Doula School Canada

Category: LGBTQ2S+

  • Bisexual Visibility Day

    Bisexual Visibility Day

    [vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1695560834217{margin-bottom: 0px !important;}”]According to national data, bisexuals make up the lion’s share of the LGB population. Yet, we are also the most invisible. This is because sexual orientation is usually interpreted based on relationship status and household composition, rather than on how an individual experiences their sexuality.

    My wife and I have been together for 16 years, and co-parenting together for 11 years. We are both bisexual. Rarely is our family interpreted accurately by the outside world. I am Black, she is white, our kid is mixed race and presents as Black. We are also both femmes. As a result of these factors, we have been in countless interactions where my wife has been interpreted, and treated as “my friend who helps me out with my kid”. She has actually been a part of every moment of his life since he was an ultrasound image.

    If she takes him to medical appointments she is asked to substantiate who she is in relation to him, or now that he is older, he has been asked to confirm her identity. This doesn’t happen when I take him to medical appointments. It is a good practice to confirm the relationship between adults and children at medical appointments. However, this seems to be happening based on race, sexual orientation, and gender-based assumptions about families, rather than as a universal safety precaution.

    We’ve come a long way in terms of normalizing same-sex households, but as recently as this past school year, our kid came home with a form that had spots for “mother” and “father”. It is so easy to create a form that has two spaces for “parent/guardian”. Outdated forms such as this one exclude a lot of families that aren’t “same-sex households”. 

    In general, we’re not very surprised by these microaggressions as we navigate a heterosexist world. What often lands more painfully are the microaggressions from within the LGBTQ community in relation to our bisexuality.

    Recently, we were at a comedy night that was heavily attended by queer and trans people. Despite the largely queer crowd, one of the comedians made a biphobic joke. We groaned and gave each other knowing eye-rolls. This reaction sparked a conversation with a lesbian couple that was seated at the same table. We got to chatting with them and when we revealed that we have been together for the better part of 2 decades and are raising a child together, they made a remark that we have heard in lesbian spaces before: “Oh, well it’s like you’re lesbians then”. 

    Like many microaggressions, the intention was clearly complimentary, but that’s definitely not how it landed. We are proud bisexual women. Our relationship with each other doesn’t change that. In these conversations, we find ourselves resisting the temptation to disclose being polyamorous and our relationships with men as a counterargument. No one should have to justify being Bi. That is just what some people are. We all understand that a person who’s been celibate for an extended amount of time isn’t necessarily asexual. It’s the same thing really. My sexual orientation is the one I was born with. Relationships are choices I make over time.

    Not all same-sex couples are gay and lesbian. Not all different-sex couples are straight. Many of us raise children using a variety of family and community structures. Being told we are not real or that our identity is a phase hurts. 

    A great way to make the world less painful for bisexuals and their families is to normalize and represent different family structures. Right now, there is a culture war over when it’s okay to start talking to kids about LGBTQ+ people. 

    Who among us can remember receiving an explanation about marriage and families? We take for granted that there is no need to explain these concepts. We learn about these and other institutions by observing the world around us. LGBTQ+ people are part of the world. Representing queer and trans folk in a child’s world from day one is how we present an accurate portrait of reality.

    There is content that affirms family diversity for all ages. Independent children’s publisher Flamingo Rampant offers an excellent selection of children’s books that show race, sexual, bodily, ability, and gender diversity with people and families doing all sorts of fun and magical things. Super Power Baby Shower by Toby Hill-Meyer and Fay Onyx tells the story of a queer, polyamorous family of superheroes preparing to have a baby! 

     Keira Grant (she/her) brings a wealth of experience to her EDI Co-Lead role. She is a Queer, Black woman with a twenty-year track record in Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion (EDI) education, projects, and community-building initiatives. As a mom and partner, she uses her lived experience to provide support and reflection for her clients and her work. Keira is the owner of Awakened Changes Perinatal Doula Services.

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  • Unlearning the Nuclear Family

    Unlearning the Nuclear Family

    [vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1685714926487{margin-bottom: 0px !important;}”]When I was a kid in the 80s, the family sitcom dominated television. From the Huxtables to the Keatons, to the Seavers, it was always Mom, Dad, and 2.5 kids. By then, the nuclear family had become the norm, so usually, both Mom and Dad worked outside the home. 

    I always knew I wanted to be a mom someday. Even though my family didn’t look like the ones I saw on TV (I was raised by an Aunt and a Grandma), somehow it never occurred to me that the family I made someday would look different from the ones I saw on TV. I always pictured Daddy, babies, and me.

    As I got older and came out as bisexual, my visions of future family life expanded to include the possibility of parenting with a “Daddy” or another “Mommy”, but I was still locked into a really nuclear understanding of what “families” looked like. 

    Now my life has taught me a lot better. I do parent my only child with my wife, but welcoming Baby into our family made so much more than three. Our chosen family comprised of friends and partners from our queer and polyamorous communities has always been a huge part of our parenting journey.

