MA MAJOR RESEARCH PAPER

Linking LGBTQ2S Family Planning Into Reproductive Justice Movements:

My Experiences as a Volunteer at the 519 Church Street Community Centre,
A Literature Review and Environmental Scan of Toronto’s
LGBTQ2S Family and Parenting Services

Celeste Ali-Akow
500620750

Professor Doreen Fumia, Ph.D.

The Major Research Paper is submitted in

partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of
Master of Arts

Public Policy and Administration

Ryerson University
Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Friday, September 11, 2015

© Copyright by Celeste Ali-Akow 2015

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AUTHOR'S DECLARATION FOR ELECTRONIC SUBMISSION OF A MRP

I, Celeste Ali-Akow, hereby declare that I am the sole author of this MRP. This is a true copy of

the MRP, including any required final revisions, as accepted by my examiners.

I authorize Ryerson University to lend this MRP to other institutions or individuals for the

purpose of scholarly research.

I further authorize Ryerson University to reproduce this MRP by photocopying or by other

means, in total or in part, at the request of other institutions or individuals for the purpose of

scholarly research.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Glossary of Terms............................................................................................................................... 3
Introduction......................................................................................................................................... 4
Methodology............................................................................................................................... 6
Theoretical Framework............................................................................................................... 7
Chapter Organization.................................................................................................................. 8

Chapter 1: Queer Family Formation: Historical Overview........................................................... 9

Queering Kinship...................................................................................................................... 10
Family Secrets: Gay and Lesbian Families in the post-war era (1945-1969)........................... 13
Gay and Lesbian Parents Activism and the Gay Liberation Movement (1969-1990).............. 15
Lesbian and Gay Baby Boom (1990-2010).............................................................................. 19

Chapter 2: Queer Family Pathways – Adoption, Co-Parenting, Assisted Human Reproduction,

and Surrogacy.................................................................................................................................. 22
Adoption.................................................................................................................................... 22
Co-Parenting.............................................................................................................................. 27
Assisted Human Reproduction.................................................................................................. 30
Surrogacy................................................................................................................................... 32
Connecting Queer Families to Social Justice............................................................................ 35

Chapter 3: What Is Reproductive Justice?..................................................................................... 37

Origins of Reproductive Justice as a Movement....................................................................... 38
Eugenics and Scientific Racism................................................................................................. 40
Black, Indigenous, and Racialized Motherhood........................................................................ 41
Contracting and Outsourcing Motherhood: Gestational Surrogacy.......................................... 43
Reproductive Justice Movement Towards Governance............................................................ 46

Chapter 4: Queering Reproductive Justice..................................................................................... 50

Queer Theory............................................................................................................................. 50
Eugenics, Gender, and Sexuality............................................................................................... 51
(Homo) normativity and (Homo) nationalism........................................................................... 54
Stratified Reproduction within LGBTQ2S populations............................................................ 58
Stigma and Marginalization within LGBTQ2S populations..................................................... 62

Chapter 5: Canadian Public Policy and Reproductive Justice for Queer Families:
Where Do We Go From Here?......................................................................................................... 65
Broadening the Scope of Reproduction: From Citizenship to Justice....................................... 66
Paradigm shift towards Queer Families: The limits of Same-Sex Families.............................. 69
Queer Family Case Law Challenges.......................................................................................... 71
Family Legislative Reform........................................................................................................ 75
Activism and Advocacy Through Queer Family Services Organizations................................. 76

Conclusion.......................................................................................................................................... 80
Work Cited........................................................................................................................................ 83
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GLOSSARY OF TERMS

AHRA- Assisted Human Reproduction Act

CAS- Children’s Aid Societies

CDA- Critical Discourse Analysis

CFSA- The Child and Family Services Act

DSM- Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders

GID- Gender Identity Disorder

HIV/AIDS- Human Immunodeficiency Virus/ Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome

IVF- In-vitro fertilization

LGBTQ2S- refers to an umbrella term to all people with a diverse sexual orientation and/or

gender identity, who self- identifies as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, transsexual, queer,

questioning, or Two-Spirit.

MCYS- Ministry of Children and Youth Services

MRP- Major Research Paper

NYSHN- Native Youth Sexual Health Network

NACM- National Aboriginal Council of Midwives

OHIP- Ontario Health Insurance Plan

PTA- Parent-Teacher Association

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INTRODUCTION

Within LGBTQ2S1 communities, family planning is a very diverse process. Currently,

many options exist for queer populations in creating family including adopting, using egg/sperm

donors for insemination, acquiring surrogates, as well as co-parenting with multiple parents

beyond the structure of the nuclear family. For queer parents, the manner in which families are

created varies, yet within all ways of creating and forming families, it is crucial to address the

structural inequalities that exist within queer communities and to scrutinize how certain

populations within LGBTQ2S communities are privileged in the process of family planning over

other members.

From January to June 2014, I volunteered at the 519 Church Street Community Centre

Queer Parenting Program. My volunteer experience included the coordination and observation of

the 12-week queer family planning courses, Dykes Planning Tykes and Daddies and Papas 2B.

During my time volunteering in these courses, I assisted in distributing materials, aided in

facilitating discussion panels, observed participants dynamics and debriefed with the course

coordinators on issues regarding race, class, gender, and sexuality that arose during each session.

At the beginning of the course, many social inequalities within Toronto’s queer

community were apparent among the representation of participants in both courses. In both

cohorts that totalled approximately 75 participants, the majority of participants were White, with

few racialized people and no Indigenous people represented. In addition, all but one couple (who

was trans) identified as gay or lesbian. What were the causes for the lack of diversity in
1
LGBTQ2S refers to an umbrella term to all people with a diverse sexual orientation and/or gender identity, who
self- identifies as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, transsexual, queer, questioning or Two-Spirit. I will use both
terms, LGBTQ2S and queer, interchangeably throughout this paper. However, I will use the term gay, lesbian,
bisexual, trans people, or Two-Spirit to refer to specific identities and populations.
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representations of racial, gender, and sexuality identities among the participants?

Throughout the course, the coordinators discussed family planning methods including

adoption, surrogacy, assisted human reproduction as well as co-parenting arrangements as the

key pathways for family planning. As the course progressed, I wondered why were certain

methods more appealing than others for participants? What are the social configurations

associated with their choice?

As topics such as surrogacy and adoption were discussed, many issues were brought up

by participants, in relation to sex, class, and race were linked to female reproduction as well as

fears around birth defects and racial difference of children in the adoption system were brought

up by participants. In light of these conversations, what are the historical and social implications

of female reproduction? How is the legacy of racism and colonization related to family planning

and parenting?

Through my experiences volunteering at the 519 Church Street Community Centre, this

Major Research Paper (MRP) will explore these issues more in-depth and seeks to ask: what is

reproductive justice for queer people? What are the successes seen in the queer family planning

movement? What are the challenges within LGBTQ2S reproduction, family planning, and

parenting? How can these challenges be addressed?

This paper will argue that present economic, social, and cultural orders not only reinforce

reproductive stratification amongst queer people but also using more expansive social justice

approaches within the reproduction justice movement offers alternative ways of reframing non-
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normative2 queers’ reproductive decision-making and agency in family formation.

Methodology

A mixed methodology approach using both content analysis and critical discourse

analysis (CDA) will be incorporated into this MRP to explore the theme of linking reproductive

justice to queer family planning seen within LGBTQ2S communities. Content analysis will be

used as I have conducted an environmental scan of the available resources from the 519 Church

Street Community Centre’s Queer Parenting Program, the LGBTQ Parenting Network’s articles,

resources and materials, as well as Native Youth Sexual Health Network’s (NYSHN)

programming, resources, and documents. Looking at publicly available resources from these

three organizations in Toronto that address issues related to reproduction and family formation

will aid me to in providing comprehensive cases studies to my analysis. CDA will be used, as I

research current literature in queer family studies as well as articles that provides theories related

to race, sexuality, and gender due to the lack of diversity of the literature that exist within the

field of queer family studies. This analysis will discuss both the United States and Canadian

context, as the current literature in queer families studies is primarily focused in the United

States. Consequently, drawing on literature in the United States will be used to provide a more

extensive scope to this paper’s analysis of Canadian queer family formation.

