me for it. My family was invisible. I was invisible.

At the end of my junior year of college, after I had told maybe a handful of people my entire life about my family, I was sitting at a computer researching scholarships. When out of nowhere I found an organization called, COLAGE. An organization for children who have lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender parents! I couldn’t believe it! I wasn’t the only one, I wasn’t an outcast! I wasn’t supposed to be ashamed. No, in fact, I could be proud! Proud of my family and our difference because that is what made us unique, and not only that but there were tons of us out there. Tons of unique families filled with love and compassion and understanding just like mine. The heavy weight of a secret I had been carrying around for so long began to lessen. I could tell my story and people would listen. And not just listen but they would support me, they would be happy for me, they would welcome me.

So I began telling my story. After I graduated college, I moved to San Francisco, the headquarters of COLAGE, to work with them in promoting acceptance of ALL families. I graduated with a degree in architecture, but I knew I just had to take a year to tell my story first, architecture could wait. I had to lessen this weight – it was not mine to carry anymore. So I joined the ranks of other COLAGE kids finding our voices. I spoke out. I told my story. I wrote it down. I talked on panels in schools about the importance of acceptance and the existence of families like mine. I told my story for that little kid back in middle school who was thinking he was the only one – who was frozen in fear about being ridiculed for his family. I told my story in the hope that one of those kids would hear it and know they were not alone. I told people how we’re just like you AND we’re completely different. We are unique, we are special, we are important, we belong and we deserve respect. We deserve to see our families reflected in the world we live in. We are the children of LGBT parents and we deserve to be seen and heard, not silenced and told to sit in class and pretend that we don’t exist for the comfort of others.

Some things have changed since I was a child, and yet families like mine still work for acceptance in our society. Lately with the elections in California and Maine, we hear all these messages about protecting the children. Protecting the children so they don’t have to hear about gay people. “It will be taught in schools!” they say. What will? That these families exist. That our families are filled with loving caring people. That we are humans also and deserve respect and support. “Protect the children!” they shout.

But, what about the children who are like me? Is respect for our families something that others should get to vote on only to show us that the “majority” still thinks of us as less than, unwelcome, unimportant, outcasts? Is our self-esteem less important? Does the majority really get to vote about a minority? “Protect the children!” they shout. So are the children of LBGT parents expendable?

I have first-hand knowledge of the internal struggle that is a result when society through its actions and laws and propositions answers these questions with a resounding, “Yes, you are expendable.” Children receive messages every day telling them how they should be, act, and look and what to believe in order to be accepted. Many messages are so commonplace that they often go undetected and unchallenged. Yet often the messages that affect us the most are the ones that ignore us and pretend that we don’t exist. Those messages that sting so deeply when we go to look in our world and we don’t see ourselves or our situation staring back. Or, if we do, it is inaccurate and hurtful. What message do we send our children when we pass laws that say only certain kinds of people get something while others do not? Does it not send them the message that it is ok to ignore those others, that it is ok to be hurtful towards them and disrespect them?

Change is slow. I cannot often change the overall message in our current culture about my family, and I couldn’t do it when I was a child either. What I could do though was find my voice and connect with my own knowing. I could become visible. That is what made me strong and gave me greater compassion and understanding for all different ways of being. That is what helped me become immune to the hurtful messages. There are still hardly any books about my family but I can write my own. There are still hardly any movies about my family but I can make my own. There are still laws that discriminate but I can work for change.

How do we really protect the children? We give them a voice. We help connect them with their true selves. We empower them to know and accept themselves and be proud of who they are. We teach them to make their own reflections when the world still lacks what they need. Empowered children are strong and resilient. The world may continue to lack acceptance and respect but while we wait and work to help the rest of the world catch up, we give children the tools to protect themselves now. A strong sense of self cannot be taken away by laws and propositions and majority rule. That is how we can truly protect the children. That is how we change the world.

Filed under LGBTQI Families | Tags: acceptance, empowerment, family, lgbt, reflection | Comments (3)