Category: pride

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Bi-Sexual LGBTQ2S+ pride

Bisexual Clients Are Headed Your Way

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1727116431360{margin-bottom: 0px !important;}”]A Gallup poll conducted in 2021 found that 1 in 6 Gen Zers identify as LGBT+. Half of them identify as bisexual, with women being more likely to have this identity than men. For those of us working with pregnant clients, we can expect that Gen Z will account for an increasing share of our clientele.

Sometimes our students tell us that they don’t believe the LGBTQ content in our Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion model isn’t relevant for them because they don’t expect to serve LGBTQ people in their practice. That expectation is becoming profoundly unrealistic. Many people are Queer or Trans, but you have to create a welcoming environment for those clients to open up to you.

This is especially true for Bisexual people. While Bisexual people are the largest group within the LGBTQ population, we are also the most invisible. That’s why our awareness day is called Bisexual Visibility Day (September 21). Data shows that bisexual people are more likely than other sexual minorities to stay in the closet, and less likely to engage with the Queer community. This leads to higher rates of mental illness, suicide and other bad outcomes among the bisexual population. Even for bisexual people who are out, bi identity gets erased if we settle down in long-term, monogamous relationships. Many people find themselves being lumped into the categories of “gay” or “straight” depending on their relationship status.

This impact becomes more profound when bisexual people choose to parent. Cultural beliefs about the nuclear family intersect with assumptions about relationships, making many bisexual parents feel even less free to express their authentic selves.

We can improve outcomes for bisexual people and families by dismantling some of these inaccurate beliefs. I have been at LGBTQ family drop-ins where opposite-sex couples in attendance get side-eyed and are less likely to be engaged in conversation because of the assumption that they are straight people taking up queer space. We need to challenge ourselves to step outside of those limiting beliefs.

Conversely, many bisexual people don’t feel at home in straight parenting spaces either. We find ourselves thrown into uncomfortable conversations where straight, monogamous relationships are a “norm” that may not apply to our lives and histories. Once, in a group of otherwise straight parents, I was asked to tell the story of how my wife and I met. Since we met through mutual acquaintances connected to an ex-boyfriend she was dating at the time (years before we started dating), her dating history came up. At that point, one of the parents responded incredulously, “Wait a second, did you turn her?”.

Of course, my wife and I laughed about it later and I’ve thought of all sorts of hilarious responses to the suggestion that I “turned” my wife bisexual like you turn a person into a vampire. But at the time I felt pretty put on the spot and there was no clever quip at the tip of my tongue. I know the parent who asked was sincerely curious and meant no harm. However, I’ve been out as bi for over a quarter of a century. It’s obviously not a phase, and continuously finding myself in conversations where bisexuality isn’t considered a possibility or worse, gets dismissed, is exhausting.

As parents and birth workers, we need to open our awareness to the presence of bisexual people in our communities. We need to abandon the idea that we can assume a person’s sexual identity based on their appearance, mannerisms, or relationship status. Embracing conversations with curiosity, and being free from assumptions and judgment is a great first step.

Some very persistent myths about bisexuality need to be identified as untrue. Bisexuals are not confused, it is not a phase. We are not “switching sides” as we navigate different relationships. Bisexuality does not impact our ability to participate in any relationship modality truthfully. There are monogamous, ethically non-monogamous, and polyamorous bisexual people. Being in a long-term, monogamous relationship does not change a person’s bisexuality. It’s about the breadth of our capacity to love and be loved.

People of all relationship statuses and sexual identities should be supported to parent. As doulas, creating a space where clients feel welcome to bring all aspects of themselves to the birth room and new parenthood is a powerful offering that supports families in realizing the brightest possible future.

 

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]

Categories
LGBTQ2S+ pride

Pride is Being There for Each Other

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text title=”Pride is Being There for Each Other” css=”.vc_custom_1717529719709{margin-bottom: 0px !important;}”]Nowadays, the word “Pride” is almost immediately associated with “Parade” in many people’s minds. But in the LGBT2SQ+ community we know that at its inception “Pride” went with “Protest”.

Most people think of the Stonewall Riots as the start of the gay liberation movement in North America. Here in Toronto, we had a similar watershed moment that acted as a catalyst for the emergence of the June Pride Festival. On February 5, 1981, Metropolitan Toronto Police initiated Operation Soap. Four Toronto bathhouses were raided and over 300 men were arrested. This was the largest mass arrest in Canadian history at the time. The arrests caused careers and families to be destroyed. The event sparked nation-wide protests and was an important turning point for Queer and Trans liberation in Canada.

These protests and rallies denouncing Operation Soap evolved into the Toronto Pride Festival, one of the largest pride festivals in the world.

In the four and a half decades since Operation Soap, there have been many reasons for our community to celebrate. We’ve made important strides forward like marriage equality and easier access to family-building. And by celebrating our identities, we resist the pressure to hide, assimilate, and deny our truth.