As Van Dijk (1993) notes, CDA studies the “relations between discourse, power,

dominance, social inequality” within social relationships (p 249). What is more, Van Dijk (1993)

2
Non-normative queer identities are identities that have been excluded from the mainstream lesbian and gay
movement, which will discuss more in-depth in chapters 4 and 5. These identities include bisexuals, trans people,
Two-Spirit people as well as racialized and Indigenous queers.
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defines dominance as,

The exercise of social power by elites, institutions or groups, that results in social

inequality, including political, cultural, class, ethnic, racial and gender inequality. This

reproduction process may involve such different ‘modes’ of discourse – power relations

as the more or less direct or over support, enactment, representations, legitimation,

denial, mitigation or concealment of dominance among others. (p 250)

Through this understanding, both content analysis and CDA of the literature will enable me to

situate and problematize the notion of family planning and the manners in which knowledge,

practices, and institutions reproduce or resist against social inequalities and normative ideologies

of social organization. In using this methodology, this analysis aims to not only address

discourses that reinforce oppression for queer families but also construct discursive spaces for

conceptualizing queer kinship practices.

Theoretical Framework

For Dorothy Smith (1974), patriarchy is embedded in everyday life that is “based on and

built up within, the male social universe” (p. 7). In order to broaden current understandings of

knowledge, it is integral to situate women and other marginalized groups’ lived experiences

within dominant discourses from a standpoint feminist approach (Smith, 1974, 1987). As a result

of my lived experiences, the use of a standpoint feminist approach (Smith, 1987) will be used to

highlight my experiences as a queer woman of colour and a Queer Parenting Program volunteer

at 519 Church Street Community. Using my lived experiences to inform this analysis of queer

family planning, I have observed the lack of reflection of my own experiences within public
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queer spaces. From this basis, a literature review on queer families studies was conducted using

intersectionality, queer, and reproductive justice analyses to provide further understanding of the

complexities within LGBTQ2S reproduction, family planning, and parenting. From these

analytical frameworks, this paper aims to provide an educative and much needed exploration for

the reasons that produce these social disparities for prospective queer parents. Through this

examination, this MRP will not only surface these marginalized perspectives but also signal new

research and policy directions in addressing family diversity within queer populations.

Chapter Organization

This paper is organized into five chapters: Chapter 1 will focus on introducing the

concept of queer kinship and will provide a historical overview of lesbian and gay families in

both the United States and Canada. This will provide a context for the various family formation

pathways available to queer people. Chapter 2 will discuss various queer family planning

pathways including adoption, assisted human reproduction, egg donor, surrogacy, and sperm

donors’ status in co-parenting agreements. In reviewing the current literature on queer families

through an intersectionality analysis, there will be a discussion of the social stratification that

produces experiences of privilege and marginalization amongst queer people as they pursue

different family planning methods. Chapter 3 will conceptualize the reproductive justice

movement in order to provide a social justice lens to the current state of queer families planning.

Chapter 4 aims to broaden the reproductive justice framework with an in-depth queer analysis to

themes discussed in reproductive justice. Chapter 5 will use a reproductive justice lens to

address several policy domains impacting queer family planning.

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CHAPTER 1- QUEER FAMILY FORMATION: HISTORICAL OVERVIEW

How do our families challenge, and how do they recreate, the conventional model of the

heteronormative nuclear family and traditional notions of family, biology, blood, and

kinship? It is clear to me that we do both. We cannot parent outside of the cultural norms

and discourses that shape our lives; and at the same time the existence of queer families,

in all our diversity, cannot help but disrupt the heterosexual matrix. (Epstein, 2009, p. 22)

LGBTQ2S people ostensibly challenge traditional notions of which family and kinship models

are conceptualized and recognized through blood, marriage, and state laws. Moreover, “natural”

and “biology” discourses of family and kinship not only privilege heterosexual relations but also

sustain heteronormative logic that dictates rigid gender roles rooted in gender difference. In

doing so, homosexuality and queerness is “othered” and perceived as taboo (Rubin, 1992). This

chapter will introduce the concept of queer kinship and provide a historical overview of queer

family formation in both the United States and Canada from the post-war era to the present. The

historical overview will be focused on three distinct time periods: the post-war era (1945-1969),

the Gay Liberation Movement (1969-1990), and the lesbian and gay baby boom (1990-present).

For queer people, traditional practices of kinship are problematic, as they are

“heterosexually based ties” that are legitimized by the state through legislation (Hicks, 2011).

Marriage equality has existed in Canada since 2005 through the Marriage Act and more recently

in June 2015, the United States Supreme Court ruled 5-4 in Obergefell v Hodges to strike down

state bans on same-sex marriage (The Guardian, 2015). There are however, other legislations

that regulate family relations, especially in the realm of assisted human reproduction, which will

be discussed more thoroughly in Chapter 2. Assisted human reproduction continues to exclude

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queer populations along economic, social, and cultural axes. As a result, there has been

increasing scholarship that not only widens traditional forms and practices of kinship but also

theorizes queer understandings and practices of kinship.

Queering Kinship

Procreation and biological lineage are the underlining assumptions within heteronormative

discourses of kinship. In this understanding, lesbian and gay bodies are presumed and

constructed as non-procreative (Hicks, 2011; Warner, 1991). However, many scholars have

articulated various responses to such prescriptive and pervasive notions of kinship. Many

theorists have noted that queer people use cultural forms of kinship, which are articulated

through the discourse of “chosen family” (Hicks, 2011; Butler, 2004; Calhoun, 2000; Weston,

1997). For Calhoun (2000) both heterosexuals and homosexuals use biological forms and

cultural forms of kinship through blood ties and marriage, however, the displacement of lesbians

and gay men to the margins of civil society is situated in policy and legislation that effectively

deny equal access in the public sphere, as homosexuality is made invisible through the

dominance of heterosexuality in everyday life. Specifically, status-conduct3 and “outing”4 are

central to the marginalization of queer people. For instance, government legislation often

prohibits discrimination on the basis of race, sex, gender, and sexuality; nevertheless, men who

have sex with men in Canada are prohibited from donating sperm into the regulated sperm

3
Status-conduct is a dialectical discourse, which infers an individual’s status from their acts or conduct. For
example, “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy in the United States military assumes that gay individuals practice
homosexual acts, exclusively. This construction does not acknowledge the complexity of identity formation, which
is not directly correlated to individual acts.
4
Outing refers to the act or practice of disclosing a lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender person's sexual orientation
or gender identity.
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supply under the Assisted Human Reproduction Act (AHRA) (Cameron, 2008), which will be

discussed further in chapter 5. As well, lesbian couples must disclose their lesbian status in

hospitals due to assumed heterosexuality, to which in turn, lesbian couples have reported

hospital staff responses to be ignorant and discriminatory towards same-sex couples (Walks,

2004). As a result, for Calhoun (2000), same-sex marriage is the necessary solution to end the

subordination of lesbians and gay men as marriage not only facilitates formal equality rights that

heterosexual couples enjoy but also deconstructs the immoral and deviants stereotypes of

homosexuality.

In contrast, Butler (2004) argues that as lesbians and gay men seek state recognized forms

of kinship such as marriage, gender, sexual, and relational practices such as gender fluidity,

kink, and polyamoury, all kinship and relationship formations which are outside of “normative

dyadic homosexuality,” will continue to be considered illegitimate. Following Butler’s logic,

marriage is not the ultimate solution for queer people, as other legislation related to parenting

and family formation continues to marginalize and prohibit access to non-biological lesbian

mothers and gay men (Butler, 2004). This institutionalized discrimination, ultimately, sustains

the notion that not only is traditional kinship forms and practices ideal but they also remain

unchallenged due to the increase of normalizing discourses on homosexuality (Hicks, 2011).

Thus, heterosexuality is accepted as the superlative method to define family within Canadian

and American public discourse.

Due to the strong tendency to view all relationships within a heteronormative model, new

ways of theorizing kinship offer discursive spaces that recognize and legitimize the existence of

different forms of relationships that reflect people’s lives. These discursive spaces widen the
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boundaries that are limited by mainstream/traditional concepts of normative kinship ties. What is

more, new kinship theories reveal the shortfalls of the nuclear family’s emphasis on marriage

and biological ties, as “contemporary practices of assisted/new reproductive technologies, step

parents and other recombined families, surrogacy, open adoption, gay/lesbian parenting and so

on have all contributed to this breakdown of the nature/culture divide in kin theories” (Hicks,

2011, p. 33). For Weston (1997), “families of choice” offer new framing to queer practices of

kinship and decentre notions of kinship re-enforced by legal and social institutions, and place

importance on characteristics such as love and agency (Kelly, 2011). For instance, gay adoption

contests biology discourses of kinship due to the cultural kinship ties to their children. As a

result, the “families of choice” discourse of kinship widens cultural notions of not only family

formation but also challenges ideologies of lesbians and gay men’s inability to become parents.

