
Coming out is a vulnerable process. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a joyful process too. But the joy is accompanied by society’s derision in ways both personal and structural. For whatever reason, shedding cisheteronormative assumptions and sharing your authentic self causes insecure people to dehumanize you.
Joy and vulnerability exist in a precarious balance. Everyone is subject to this balance, and violence from a hostile world chips away at the foundation of euphoria. This foundation is particularly fragile during the early stages of embodying a queer identity as you rapidly learn more about yourself and as your relationships shift around you. Reproducing joy and confidence in the face of hostilities is a revolutionary and constructive process.
This process (particularly in the face of capitalism) is called social reproduction. As the coming out process unfolds, we crave a nurturing which assures us that things will get better. Typically, social reproduction occurs in the home within the nuclear family. As Fulvia Serra writes in a 2015 article for Viewpoint Magazine:
Self-sustenance, of course, does not refer exclusively to the material reproduction of oneself. More than just food and shelter go into the maintenance of our life. Emotional and intellectual nurturing are just as necessary and are usually provided in ways that are hard to measure, primarily by women and especially by mothers.
However, coming out often leads to physical and/or emotional alienation from the nuclear family. So, how can we restore our joy when the assumed site of social reproduction is not available to us?
Elephants living in Mt. Elgon National Park in Kenya are endangered due to poaching and human-elephant conflict. These elephants navigate deep into local salt caves where they raise their children away from poachers.
The solution: we take it upon ourselves to craft social environments that affirm us and reproduce our joy. Specific strategies vary, but the resulting community supplants the nuclear family as the site of social reproduction. After severing the traditional ties between generations, queer family lacks a definitive hierarchical structure. Relationships are built on mutual respect and common experiences (rather than generational differences), creating an active and amorphous community of carers. Often, this community appropriates the language of family for queer experiences, and queer mothers1 become important nurturers in the absence of a nuclear mother.
The best mainstream example of queer family is the FX show Pose with its award-winning cast of queer and trans people of color and depiction of Ballroom culture in the 1980’s and 1990’s. Particularly, the character of Blanca (played by Michaela Jaé Rodriguez2) embodies ideal queer motherhood as her chosen family navigates the HIV/AIDS epidemic and a reactionary society.
Nurturing is a labor which takes a toll on the caregiver. The labor of love is often performed at the expense of the carer’s own reserves of joy, and mothers tend to replenish their joy in the presence of family. Pose does not gloss over this reality. Blanca is routinely coaxed by her children into communal self-restoration. In fact, these are some of the most beautiful scenes because of they portray an outpouring of love between queer family.
Broadly, society overlooks reproductive labor - especially when it occurs outside the nuclear family. Queer mothers get even less recognition than nuclear mothers which is why Blanca is such a beloved character and why spotlighting queer motherhood is so important.
California two-spot octopus mothers sacrifice themselves for their children. Before their eggs hatch, mothers enter a “death spiral” that involves self-mutilation: the ultimate self-sacrifice for their offspring.
This year, I got excited when I spotted a Mother’s Day card that was explicitly for a mother figure outside of the nuclear family. It reads, “I realize you are not technically my mom. But without you I’m not sure I’d be a functional human being.” I immediately thought of my queer mom and purchased it.
I definitely would not be a functional human being without her. She is the person I seek out to bitch with when my work is devalued, or after I am harassed, or when the tomfoolery of the world gets to be too much.
She is one of my lab mates, and we became close over the pandemic at weekly lab zoom hangouts that were poorly attended. Often, it was just the two of us chatting for an hour or two - a highlight of my quarantined week!! At the same time, I was coming into my trans identity, and it was soothing to cultivate a relationship with an out and proud lesbian, superstar scientist.
We commiserate in struggles against systems that weren’t designed to accommodate anyone aside from white, cisgender, heterosexual men. But she also sends me K-Pop music videos and Instagrams of lesbians walking around a craft store while hiding a cat in their jacket. It always brings a smile to my face, and without her nurturance I would have lost my newfound thread of joy long ago. I will forever be grateful. Thank you.
The Moluccan eclectus parrot, native to the Maluku Islands in eastern Indonesia, displays a strong maternal instinct. Hens readily accept abandoned eggs from other parrot species and raise the hatchlings as their own.
To help reproduce your joy (if needed), here’s a live recording of Big Freedia, the Queen Diva, performing her song “Chasing Rainbows” while accompanied by the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra.
Animal facts in this post are courtesy of a chosen sister who requested to remain nameless due to the chaotic nature of some facts.
Mother is gendered, and therefore it’s an imperfect term to describe the full range of identities that perform social reproduction in queer communities. I see you too queer fathers and parents!! My interest in queer motherhood specifically is due to my identity as a femme, my personal reliance on support from other women and femmes, and the ways in which social reproduction is a traditionally gendered form of labor.
For her role as Blanca, Michaela Jaé Rodriguez won a Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Television Series Drama in 2022 at the 79th edition of the award ceremony. She is the first (and, as of this writing, only) openly transgender person to win a Golden Globe for acting. Check out her AppleTV+ show Loot with Maya Rudolph!!
I'd never heard of the term social reproduction before! I really appreciate it as a way of thinking about nurturing, joy, and resistance.
Looking at the Wikipedia, I'm a little surprised at how many different sort of denotations there are for it. Where did you first find it?
What would make a good gender-neutral term for "mother"? Care giver? Nurser? Nurturer?