They're Just Not That Into You
When fellow queer parents don't want to be friends (plus WTF is a jolly jar?)
An interesting problem has been brought to me by a reader and they have given me their permission to share it with you as I think it points to something wider about LGBTQ parenting which I would love to get into.
So Matt and James (not their real names for obvious reasons) were thrilled to find that another kid in their son’s reception class had two Dads. “It felt so reassuring to know he wouldn’t be the only one, and I was picturing combined family days out together, our splinter sassy What’sApp groups, our late night wine sessions at each other’s houses while our kids had a sleepover”, Matt told me.
The other couple barely responded to any of the messages that Matt and James sent. “We texted - ‘have a great First Day at school’ before the kids started in September and received a thumbs up in response. That pretty much set the tone”.
But two months into their first school term this queer family bromance has enjoyed barely a fizz of such fun. And it’s not for want of trying. “Maybe we came on a bit strong”, says James. “As soon as we met at the first school induction day I took their numbers and set up a chat group. We seemed to have lots in common - we are in adjacent-ish industries, we’re a similar age but mostly we share the experience of having adopted our children as a two-Dad family. I really thought these were the ingredients for a great friendship”.
The other couple barely responded to any of the messages that Matt and James sent. “We texted - have a great First Day at school before the kids started in September and received a thumbs up in response. That pretty much set the tone”.
At the school gates, the couple say their fellow gay adoptive Dads are always polite and friendly but don’t ask them any questions about their life outside of the school or seem interested in offering any more than a perfunctory “All good thanks” in answer to questions about their own wellbeing. “We’re so disappointed”, James admits, “they just don’t seem to like us or even want to get to know us at all. Our kids aren’t really becoming friends either so I guess it’s only going to be a bit of small talk at pick-up or at one of the children in their class’ birthday party for the next six years!”
Although being part of the same ‘community’ must stand for something, perhaps it’s not enough to sustain a friendship.
I was interested to explore the expectation that queer parents are going to automatically hit it off with other queer parents. Part of me feels that yes, we should really make an effort to connect and build a meaningful relationship if we are lucky enough to find that there is another LGBTQ family in our child’s class at school. It’s our duty!
Or is it?
Although being part of the same ‘community’ must stand for something, perhaps it’s not enough to sustain a friendship.
What do you think? What advice would you give Matt and James? Should they just move on and accept that the other gay Dads are just not into them, or continue to make an effort to break through the small talk and build a deeper kind of friendship for the good of their children and the small LGBTQ parenting community?
Talk to me!
Meanwhile being the parent of a school-going child is becoming a full-time job in the Jeffs household. Last week I went on a school trip to a Hindu temple on Wednesday which involved escorting 60 children across south east London on buses. And then Thursday was a cheese and wine evening for parents hosted in the school hall, then Friday was reading morning in the classroom. We had to order school photos, design a Christmas card, bring in winter coats for a charity collection, volunteer for Christmas crafting, sign up and pay for singing class, and then just when I was nearing burnout an email went out informing me that all children are required to make a Jolly Jar at home.
A JOLLY JAR? Cue the class What’sApp popping off about WTF is a jolly jar??. From what I understand it’s a repurposed jam jar decorated by your kid and filled with sweets or stickers or pom poms or the contents of your jacket pocket, that are then sold to other kids in the school for a pound. So your child goes into school with one Jolly Jar and comes home with another. Cute - but at this time of year it’s enough to have me filling my own jolly jar with gin.
PS. We now have our own queer parent private chat channel. Join us!
How to get started
Download the app by clicking this link or the button below. Chat is only on iOS for now, but chat is coming to the Android app soon.
Open the app and tap the Chat icon. It looks like two bubbles in the bottom bar, and you’ll see a row for our chat inside.
That’s it! Come and say hi, and if you have any issues, check out Substack’s FAQ.
This week Claire Lynch the brilliant author of Small: On Motherhoods which is essential reading for any parent takes the Gay-Ze Q&A
Name, age, location and how do you identify including pronouns please :-)
Claire Lynch, 41. I live near Windsor in the UK. I identify as a gay woman/lesbian and my pronouns are she/her.
Who’s in your family (and what do your kids call you?)
We’re Mummy (me), Mama (my wife, Bethan) and our three daughters, twins Megan and Orla are 7 years old and Wren is 3. I haven’t included the cat and hamster in the official headcount but they probably deserve an honorary mention.
What three words describe your journey to becoming a parent?
I’d say we were hopeful, humbled, transformed, in that order.
How did you become a parent eg known donor/adoption/surrogacy etc?
After a number of false starts, an anonymous donor and reciprocal IVF.
What was the lowest moment on the way to building your family?
I found the sense of helplessness really difficult to cope with, that realisation that, no matter how much you want something to happen, it’s ultimately beyond your control.
Do you remember anything about your first day with children of your own? What were you thinking/ feeling / most worried about?
Our twins were born prematurely so the first day was nothing but worry to be honest. But I also remember feeling as if I suddenly had a kind of super power or hulk-like strength I could tap into, a new certainty that I would do anything for them.
What from your own childhood would you most love your kid to love too?
I’m desperate for everyone to get on board with Bedknobs and Broomsticks which my brother and I can quote word for word. I’ve also passed on my embarrassingly large collection of Sylvanian Families and we’ve got a Sunday morning routine going now, helping tiny little hedgehogs arrange the furniture in the windmill, or setting up the minuscule croissants in the bakery window.
Who is your queer parent hero?
PLEASE CONSIDER PAYING WHAT AMOUNTS TO ABOUT £4 A MONTH TO SUPPORT US IN BRINGING YOU THIS NEWSLETTER EACH WEEK. BUILDING A COMMUNITY AND SHARING STORIES IS AN AMAZING OPPORTUNITY BUT IT IS ALSO HARD WORK AND YOUR SUPPORT MAKES IT POSSIBLE, FINANCIALLY, TO KEEP DEVOTING THE TIME TO IT. SO HUGE THANKS TO ALL OUR PAID SUBSCRIBERS. IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY A FREE SUBSCRIBER PLEASE DO THINK ABOUT UPGRADING