However, Pride still needs to be a protest. Backlash is here and it’s a real threat. Unfortunately, children seem to be the primary targets of this backlash. There is a movement aiming to make it hard for kids with queer parents to talk openly about their families and be affirmed at school while making it difficult for kids with cis, straight parents to learn that queers exist and humanize them. This movement also aims to force educators to disclose confidential information about the gender identity of their students, which would inevitably expose some of these children to abuse. A federal ban on conversion therapy in 2022 has simply driven the practice more underground, and no charges have been laid under the new legislation. Kids can’t show up to listen to drag queens read stories without having to walk past a phalanx of angry anti-trans protestors.

We can drown out this hateful backlash with a flood of compassion. It starts by declaring proudly and unequivocally that you affirm queer and trans people in your birth work practice. Then, you bring the skills to the table.

Here’s a guide to resources that can support you in growing a queer and trans-competent birthwork practice.

The Queer Doula Toolkit

This free download developed by Wellness Within and Nova Scotia Public Interest Research Group (NPIRG) is a must-have resource for birth workers supporting queer and trans clients. It is choc full of educational resources and fillable exercises. Some of these are on topics that are relevant to the 2SLGBTQ communities, like pronouns, queer families, and queer terminology. Others go over the usual perinatal health topic in a queer-trans-inclusive way. The toolkit is illustrated with vividly realized characters encompassing humans of all shapes, sizes, colours, gender presentations, abilities, and family structures.

The fillable exercises include a queer-affirming and trauma-informed birth plan. The birth plan is supported by trauma-informed reflections that ask the client to reflect on their triggers and potential coping strategies. The strategies can be documented in the plan, including how their doula can help.

 

Books & TV

Why Did No One Tell Me This? The doulas’ honest guide for expectant parents.

This book is a great resource for parents and birth workers. It’s not specifically queer, but it is written from an intersectional standpoint and uses inclusive language and imagery throughout. It’s a great option for parents looking to supplement their prenatal class or work with a doula and affirms a wide range of birthing people.

 

What Makes a Baby?

If the older sibling of a gayby (child of same-sex parents) wants to know where their new sibling came from, this is the book for them. Appropriate for early-years children, it answers the question “Where do babies come from?” in a way that is scientific and inclusive of the various ways in which queer and trans people family-build.

 

 

Flamingo Rampant

This independent children’s press has a beautiful and ever-growing selection of children’s books that celebrate the diversity of families and identities. Operating from an intersectional social justice lens, this publisher prioritizes stories about gender and sexually diverse children, youth, adults and families doing things that are bold, cool, adventurous and fun without making identity the focus of the story. Each book radiates a message of joy, acceptance, community, and love.

 

 

 

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]

Categories
Anti-Oppression birth Canada community Equity fear intersectionality LGBTQ2S+ pride reducing stigma sexual health shame

The Importance of Being Seen: Trans Day of Visibility & Pink Shirt Day

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When I was a kid, we were taught that not seeing differences, or being “colour-blind” was the right way to be “tolerant” and “accepting” of diversity. We hear echoes of this sentiment when we hear “They can do whatever they want behind closed doors, but why do they have to flaunt it in our faces?”

March 31 was Trans Day of Visibility and April 10 was International Day of Pink. Both observances attest to the importance of being seen as an integral dimension of human rights and inclusion. People who can only be their authentic selves behind closed doors can’t hold their same-sex partner’s hand during the anatomy ultrasound, or tell their care team that they want to be called “Papa” after they give birth. People who are forced to hide their identity behind closed doors are at risk of getting beaten up in bathrooms and dying by suicide behind closed doors. Trans people need to be seen so that kids like Nex Bennedict can go to school safely. Behind closed doors is exactly where abuse and violence hide.

Having safety to be seen means being able to fully participate in society. It boils down to countless everyday things that people take for granted when their identities are not contested. Being able to use public washrooms without risking confrontation or violence. Accessing information on reproductive health that normalizes your body and healthcare experiences. Not being asked to explain where your partner is at prenatal appointments when they are in the exam room with you. Being able to find pregnancy attire that aligns with your usual style.

Trans and queer people need to call for visibility and wear pink to get noticed so that we can lead normal lives.

As birth workers, here are some things we can do to help queer and trans folks feel seen in the reproductive and perinatal wellness sphere:

  • State explicitly in your promotional materials that you welcome and affirm queer and trans people
  • Use gender-neutral language in your promotional materials and handouts
  • Have open conversations with clients about their preferred pronouns and terms for their parenting roles and body parts.
  • Become familiar with resources in your community that support queer and trans families so you can make great referrals.
  • Educate yourself on health inequities faced by queer and trans birthers
  • Challenge queer and transphobia in yourself and others

You can find out more about Trans VisibilityVisibilty Day here

You can find out more about International Day of Pink here

 

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]

Categories
Anti-Oppression community connection Equity intersectionality LGBTQ2S+ Newsletters pride understanding bias vulnerabiliity

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]

Categories
Anti-Oppression intersectionality LGBTQ2S+ pride Uncategorised vulnerabiliity

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]

Categories
balance birth Business Equity intersectionality Labour Doula LGBTQ2S+ Postpartum Doula pride

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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