Equally, this widening of the definition of kinship provides legitimacy to already existent social

practices within LGBTQ2S communities. For example, family friends and social networks may

be incorporated into alternatives to the nuclear family model.

Alternatively, Haraway (2004) argues that biological and cultural forms of kinship are

being replaced with an emphasis on genetics and the ability to reproduce biologically related

children. Since lesbian and gay couples continue to access assisted human reproduction via

fertility clinics and services, “heterosexuality is no longer a stable basis for reproduction”

(Hicks, 2011). Haraway’s lens can be extended with the advent of three parent co-parenting

models involving gay or lesbian couples with an additional person who supplies complimentary

genetic material such as an egg or sperm. As a result, there are multiple sites of contestation in

considering the legitimacy of the heteronormative paradigm of kinship and ideologies of family
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that has been propagated since the post-war era.

Family Secrets: Gay and Lesbian Families in the post-war era (1945-1969)

After World War II, both the United States and Canada enacted similar policies in restoring

a new social order after combatting against Communist and Fascist regimes in Europe. During

the 1950s the nuclear family prevailed as the hegemonic manner of forming family and

practicing kinship, as “the family arrangements we sometimes mistakenly think of as traditional

became standard for a majority of Americans [and Canadians], and a realistic goal for others,

only in the postwar era” (Coontz, 1992, p. 262). Within the United States context, this era was

marked with McCarthyism5, which proliferated homophobic ideology through associating

homosexuality with communism (Rivers, 2013). The Canadian government acted in similar

fashion, protecting its borders against the “homosexual menace”, in several public policy fronts

through the prohibition of homosexuality in the Immigration Act in 1953 (Warner, 2002). What

is more, homosexuality in both Canada and the United States was criminalized through the

Canadian Criminal Code and state sexual misconduct laws, respectively (Tremblay, 2015;

Rubin, 1992). This, according to Rubin (1992), produced “major shifts in the organization of

sexuality” (p. 145). Homosexuality became synonymous with “sex offender”, which facilitated

the development of the field of psychology in constructing homosexuality as “sexual

psychopathy” (Rubin, 1992; Warner, 2002). Likewise, gender roles were formed in juxtaposition

to cold war politics in which masculinity was defined men as breadwinners, while femininity

5
Joe McCarthy was a Republican United States Senator during the 1950s that led an anti-communist campaign as
the Chairman of the Committee on Government Operations of the Senate using investigation tactics to intimidate
and to instill fear of communism. Many of the people McCarthy targeted in his campaign against the threat of
communism were homosexuals.
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was constrained as women returned to domesticity as homemakers, having previously

participated in the workforce during War World II (Rivers, 2013). As a result, many lesbians and

gay men felt the pressure to suppress their sexuality, fit into these rigid gender roles, pursue

heterosexual relationships and reproduce within the nuclear family model.

Rivers (2013) includes a thorough discussion of lesbians and gay men during this era,

noting several trajectories in queer family formation. Within these parameters, women had few

economic opportunities (Rivers, 2013), due to masculinized labour shifts, as men returning from

war dominated the workforce. For many, marriage was the sole manner to be supported

economically, as marriage, “was all that was left for you, really, back then if you were straight…

Even if you weren’t straight you got married to shut people up” (Rivers, 2013, p. 18).

Consequently, these pressures often resulted in living double lives, as these same-sex desires

continued despite heterosexual marriage.

Many lesbians and gay men pursued clandestine relationships, to avoid homosexual purges

that were prevalent during the 1950s and 1960s (Rivers, 2013; Rubin, 1992). Rubin (1992)

points to the risk of being arrested for sex offences as well as being fired when “an

unconventional lifestyle becomes known” (p. 159). For instance, many gay men recount their

experiences during this period, as

James, a retired diplomat, said, “that being married with a child gave him cover as a gay

man working in the government in the early 1950s…He also describes his decision to get

married as one motivated by the knowledge that only married men were successful in his

field. He remembered his superior telling him that to get ahead, he needed to entertain,

and for that he needed a wife”. (Rivers, 2013, p. 18)

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What is more, for lesbians, domesticity and the suburban landscape were the locale for same-sex

affairs. This was the case for Barbara and Pearl, both Parent-Teacher Association (PTA)

presidents at their children’s school, which provided both women the opportunity to build a

relationship, as “the mutual attraction was completely unexpected, for neither of them had

previously known any lesbians” (Rivers, 2013, p. 19). Increasingly, the pressures to conform to

heteronormative and gendered ideals constrained many lesbians and gay men from leaving their

marriages. Doing so would provide ample ammunition for losing custody of children to the state,

ex-spouse or other family kin due to the deviance and stigma of homosexuality. For many

lesbian mothers and gay fathers, openly disclosing their identity or same-sex relationship

endangered their parental rights and access to their children (Arnup, 2000; Rayside, 2008;

Rivers, 2013). A prime example is illustrated in 1974 with Case v. Case, in which a

Saskatchewan judge ruled against a lesbian mother and awarded custody to the father, “for fear

of contact with people of ‘abnormal tastes and proclivities’ ” (Rayside, 2008, p. 169). These

experiences of lesbians and gay men in this era illustrate the severe isolation in coping with

same-sex desires within “heterosexual hegemony” (Kinsman, 1996) that policed homosexuality

and fostered a culture of sexual panic against the “homosexual menace”.

Gay and Lesbian Parents Activism and the Gay Liberation Movement (1969-1990)

Concurrent to lesbian and gay men living within nuclear heterosexual families, another

subculture of lesbians and gay men emerged during this time, as more lesbians and gay men

migrated to metropolitan cities. Enclaves of lesbian mothers raising their children grew in

numbers, which provided the foundation for burgeoning activism towards social change (Rivers,
 16

2013). Within lesbian working-class communities, butch-femme counterculture became more

prevalent in challenging heterosexual and gender role norms (Rivers, 2013) offering new

opportunities in navigating the pressures to conform to heterosexual family ideologies. Many

lesbian headed families became pregnant as a result of encounters with men, this was often

caused by what Rivers (2013) notes as the prevalence of lesbian butches and femmes using sex

work a means for economic independence. Consequently, these shifts ushered in the beginning

of many homophile and gay liberation groups in Canada including the Association for Social

Knowledge (ASK), University of Toronto Homophile Association, and Vancouver Gay

Liberation Front (Tremblay, 2015), Lesbian Organization of Toronto (LOOT) (Ross, 1998). In

the United States, organizations such as Daughters of Bilitis (DOB), ONE Institute, and the

Atheneum Society (Rivers, 2013) surfaced and pushed forward homosexual rights and

decriminalization on the political agenda.

The Stonewall Riots in New York City in June 1969 energized the movement for lesbian

and gay liberation in both the United States and Canada. Within the Canadian context, there was

a gradual shift towards decriminalizing homosexuality, when the federal government, led by

then Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau introduced amendments to the Criminal Code in 1967,

stating, “The state has no place in the bedrooms of the nation” (Warner, 2002, p. 44). However,

through Bill C-150, the Criminal Code reforms in 1969 successfully sought the

decriminalization of “buggery” and “gross indecency” (Tremblay, 2015). As more and more

lesbians and gay men began to openly disclose their sexuality, LGBTQ mobilization took

prominence over the course of the 1970s and 1980s.

Despite the efforts of lesbians and gay men in contesting the stigma of homosexuality
 17

during this period, resistance was met by state repression as the police launched a series of raids

and campaigns to recriminalize same-sex sexuality in Canadian metropolitan centres. Between

1975 and 1976, Montreal police raided several lesbian and gay businesses including Sauna

Aquarius and Sauna Neptune with the objective of cleaning-up the downtown core in

preparation for Olympics Games (Warner, 2002). Likewise, in Toronto, several bathhouses were

subjected to police raids, most notably in 1981, where the Toronto police raided four bathhouses

and attempted to legitimize its actions by linking the raids in connection to organized crime

activities such as prostitution and drug trafficking to these sites (Warner, 2002). Furthermore,

the Toronto police publicly released the names of individuals arrested in bathhouses, parks, and

public washrooms, which “created the impression the police were protecting the public –

particularly children – from the evils of homosexuality” (Warner, 2002, p. 104). As a result of

state backlash against homosexuality, this period amplified lesbian and gay parents organizing

and advocating for their parental rights and challenging deviant perceptions about

homosexuality.