    We know many beautiful families configured in ways that transcend a couple with kids. We know quartets of a lesbian couple and a gay couple who have chosen to co-parent. We know gay and lesbian besties who have chosen to co-parent with their respective biological and chosen families behind them. We know lesbian couples with a known sperm donor who is deeply involved in their child’s life. There are triads or “thrupples” (a partnership involving 3 adults) who choose to raise families. This could look like a mom having a baby with each of her two male partners, or two women each having a baby with their male partner or any other number of ways of creating a family.

    The reality is that Queer and Trans Culture isn’t just about having a life partner who was assigned the same sex as you at birth. Our cultural norms are forged from a history where the most conventional, nuclear way that we could have a family was still socially unacceptable. Many of us and our queer elders were rejected by our biological families for being honest about who we are. As a result, our community has been resourceful and resilient in carving out new ways of defining “family” and building family units that allow us to be whole. We create our own villages that know who we are, where we’ve been, and where we’re going to support us while we child rear and do this thing called life.

    5 was a vital turning point for queer and trans families. It made the relationship to the child the focus of parental rights, rather than biology. The law also makes it possible for more than two people to be the legal parents of a child. This legal change was extremely important, but it’s only a fraction of the needed social change.

    We must unlearn the idea that “parent+parent+kid(s)=family”. There are infinite equations that can add up to a family. As professional support people, we can embrace the expectation that clients seeking our help could come in ones, twos, or more, reflecting any mix of gender identities. 

    We can also expect that folks living outside the parental binary are seeking our support specifically because they can expect that other parts of the health and social service systems don’t expect them, and might be hostile toward anything or anyone that challenges their expectations. We can create an unconditional blanket of compassion and support around all the beautiful shapes and sizes that families come in. That blanket is also a shield against fear and hate that preserves the sacredness of the parenting journey for all people.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][mk_padding_divider][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1686178152124{margin-bottom: 0px !important;}”]

    Keira Grant (she/her) Inclusion and Engagement Lead – Racialized Communities

    Keira brings a wealth of experience to the Online Community Moderator role. She is a Queer, Black woman with a twenty-year track record in Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion (EDI) education, projects, and community building initiatives.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • Why Representation Matters.

    [vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”502714″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][mk_padding_divider][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1685976157863{margin-bottom: 0px !important;}”]As Pride month comes to a start, I decided to write a more personal piece for the Doula Canada blog. As many queer people know, the process of coming out isn’t linear nor a one time deal. Queer people often come out over and over, in every day interactions. We decide whether or not its safe to come out, whether or not it will have repercussions professionally, socially, and within our family circles. Pride comes with a lot of baggage. Working at a feminist vocational school, that celebrates diversity and inclusion, I know that writing this is a safe space. 

    You see, I’m freshly out. I’ve been “out” as pansexual for about five years, but being “conceptually queer” and “actively queer” feel very different. Not that pansexuals do not struggle, we do, but we have one of those “border” identities where we can experience privilege and oppression at the same time, i.e. “passing”. Being able to pansexual while being in opposite sex relationships had a sense of “safety” in it. I could identify as queer, but also feel accepted and included by following compulsory heterosexuality. 

    What is that you ask? Compulsory heterosexuality is the concept that society favors those who act in heterosexual ways. Our social norms favor heterosexuality, and it is assumed to be the default. You see this when someone asks you if you have a spouse of the opposite sex. When teachers can speak about their partners freely (as long as they are straight) and we assume things about strangers we do not know. Being conceptually queer, but passing as “actively straight” kept me safe. I didn’t have to have uncomfortable conversations, debate whether someone would be accepting of my partner, or wonder if it would be a deal breaker for a job. Until one day, passing didn’t work for me.

    I’m 28 years old from a rural area in Northeastern Ontario. I went to a Catholic school where bringing a partner of the same sex to prom was forbidden, and we were told our “lifestyles” were unnatural and against God. I came from an area where queer people were (visibly) few and far between, and if they were outed they were ostracized for being “predators” or other horrendous, homophobic things. At one point, I thought I was queer when I was about 14 years old. A school counselor told me that all girls feel that way at some point, and I believed her. As I grew up, I thought I was emotionally bankrupt to all my boyfriends, that perhaps I was asexual, or traumatized, and that one day I would marry a husband. Asexuality and trauma are valid, but for me, it was a mask that seemed “more appropriate or acceptable” than the thought that I may be attracted to women. I didn’t realize that most women don’t see finding a husband as a begrudging task on a to-do list. This was compounded by the “ball and chain” rhetoric of a heteronormative and often misogynist society. Dating, sex, and marriage is supposed to be disappointing if you are a woman with a man (we’re often told).  It was easier for me to believe I may be asexual or traumatized than to think I may one day marry a woman. This is when I realized, I may not be attracted to men at all. But I didn’t know what that would look like.

    Representation matters, because I had none. 

    I was 20 before I saw a lesbian in a professional role, that wasn’t actively trying to hide her identity from the institution she was employed from. She was my Women’s Studies 1000 professor, and I thought about how brave that was. I didn’t realize that queer women could be out in positions of power without punishment.