During the 1970s, the increased lesbian and gay visibility was met with detrimental

outcomes for parents, as many lesbian mothers and gay fathers lost custody battles and their

visitation rights (Arnup & Boyd, 1995; Arnup, 2000; Rayside, 2008; Rivers, 2013). Lesbian and

gay parents faced significant challenges in maintaining both their homosexual identity and

parental rights stemming from the dialectic construction, which situated homosexuality and

parenthood as antithetical to biological reproduction and childrearing characterized in

heterosexual relationships. In Canada, high profile cases attempted to re-enforce

heteronormativity through preventing and limiting lesbian and gay parents’ access to their
 18

children. In Manitoba, in the case Bernhardt v Bernhardt, the judge ruled against giving custody

to the mother, citing her lesbianism as one of the factors for the ruling (Rayside, 2008). In

Ontario, in D. v D., a bisexual father was awarded custody on the grounds that “he was not

militant or active in gay organizations, and kept his sexual orientation hidden from all but close

friends” (Rayside, 2008, p. 169). In many of these cases, judges continue to reinforce

heteronormative parenthood privileges by using the construction of “the best interests of the

child”, as grounds to deny or limit lesbian and gay parents’ access to their children (Rayside,

2008; Rivers, 2013; Warner, 2002). Consequently, in these cases, lesbian mothers (Fumia, 1998)

and gay fathers became delegitimized from their parental identities and ushered further into the

margins by the loss of respectability.

The 1980s brought progressive shifts in the family court system, as the Appeal Court in

Ontario ruled that sexual orientation was not grounds for denying custody in Bezaire v. Bezaire

(Rayside, 2008). This trend came up with severe contestation, as rulings cited lifestyle choices as

a way to indirectly deny lesbian and gay parents’ access. For instance, in Templeton v.

Templeton, the British Columbia Court cited that homosexuality was not the reason for denying

access but “the child’s exposure to promiscuous lifestyle” (Rayside, 2008, p. 170). By the 1990s,

there were amendments made to Ontario’s Family Law that allowed a person other than the

parent to apply for custody and access. These amendments provided leverage for the New

Democratic Party Rae government to lobby for same-sex relationship recognition in Ontario in

1994 (Rayside, 2008). In the following year, Ontario’s Court recognized the parental rights of

non-biological parents of four lesbian couples (Rayside, 2008). However, in 1995, Rae’s short-

lived Ontario government was replaced by the Conservative Harris government, which brought
 19

to a standstill in the momentum towards further legislative reforms that would benefit lesbian

and gay parental rights within Ontario.

Lesbian and Gay Baby Boom (1990-present)

These social shifts during the 1990s offered room for new possibilities, as lesbians and gay

couples began not only fighting for their parental rights from previous heterosexual relationships

and encounters but also making conscious decisions to plan and form families through other

means such as donor insemination, in-vitro fertilization (IVF), surrogacy, adoption and co-

parenting agreements. The diversification of options in family formation for lesbians and gay

men renewed the movement for social change in challenging the “heterosexual hegemony” in

other realms, including legislation regarding family, marriage, assisted human reproduction,

adoption, and surrogacy.

Increasingly, queer family educational courses and services have been developed and made

available in metropolitan centres. For example, in 1997 Rachel Epstein and Kathie Duncan

launched “Dykes Planning Tykes”, as part of the Queer Exchange, a community-education

program supported by the Centre for Gay and Lesbian Studies (Epstein, 2009). Since its

inception, over 400 people have taken Dykes Planning Tykes training course, which led to the

development of other courses designed for other populations within the queer community

including Daddies & Papas 2B, Trans Fathers 2B, and Queer Prenatal courses (Epstein, 2009).

Additionally, in 2001, the LGBTQ Parenting Network, a program at the Sherbourne Health

Centre was formed, which was “the first program in Canada to receive funding to provide

resources, information, and support to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transsexual, and transgender
 20

parents, prospective parents, and their families” (Epstein, 2009, p. 18-19). The development of

these programs and resources demonstrates the need in creating space for queer parenting by

expanding the boarders of normative kinship ties. Through LGBTQ Parenting Network, these

courses are run in partnership with the 519 Church Street Community Centre, which also hosts

drop-in family services and programming for queer parents. As a volunteer at the 519 Church

Street Community Centre, I observed the urgent need to examine how these services are

targeting non-normative queers who are having families, as these populations were not

represented in the queer parenting and family planning courses.

Through the increase in queer people seeking new ways of forming family, many have

conceptualized “queer spawn” as the children of queer parents (Epstein, 2009). The term “queer

spawn” not only provides further counteractions against the heterosexual logic of family

formation but also illustrates the evolution that has taken place within LGBTQ2S communities

in creating space to broaden the contours of queer culture. These children have grown up within

queer communities and are seeking their place in these communities, particularly those who are

erotically heterosexual but are culturally queer (Epstein, 2009). Likewise, other intersections

such as race, sexual identity, gender identity, and class in queer families need to be examined to

understand the current dimensions of queer modernities6 stemming from the increasing presence

of family planning and formation within queer communities. As a result, this chapter offers the

foundational discussion from which to further explore themes of social disparities among queer

populations in planning family as well as seeking more inclusive approaches of understanding

6
Queer modernities is a concept discussed in new public policy discourses that situates the acceptance of
homosexuality as modern: “modernity is being defined as sexual freedom, and the particular sexual freedom of gay
people is understood to exemplify a culturally advanced position as opposed to one that would be deemed pre-
modern” (Butler, 2008, p. 3).
 21

queer reproduction and parental rights.

 22

CHAPTER 2: QUEER FAMILY PATHWAYS –

ADOPTION, CO-PARENTING, ASSISTED HUMAN REPRODUCTION,
AND SURROGACY

The fact that there we’re well into a “gayby boom” isn’t news…What is newsworthy is

that these families gestate and shift and expand and accommodate and grow – and

sometimes splinter apart – in ways that allow for, even insist upon, new ways of looking at

what it means to be related to, responsible for, involved with, in love with, and chosen by

the people around us. (Rose & Goldberg, 2009, p. 8-9)

As queer families become increasingly visible, it is important to examine the various pathways

that are sought in planning or forming family. Due to these shifts in queer modernities, it is

worth examining the current state of the literature on queer family studies to provide discussions

on gaps in representation and knowledge. This chapter will introduce a discussion of various

pathways that queer people use in planning their family including: adoption, assisted human

reproduction, surrogacy, and sperm donors and their status in co-parenting agreements. A review

of current literature from Canada and United States context, will illustrate the importance of

using an intersectional analysis in discussing processes of social stratification that produce

experiences of privilege and marginalization amongst queer people as they pursue different

family planning methods.

Adoption

Both public and private adoption systems are available in Canada and the United States, as

adoption is regulated by provincial/territorial and state jurisdictions, respectively (Ross, Epstein,

Goldfinger, & Yager, 2009; Farr & Patterson, 2013). However, both Canada and the United
 23

State have divergent regulations with regard to lesbian and gay adoptive families, as there are no

legal prohibitions on same-sex adoption in Canada (Rayside, 2008). In the United States,

however, there is uneven legislative terrain, as some states permit same-sex adoption, while

others have bans on same-sex adoption (Farr & Patterson, 2013). In examining the literature on

queer parents’ adoptive families, adoption is overwhelmingly represented within the context of

“same-sex” discourse with the focus on lesbian and gay couples with little mention of bisexual

and trans people’s experiences (Ross, Epstein, Goldfinger, & Yager, 2009; Gibson, 2014; Farr &

Patterson, 2013; Goldberg, 2012). Likewise, studies conducted on lesbian and gay adoptive

parents are predominantly based within the United States context, except for a few Canadian

studies that focus on Ontario (Moore & Stambolis-Ruhstorfer, 2013; Ross, Epstein, Goldfinger,

& Yager, 2009; Gibson, 2014). Thus, drawing on the Canadian literature that exists will

highlight experiences of lesbians and gay men navigating the adoption systems in the Canadian

context, while the United States literature will provide broader social patterns in relationship to

same-sex adoption.

In Ontario, adoption policies are regulated by the Ministry of Children and Youth Services

(MCYS) and have been available to lesbians and gay men since 2005 (Ross, Epstein,

Goldfinger, & Yager, 2009). In the public adoption system, adoption processes are delivered by

Children’s Aid Societies (CAS), which are non-profit organizations and some CAS are affiliated

with religious organizations. There is no cost for prospective parents in public adoption, while in

the private adoption system there is an agency/individual fee between $10,000 and $20,000

(Ross, Epstein, Goldfinger, & Yager, 2009). In most private adoption cases, the child is a

newborn, where the birth parent or parents selects the adoptive parents. Private agencies operate
 24

in both the domestic and international context, for some international agencies, same-sex

couples are prohibited from adopting, depending on the jurisdiction’s regulations (Ross, Epstein,

Goldfinger, & Yager, 2009). As a result, adoption operates within a two-tier system, which

provides couples with economic privilege to adopt coveted newborn babies by using private

agencies. Thus, lesbian and gay couples with financial resources are able to bypass the public

adoption process.

Alternatively, for lesbian and gay couples that seek to use the public adoption system, there

are many more negotiation processes involved. Many lesbian and gay couples have suggested

that there is a strong pressure to present themselves “similar or the same as heterosexual

applicants” in order to be considered as an ideal applicant (Ross, Epstein, Anderson, & Eady,

2009, p. 273). These pressures from agencies, social workers, and the home assessment

processes point to systematic barriers including homophobia and heterosexism that uphold the

traditional notion of the ideal family. However, there have been legislative and policy

amendments in The Child and Family Services Act (CFSA) that have increased access to

adoption processes for same-sex couples, and resulted in lesbian and gay adoptive parents

reporting better experiences in this system (Ross, Epstein, Anderson, & Eady, 2009). Yet there

still continues to be many reports of homophobic and heterosexist attitudes amongst adoption

workers during adoption processes (Ross, Epstein, Anderson, & Eady, 2009). For instance,

many same-sex couples “report having encountered” adoption workers expressing their

discomfort with same-sex marriage. Adoption workers discuss their order in the adoption

selection process and further indicate that heterosexual couples are chosen first, while lesbian

and gay couples “would not get a baby” but get “damaged goods” (Ross, Epstein, Anderson, &
 25

Eady, 2009, p. 283).

Similarly, Goldberg’s (2012) study on gay adoptive fathers in the United States, discusses

both positive and negative experiences for adoptive fathers. Specifically, the negative

experiences highlight practices of institutionalized discriminations in adoption systems that

privilege the heterosexual two-parent nuclear model as the ultimate model. For instance, in

addition to encountering discrimination from agencies and social workers, they experience

further discrimination during adoption classes through the materials and resources that

overwhelmingly centre on “fertility issues” and impacts of “not being able to have a child”

(Goldberg, 2012, p. 63-65). Despite some progressive trends reported by these studies, agencies

and adoption workers have not eliminated the heterosexual context used in placing children in

families.

On the other hand, in Gibson’s (2014) analysis of gay men adopting in Ontario, “tensions

between ‘tolerance’ and ‘endorsement’ of queerness appear at the crux of state practices

surrounding gay men’s adoption” (p. 407). Furthermore, in examining Raising Expectations:

Recommendations of the Expert Panel on Infertility and Adoption, Gibson (2014) delves deeper

into issues beyond the legal context of same-sex adoption, by focusing on the discourses of

respectability that bolster hierarchies of race, class, gender, and sexuality as well as considering

the impacts for queer family formation, nationalism, and citizenship. Hence, this analysis offers

an expansive scope for understanding queer family formation as well as impacts that the current

social order limits practices for kinship ties.

Despite Raising Expectations: Recommendations of the Expert Panel on Infertility and

Adoption promotion of diversity in relation to family formation, it concurrently defends and

 26

rationalizes systematic practices of exclusion through the established hierarchy of adoption

applicants or constructing gay parents as misperceiving or making assumptions of inequities

within the adoption system (Gibson, 2014). Moreover, diversity is used as a form of tolerance

and provides limited profiles for acceptable queer parents through a discourse of sameness as

heterosexual parents. For Gibson (2014) the report anchors adoption as a practice for nation

building, which provides the state as an instrument for validating parenthood. By constructing

adoption as a nationalist project, the Canadian state maintains saviour narratives, in which White

social workers take racialized and Indigenous children out of their homes and their communities

in “the Best Interest of the Child” (Gibson, 2014). In consequence, these narratives uphold

colonial discourses, as Aboriginal and racialized children continue to be overrepresented in the

Canadian child welfare system (Gibson, 2014). Racial inequalities are upheld as notions of

Aboriginal and racialized mothers continue to be regarded as poor, uneducated, and incompetent

in juxtaposition to the ideal parents who are White, educated and middle to upper class. Thus,

interlocking systems of oppression are reproduced, transposing onto a same-sex context whereby

normative lesbian and gay couples are integrated into the nationalist project as racialized

mothers and non-normative queers are left out, which will be discussed further in chapters 3 and

4.

Within the Ontario context, literature suggests some trends towards supportive experiences

for lesbian and gay adoptive parents. This data can be attributed to additional supports like the

519 Church Street Community Centre’s Queer Parenting Programming and the LGBTQ

Parenting Network engagement with the Adoption Council Ontario, as I observed while

volunteering. However, there are substantial gaps in knowing whether these trends can be
 27

applied in other Canadian jurisdictions. What is more, those who do not fit into commonly

constructed parameters of ‘normative queer’ identities, encounter additional challenges within

the Ontario adoption system by being considered “inappropriate” candidates as adoptive parents

(Ross, Epstein, Goldfinger, & Yager, 2009). Barriers including biphobia7, transphobia8, and

racial stereotypes are situated in the interactions between prospective parents and adoption

agencies as well as adoption workers. As lesbian and gay couples conform to the nuclear

heterosexual family model, they are granted the status of respectable citizens. As a result, non-

normative queers continue to be marginalized.

Co-Parenting

Co-parenting is a concept that has many different configurations because it can connote

two parents in a romantic or a non-romantic relationship agreeing to raise a child, or the term

can be more expansively to include more parties. In this section, there will be discussion of

various arrangements involving known sperm donors and second-parent adoption processes in

pursuing nuclear family formation. However, this section’s analysis will focus on co-parenting

arrangements that are sought and go beyond nuclear family models in illustrating expansive

ways to theorize kinships formation as well as some of the systematic challenges facing these

families.

Although, co-parenting is currently an understudied area within queer family studies, with

only a few formal studies that explore co-parenting arrangements (Dempsey, 2010; Dempsey,

7
Biphobia refers to the negative attitudes towards and/ or discrimination of people who are sexually and intimately
attracted to both men and women (Ross, Epstein, Goldfinger, & Yager, 2009).
8
Transphobia refers to negative attitudes towards and/or discrimination of trans people and the expression of a trans
identity (LGBTQ Parenting Network, 2014).
 28

2012). There are Canadian queer parents anthologies including And Baby Make More: Known

Donors, Queer Parents, and Our Unexpected Families and Who’s Your Daddy?: and Other

Writings on Queer Parenting that provide personal narratives that contribute to the discussion

within the family of choice discourse (Rose & Goldberg, 2009; Epstein, 2009). As a result, there

is little empirical knowledge about the people who pursue this particular method of family

planning.

Deborah Dempsey is one of the few scholars who has studied and theorized co-parenting

arrangements. Dempsey (2010) provides three approaches: “standard donor”, “social solidarity”,

and “co-parenting” to family formation between lesbian and gay men.

In exploring the “standard donor” approach, lesbian couples seek a known sperm donor

with minimal involvement, which enables the couple to pursue a nuclear household option

(Dempsey, 2010). However, in most Canadian jurisdictions with the exception of Quebec,

known sperm donors have parental status as sperm operates within the parameters of biological

parenthood (Kelly, 2011). In negotiating the parameters of the reproductive relationship, these

expectations can become adversarial, which can result in court battles for parental rights and

recognition, which will be discussed more comprehensively in chapter 5. However, in more

amicable instances, many of these donors are positioned as “Uncle” as well as providing an

avenue for openness in accessing the identity of the father later on when the child is older

(Dempsey, 2010; Epstein, 2009).

In the “social solidarity” approach, “there is anticipation of a greater degree of social

contact that stops short of a resident care and parenting” (Dempsey, 2010, p. 1151). Likewise,

these agreements are constructed so that the biological father, his partner, and family are
 29

acknowledged as family members (Dempsey, 2010). For instance, in And Baby Make More:

Known Donors, Queer Parents, and Our Unexpected Families, Bob Smith’s story as a sperm

donor to Chloë and Elvira in conceiving Madeline illustrates this type of agreement:

During several months of discussions we agreed they would be the parents and I would be

the funcle; the baby would know I was the biological father but I would be the baby’s

Bob… While we weren’t going to live together as a family, we were choosing to become

family. (Smith, 2009, p. 149)

Likewise, in this family configuration Bob and his partner are considered funcles or “fun

uncles”, while his mother is also considered a Grandma (Smith, 2009). Thus, the “social

solidarity” agreements not only appreciate the contribution of the donor but also invite his

kinship network to form family relations.