    I was 24 before I realized that you could be queer without ostracization in a bigger city. I was surrounded by queer friends who were living their joyful lives, loving their partners, and living (mostly) without harassment.

    I was 26 before I met my first queer couple with children. I was downtown Toronto and finally seeing lesbian and gay couples living loud and proud, and simple and boring just like any other couples. I had never seen pregnancy and childrearing in queer couples, and had always tied my dream of having kids with being in a heterosexual relationship. Representation changed this for me.

    How does this relate to doula work? Easy. If you’re a queer doula, you are actively showing the world that queer people belong in the doula space. If you’re creating inclusive advertising for trans and queer people, you are telling them you see them, and they belong in the reproductive health discussion. When you use a trans person’s pronouns, you are validating their experience and showing them you respect their identity. When you learn about surrogacy, IVF, and adoption support, you are creating more services for queer people to access.

    Representation matters because it shows queer youth, and queer adults that their experiences are normal, and can be expansive and joyful. It shows others the possibilities within being queer. It shows us our dreams can exist in a comphet society, and that we don’t have to give up a part of ourselves to be happy. So this pride, when you hear someone say “Why do they have to be so LOUD about it?” tell them its for every queer person who is forced to live quietly, and is silently listening.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_separator color=”violet”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1685976337654{margin-bottom: 0px !important;}”]

    Kayt (she/her) is an Anishnaabe kwe from Bonnechere Algonquin territory and the owner of Sweetgrass Solace Wholistic Support. Her post-secondary education includes a Bachelor of Social Work and Bachelor of the Arts in Indigenous Studies from Trent University (2021). She is also a certified hatha yoga teacher and a certifying birth and postpartum Doula.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • Doula Canada Presents: Anti-O Bingo

    Doula Canada Presents: Anti-O Bingo

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    Aaniin Doulas!

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    This month we are introducing a new EDI initiative, and we want our students and alumni to play! Introducing…. Anti-O Bingo!
    You’ve given your input, and we’re listening. Through our Truth and Reconciliation Action Plan, and our EDI surveys, we have identified anti-oppression and cultural training as one of the many areas Doula Canada doulas are interested in pursuing.

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    How to play:
    1. Click HERE to download your free Anti-O Bingo Card
    2. Attend an event from each category
    3. At each event, ask your facilitator for your custom .jpeg stamp. Paste it into a doc! (Remember to save it!). If you are attending a livestream (Just Birth, Fireside Chat, etc), please submit a paragraph on what you learned to kayt@stefanie-techops.wisdmlabs.net
    4. When you have all 8 stamps, please submit your doc to kayt@stefanie-techops.wisdmlabs.net for your Anti-Oppression in Doula Care 101 Certificate and a ballot to win an $100 Etsy Gift Card.

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    You have until December 31, 2023. Good Luck!

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    Chi Miigwetch! Nia:wen!
    Kayt Ward and Keira Grant, EDI Leads

    [/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”494571″ img_size=”full”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][mk_button corner_style=”rounded” size=”large” url=”https://stefanie-techops.wisdmlabs.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/edi-bingo.pdf” align=”center”]Get Your Anti-O Bingo Card here![/mk_button][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • Bringing Your Whole Self into the (Birth) Room

    Bringing Your Whole Self into the (Birth) Room

    [vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1623409186714{margin-bottom: 0px !important;}”]It’s June, which means it’s Pride month here in Ontario as well as many other places across Canada and the world. For many of us who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer, and/or Two Spirit, (LGBTQ2S) that means an opportunity to celebrate our identities, our relationships, our families, and our whole fabulous selves. But even as we take to the (virtual) streets, we might wonder about bringing our identities into our work with clients.

    You might be wondering, “Why do you have to bring your identity into your work? Why can’t you just keep the two things separate?” Bringing your identity into your work doesn’t necessarily mean beginning every introduction with, “Hi, I’m a doula and I’m gay!” (Though it can!) It means being able to use your pronouns, talk about your family, and share stories without having to edit yourself. It means not just seeing your clients, but also being seen by them.

    While everybody has different ideas of professionalism, our work as doulas is deeply personal and relational. Sharing between doulas and clients is rarely one sided, and doesn’t have to be. Straight and cisgender doulas share their identities all the time, whether talking about their husbands or posting a family photo on social media, it’s just not seen as coming out because those identities have already been assumed.   

    You might also be wondering how moving through the world as an LGBTQ2S doula might impact your business. It’s a real fear: homophobia and transphobia exist everywhere, and there are families who might choose not to hire you because of how you identify or present yourself. There are also families who will hire you exactly because of these things.  

    This doesn’t mean that you have to come out: it’s a deeply personal decision. LGBTQ2S doulas navigate their identities in many different ways. You can incorporate your identity into your business mandate and name, and choose to work primarily with LGBTQ2S communities. You can market to a broader audience but share how you identify in your bio or on social media. You can plaster your website with rainbows. You can ask and expect your clients to use your name and pronouns. You can come out in your meet and greet, or as your relationship with a client builds, or when they ask you about your family. You can come out to some clients and not to others. It’s up to you.

    Whatever you choose to do, we’re proud of you.

     

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