Yet on the other end of the spectrum, “co-parenting” approach, there are several

configurations beyond the nuclear family models including a lesbian couple and gay couple, a

gay couple and single woman sharing children as well as a single lesbian and a gay couple

sharing child-raising responsibilities. For example, Joe and Toby co-parent three children:

Caitlin, Archie, and Lachlan, with lesbian couple Laura and Alison, between both couples’ two

households, respectively (Dempsey, 2012). Joe and Toby both see themselves as parents but

designate themselves as the fathers of their respective biological child; Joe is the biological

father of Lachlan, while Toby is the biological father to Archie (Dempsey, 2012). Caitlin,

however, was conceived with anonymous donor sperm (Dempsey, 2012). The four of them

describe themselves as a collective – sharing child care responsibilities, decision making as well

as all the children’s financial expenses (Dempsey, 2012). Therefore, in this arrangement, four
 30

parents are collaboratively raising both biologically and non-biologically related children,

offering more expansive ways of conceptualizing kinship beyond the nuclear family model.

Notably, in this study it is unknown how the parents’ social location and disclosure of their

family arrangement impact their everyday lives.

Assisted Human Reproduction

Increasingly, much of the current literature regarding lesbian and gay family formation

focuses on lesbian couples using fertility clinics and services (Mamo, 2007, 2013; Luce, 2010;

Mamo & Alston-Stepnitz, 2015). For Mamo (2007) lesbian pathways to pregnancy are hybrid-

technological practices: “technologies used ranged from the simple (i.e.: donors masturbating

[and ejaculating] into a jar, women self-inseminating using turkey baster technology) to more

‘medical’ (i.e.: syringe technology), to advanced (i.e.: intrauterine insemination, in-vitro

fertilization [IVF])” (Mamo, 2007, p. 374). What is more, from the range of practices, lesbians

that were interviewed were “willing to use whatever biomedicine offers to meet their pregnancy

goals” (Mamo, 2007, p. 373). These various techniques and practices sought by lesbians provide

new cultural and social meanings to biomedical institutions and discourse around reproduction.

Likewise, for Luce (2010) Canadian fertility clinics and services opening their doors to

queer women, including lesbians and bisexuals, in the 1990s furthers the re-imagination of queer

parenthood and complicates the heteronormative discourse of these sites. Consequently, Luce’s

(2010) study positions this shift as the “lesbian baby boom”, as one participant, Chandra states,

we have participated in the lesbian baby boom because [of] almost everybody we know,

and in every circle of friends, there are at least two to six couples that are parents. It’s

massive, don’t you find that? In every one of our circles. Because we finally have a
 31

fertility clinic that [will inseminate lesbians]. It just takes money…. (p. 34)

Currently, fertility services in Canada costs up to $6,000- $10,000 per IVF cycle (The Expert

Panel on Infertility and Adoption, 2009). Despite these costs, the high prevalence of lesbians

using fertility services has enabled them to access sperms banks and other biomedical

technology in facilitating conception. Additionally, Luce (2010) problematizes the legal context

of known sperm donor status, as it can leave non-biological lesbian parents exempt from legal

recognition.

Alternatively, many lesbians have opted to use anonymous donors, which give non-

biological mothers access to parental rights (Luce, 2010). However, Luce (2010) also notes

another practice of using local or live donors, a common practice during the 1970s and 1980s

that aimed to neutralize the tension between using a known donor and anonymous sperm as well

as the discriminatory policies of fertility clinics that excluded lesbians. The practice of using

local donors relies on community networks in which an intermediary, commonly referred as

“sperm runner” (Nelson, 1996; Wilkes, 1985) or “bumblebee” (Weston, 1997) who “couriered

requests, sperm, and sometimes donor contracts, between the two parties and was responsible for

maintaining the anonymity of the donor and recipient” (Luce, 2010, p. 96). Overall, due to the

uncertain social and legal context that lesbian family formation must navigate with second

parent adoption and using known donors contracts, kinship shifts into new modes of

rationalities. Consequently, kinship becomes contractual, which can have both financial and

legal implications (Luce, 2010). In one instance, a lesbian couple and their donor spent over

$1,500 in legal fees before a donor contract was finalized because it involved hiring lawyers for

both parties (Luce, 2010).

 32

Although, in Canada, biological materials are prohibited from commercial sale under the

Assisted Human Reproduction Act (AHRA), there are associated financial costs through legal

fees. Moreover, within the United States and internationally, commercial sperm is readily

available across national borders, therefore, moving queer bodies from the gendered margins

into the center as they are positioned as consumers of fertility services and technologies (Mamo,

2013). Mamo (2013), more broadly, examines queer people including lesbians, bisexuals, and

trans people’s access to fertility clinics and biomedical technologies within a biomedical

marketplace. Furthermore, the inclusion of lesbian reproduction procedures within the

biomedical marketplace or “Fertility Inc.” (Kolata, 2002) has led to the privatization and

monetization9 of assisted reproduction that has contributed to further stratification, which

entrenches racial and class hierarchies (Mamo, 2013). Thus, Fertility Inc. operates within a

neoliberal10 context that re-enforces exclusion through assimilatory predications of reproducing

nuclear families for respectable queers, who are predominately privileged along “economic,

social, and cultural lines” (Mamo, 2013, p. 235).

Surrogacy

With the advent of assisted human reproduction technologies and services, surrogacy has

become a method predominately used by couples that are privileged within the current

economic, social, and cultural context to form families that are genetically related. According to

Bridges (2014), couples can choose between two kinds of surrogacy:

9
Monetization refers the process of converting a sector or economy from a system of bartering into one that is based
on the exchange of money.
10
In my analysis, neoliberalism refers to a political discourse that promotes the increasing privatization of
economic, social, and cultural life.
 33

first is traditional surrogacy, in which a surrogate is inseminated with donor sperm; the

child to who she give birth and whom she eventually surrenders for adoption is

genetically related to her. The second is gestational surrogacy, in which a fertilized ovum

is implanted into a surrogate; the child to whom she gives birth and whom she later

relinquishes to the intended parents is genetically unrelated to her. (p. 1130- 1131)

Increasingly, gay men, who are regarded as unprivileged in relation to their sexual orientation,

are using surrogacy as a family planning method (Bridges, 2014). Currently surrogacy, as a

family pathway for gay men, is severely understudied and thus yields a narrow selection of

studies to draw on in order to conceptualize the experiences of gay fathers using surrogacy

(Berkowitz, 2013; Berkowitz & Marsiglio, 2007; Bridges, 2014; Dillaway, 2008; Stacey, 2006).

Firstly, surrogacy is disproportionately used by White couples, as the profile of gay men

who use surrogacy shows a high incidence of other forms of privilege including class and White

privilege and in the majority of cases, which enables them to circumvent the adoption system

(Dillaway, 2008; Berkowitz, 2013). Although, in Canada, commercial surrogacy is illegal and

relies on altruistic surrogates, there are still associated costs including legal fees in contracting

surrogate arrangements, agency fees, medical, fertility, and IVF treatments costs as well as

surrogate related expenses while she is pregnant that can amount to over $ 75,000. In

comparison, commercial surrogacy, which is legal in some American states, most notably

California and internationally, most notably India and Thailand, can cost upwards of $150, 000

(Berkowitz, 2013). Both economic and other forms of privilege are illustrated, as many gay men

cite that surrogacy offers more control over the family formation in comparison to adoption

(Berkowitz, 2013) and co-parenting arrangements. The financial freedoms afforded by gay men
 34

contracting surrogates enable them to use their economic resources in genetically engineering

their child and bypass structural processes within the adoption system. What is more, surrogacy

is rationalized through biological kinship discourses, which emphasize genetic relatedness as the

central component of the idea family.

I wanted a child of my own. I wanted a biological child. Why shouldn’t I? It sounds

simple, but it took me many years to come to that conclusion. I thought of all the children

that were waiting for, and needed loving homes. I thought of all the special needs

children that were waiting for homes, and how wonderful it would be to raise them with

love and self-confidence… All I know was that I had always dreamed of having a child of

my very own. (Menichiello, 2006, p. 23-24)

Through class privilege, gay men provide new meaning that complicates the dominant

heterosexual discourse around the commoditization of reproduction, as there are not only limited

options in forming family for these men who are actively resisting the “anti-breeder”

construction placed on them.

Despite these barriers for gay men, it is still imperative to examine the gender and racial

implications of this family pathway, since gay men are increasingly participating in the broader

politics of surrogacy, which will be further elaborated in chapters 3 and 4. For Roberts (1997)

both gender and racial inequalities are emphasized, as surrogacy is not only the means by which

men’s ability to reproduce genetically is facilitated through a transactional exchange, but also a

way that further maintains racial dominance. Berkowitz & Marsiglio’s (2007) findings highlight

the considerable importance for White gay men to find a White egg donor. Likewise, Stacey

(2006) notes, couples using surrogacy “can literally purchase the means to eugenically reproduce
 35

White infants in their own idealized image, selecting desired traits in egg donors…with whom to

mate their own DNA” (p. 39). It is important to note that there are tensions in the discourses

between Western and transnational surrogacy. As Bridges (2014) notes, domestic surrogates

tend to be “fairly educated, financially stable, White women”; while “fertility tourism”

(Smerdon, 2008) or “reproductive outsourcing” has enabled couples to seek more cost effective

means in using women from the Global South, most notably from India, as surrogates (Fixmer-

Oraiz, 2013). This provides ample material for an intersectional analysis of how class, gender,

race, and sexuality continue to interact in reproducing inequalities, which will be discussed more

comprehensively in chapters 3 and 4. For Bridges (2014), as gay men increasingly access

surrogacy to form families, there needs to be more socially just solutions and work towards

destabilizing racial and gender hierarchies.

Connecting Queer Families to Social Justice

In reviewing the current literature, it shows trends that indicate there has been a shift in

focus around reproductive and genetic kinship, as lesbian and gay couples increasingly use

family formation pathways such as fertility clinics and services, and surrogacy. In using these

methods, there is a range of social, political, legal, and economic implications in each family

formation pathway. However, in examining these family planning methods, the majority of the

literature is centered on monogamous lesbian and gay couples from a predominantly White,

middle- and upper-class perspective. There are substantial gaps in the literature, where the

experiences of bisexual (Dobinson & Ross, 2013) and trans people are largely excluded (Pfeffer,

2012). What is more, queer people who are marginalized along other intersections such as race,
 36

class, and romantic identities such as polyamoury are erased from these dominant narratives of

queer family formation (Moore & Stambolis-Ruhstorfer, 2013). Many theorists have attributed

this to the lack of visibility of these hard to find populations within public queer spaces, which is

over-represented by normative lesbian and gay couples (Moore, 2011; Moore & Brainer, 2013).

This invisibility may point to the issue of internal marginalization within LGBTQ2S

communities (Lim-Hing, 2005; Moore & Stambolis-Ruhstorfer, 2013; Moore & Brainer, 2013).

Likewise, there is little known about non-normative family models other than personal narratives

and a handful of studies that expand beyond the nuclear family model. Accordingly, empirical

studies in these areas would broaden the knowledge of the diversity that exists within queer

family formation and further the analysis of this paper. The overall impact of existing literature

not only reinforces same-sex discourse but also illustrates assimilatory processes of certain queer

identities deemed respectable by mainstream society. In doing so, hierarchies continue to be

maintained around intersections of class, race, gender, and sexuality.

For many queer families on the margins, social justice movements are still significant in

offering opportunities for visibility and social change. The reproductive justice movement, for

example, offers women of colour more expansive ways of addressing reproductive issues that

intersect along economic, social, and cultural lines, which will discussed in chapter 3. Thus, can

the reproductive justice movement provide marginalized and non-normative queer people the

much-needed lens that will shift the dominant “same-sex” discourse around lesbian and gay

nuclear families?
 37

CHAPTER 3 – WHAT IS REPRODUCTIVE JUSTICE?

Poor and minority women are often encouraged through government policy to control

their fertility while White, middle-, upper- class women’s reproductive choices are

enhanced through the availability and use of expensive treatments. (Scala, 2014, p. 51)

Historically, the feminist movement has framed the issue of reproductive rights in relation to the

issue of abortion rights, which has been predominantly shaped around the experiences of White

middle class women (Luna, 2010) The “Freedom of Choice” and “Right to Choose” narratives

within the reproductive rights movement narrowly focused on the legal and formal rights to

women’s reproductive decision making (Luna, 2010). Within the United States context of the

pro-choice movement, the Roe v. Wade11 decision effectively narrowed reproductive activism

issues, reducing them to abortion rights, which “framed the right to abortion through the right to

privacy rather than through the lens of gender equality” (Briggs, et al., 2013, p. 102).

This chapter will discuss the development of the reproductive justice movement to

contextualize how the “Right to Choose” discourse provides a limited, exclusionary, and

ahistorical purview of women’s reproduction, particularly women who experience multiple sites

of oppression. Accordingly, there will be an intersectional analysis of race and gender in the

construction of motherhood alongside the discussion of colonization, nationalism, Eugenics, and

assisted human reproduction, which will provide alternative avenues for women in broadening

their agency around reproduction. Finally, this chapter will conclude with discussing how the

reproductive justice movement and governance offers the interconnectivity necessary in

addressing the interlocking dimensions of disenfranchisement for women, especially women of

11
Roe v Wade was a landmark Supreme Court case ruled in favour of the right to an abortion, which shifted debates
within US constitutional law as well as shaping national politics and public discourse.
 38

colour and Indigenous women.

Origins of Reproductive Justice as a Movement

Many scholars have noted that the discourse of choice privileges White middle- and

upper- class women (Roberts & Jesudason, 2013; Roberts, 1997; Chen, 2014; Briggs, et al.,

2013), through a universal formal rights based framework. Together with the advent of assisted

human reproduction technologies and fertility clinic services, the discourse of choice is once

again extended and reinforced through the commercialization of reproduction. This propels

reproductive stratification, which is “the power relations that empower or disempower certain

groups of people to nurture or reproduce” (Scala, 2014, p. 50). Various state instruments

including government policies and legislation, which will be discussed further in this chapter

and in chapter 5, have shaped the dimensions of reproduction along social-economic spectrums

as well as ability, sexual orientation, and gender identity.

Within the reproductive rights movement discourse, many women of colour have

criticized the movement as limited and exclusive (Luna, 2010) because it reflects of an agenda

centered on reserving access to abortion and fertility clinic services for a privileged group of

women. Additionally, women of colour have felt that the reproductive rights movement did not

represent their experiences (Luna, 2010). Overall, social justice issues related to reproduction are

not exhaustive, as Gaard argues that in the context of the United States,

communities of color within the US have disproportionate rates of poverty, lack of access

to health care, higher incidences of violence, and poorer health reproductive outcomes,

their definitions of reproductive justice focus on a broader spectrum of conditions

 39

necessary for reproductive health and sexual freedom, contextualized within a framework

of human rights and economic justice. (p. 110-111)

This is relevant in Canada since reproductive health disparities continue to exist among

marginalized groups including Indigenous, racialized, immigrant, and queer communities.

Hence, the foci of abortion rights and assisted human reproduction within the reproductive rights

movement pushes issues that intersect with other forms of oppression including classism,

racism, ableism, homophobia, and transphobia further to the margins and maintains a narrow

agenda and implementation of policies that benefit society’s White, middle-classed,

heteronormative, able-bodied elites. As an example, Chen (2014) illustrates that reproductive

issues intersect with many domains outside of abortion rights, as the majority of women

incarcerated in the United States are women of colour, and many of these women are detained

while being pregnant.

Historically, women of colour and Indigenous women’s reproduction have been

constructed as inferior, defective, immoral, irresponsible, infantile, and savage (Roberts, 1997;

Smith, 2010), in juxtaposition to the construction of White women’s reproduction. Due to the

focus on the issue of “Freedom of Choice” within the reproductive rights framework, many

women of colour began in the mid-to-late 1990s to organize around broader issues such as

environmental racism, criminalization of pregnant women, and state apprehension of children of

single mothers (Luna, 2010). As an alternative to the reproductive rights movement, what

reproductive justice offers is an expansive context for women’s reproductive experiences,

The right to have children, not have children, and to parent the children we have in safe

and healthy environments -- is based on the human right to make personal decisions
 40

about one’s life, and the obligation of government and society to ensure that the

conditions are suitable for implementing one’s decisions is important for women of

color (sic). (SisterSong, “What is RJ”)

What is more, intersectionality as an approach is embedded within the reproductive justice

movement (Roberts & Jesudason, 2013), as “it seeks to disrupt traditional, rational, linear

thought that prioritizes one category of social identity” (Wiebe & Konsmo, 2014, p. 334).

According to Crenshaw (1991), feminist and antiracist discourses failed to study the experience

of women of colour and marginalized people by providing both a gender and a race analysis.

The underpinnings of intersectionality assert that the process of treating women as one class

renders women not represented in such a class, for instance women of colour and lesbian and

gay people, invisible (Crenshaw, 1991). Women of colour are impacted by historical context

stemming from colonial and patriarchal processes, which are maintained by racial stereotypes

and racial tropes (Collins, 1990). Thus, identity politics not only conflates and flattens

differences among groups but also reproduces domination through gender, race (Crenshaw,

1991) and in extension ability, and sexual orientation.

Eugenics and Scientific Racism

Another form of gender and racial oppression affecting women of colour is the Eugenics

movement. Eugenics is a prime example of an imperialist project that further propelled scientific

racism, which was a powerful instrument in validating the hierarchical organization of racial

groups within systems of slavery and colonialism (Somerville, 1994). Moreover, racial

ideologies influenced and mirrored both cultural and scientific constructions around gender,
 41

since many scientists during the Eugenics movement were invested in exploring the racial and

sexual difference between White and Black women (Somerville, 1994). As a result, in these

scientific inquiries White women were constructed as ideal and pure, while Black women were

othered and hypersexualized, as “the racial difference of the African body…was located in its

literal excess, a specifically sexual excess that placed her body outside the boundaries of the

"normal" female” (Somerville, 1994, p. 252). Accordingly, Eugenics logic proceeded to draw

lines of racial dichotomies around ‘civility’ and ‘savage’ to control miscegenation and ‘racial

hygiene’ (Somerville, 1994).

Black, Indigenous, and Racialized Motherhood

Histories stemming from colonialism and slavery have problematized Black and

Indigenous reproduction. Within the United States, Black reproduction has been perceived as

the “Negro Problem” (Roberts, 1997), while in Canada, Indigenous reproduction has been

viewed as the “Indian Problem” (Dyck, 2013; Neu & Therrien, 2003). Efforts to control the

reproduction of women of colour and Indigenous women have been exerted through the

Eugenics movement and resulted in coerced sterilization and implanting experimental birth

control (Roberts, 1997; Dyck 2013). For instance, Roberts (1997) highlights the Eugenics

movement through national sterilization programs targeting Black women in the United States.

What is more, Black women have been over-policed as single mothers and are scrutinized in

their childrearing abilities, which result in state apprehension and criminalization (Roberts,

1997). In many instances, Black women are being criminalized and during the 1980s

experimental birth control such as Norplant were coercively imposed on Black mothers charged
 42

with the substance use of crack in exchange for reduced sentences (Roberts, 1997, p. 151).

Indigenous women in Canada were similarly targeted. The Truth Commission into

Genocide in Canada (2001) reported that not only were Indigenous people used as subjects for

drug test experiments, but also under the Sexual Sterilization Act of Alberta, 2800 Indigenous

women were sterilized between 1928 and 1972 “for no apparent reason other than the fact they

were aboriginal” (p. 44). Other policies regulating Aboriginal peoples including residential

schools were sites for sterilization and were monetarily incentivized by the Department of

Indian Affairs (The Truth Commission into Genocide in Canada, 2001). Forced abortions were a

common practice performed on pregnant Indigenous students as a result of the sexual violence

enacted by school staff, visiting clergy, and other members of the community (The Truth

Commission into Genocide in Canada, 2001). More broadly, residential schools’ prime

objectives were cultural genocide by removing children from their mothers and communities

and learning Anglo-Canadian culture (Neu & Therrien, 2003), as well as state apprehension of

children in placing them into non-Indigenous homes in order to “protect them” and serve “the

child’s best interest” (Aboriginal Justice Inquiry of Manitoba, 1999).

In addition to Indigenous women, women of colour including immigrants and newcomers

experience reproductive inequality when attempting to access maternal health care. Johnson’s

(2014) study illustrates a dialectical construction of birth as marker of privilege and

marginalization. There is an increasing trend for affluent Canadian White women to seek “non-

medicalized” maternal care such as midwifery and doula services, while many Aboriginal and

immigrant women pursue “medicalized” maternal care from Gynaecologists in hospitals, as

practice in mitigating marginalization as they reported having difficulties accessing available

 43

service or accessing culturally competent health care (Johnson, 2014). Examining the politics of

Eugenics and its broader context in the histories of slavery, colonization, and immigration

illustrates the policies that maintain domination over women of colour and Indigenous

reproduction. Therefore, through the United States and Canada’s nation building projects, White

women are positioned as the mothers of the nation by depriving racialized and Indigenous

women of motherhood.

Contracting and Outsourcing Motherhood: Gestational Surrogacy

Hitherto, Eugenics discourses around racial purity were propagated by Anglo-Canadian

Eugenics advocates like Nellie McClung12 and Dr. Caleb Saleeby13, which were aimed to

increase xenophobic sentiments among White settlers during the first half of the 20th century.

English Canadians were constructed as the future of the British Empire in order to problematize

the increased levels of immigration from other British colonies such as China and India

(Devereux, 2005). These discourses have continued to influence not only government policies

but have also informed cultural notions that persist to construct racialized bodies as “others”. As

a result, these ideologies around racial difference are tied to nation building with White women’s

reproduction situated at the centre. While, racialized and Indigenous women’s reproduction is

displaced, controlled, and constructed as unfit in contributing towards the advancement of

Canadian society. This legacy continues in several trajectories including the construction of

12
Nellie McClung was one of the Famous Five that led the first-wave feminist movement in Canada for universal
suffrage. The first-wave feminist and Eugenics movement were interconnected in constructing what constituted
“good” motherhood through positioning Anglo Saxon mothers as “mothers of the race” (Devereux, 2005).
13
Dr. Caleb Saleeby was an Obstetrician that was active in propelling the Eugenics Feminism movement by
positioning Anglo Saxon middle-to-upper class women’s reproduction as the advancement of Canadian society
(Devereux, 2005).
 44

motherhood among White and racialized women in both the Western and international contexts.

Presently, the growth in the commercialization of transnational gestational surrogacy,

which is contracting surrogates across national borders, highlights the structural inequalities and

continued control of women of colour and their reproduction within an international labour

market framework (Fixmer-Oraiz, 2013). Internationally, the transaction between Western

women and transnational gestational surrogates resembles the “western benevolence” through

the public discourse of “global sisterhood”, which attempts to situate the act as a mutual

beneficial transaction of “women helping women”, where western women are positioned as a

philanthropist lifting women from the Global South out of poverty (Fixmer-Oraiz, 2013, p. 144).

As a result, these processes continue to mask the system of reproduction stratification within a

wider international context.

Within Western borders, a project that seeks to bolster Canadian and American

nationalism is emphasized through gestational surrogacy narratives. Specifically, the act of

being surrogates by Westerner women are framed as altruistic and profiled as a White, married,

mother providing a selfless act, in aiding an infertile woman with the reward of motherhood

(Fixmer-Oraiz, 2013). For these infertile women, surrogates provide a way to access middle-,

upper-class heteronormative motherhood, which Fumia (1998) highlights, “The vitality of

romanticized heteronormative motherhood regulates women in ways that make us feel like

"good" or "bad" mothers” (p. 43). Thus, through these discourses, White motherhood continues

to be regarded as paramount, even to the extent of using racialized bodies to eugenically

engineer and reproduce White children.

However, for Lozanski (2015) there are moral and ethical implications for transnational
 45

gestational surrogacy, as the Canadian citizenship policy prohibiting international commercial

surrogacy demonstrates its divergent approach to its legislation and policy on domestic

surrogacy. AHRA explicitly provides a moral and ethical response to commercial surrogacy, by

criminalizing commercial surrogacy as a preventative measure against the commodification and

exploitation of women (Lozanski, 2015). For this reason, only altruistic surrogacy is permitted

under AHRA. Despite the Canadian government’s strong stance against commercial surrogacy

within its border, state policy regarding transnational surrogacy dictates otherwise, as, “the

Canadian state’s policy on transnational commercial surrogacy instead assumes the

‘bioavailability’ of women who serve as surrogates outside of Canada’s borders” (Lozanski,

2015, p. 385). For couples contracting surrogates, they must simply provide proof of payment of

hospital bill, contract with surrogate, and contract with the fertility clinic to arrange Canadian

citizenship with the Department of Citizenship and Immigration (Lozanski, 2015). As a result of

these inconsistent and incoherent policies from Western countries, including Canada, the growth

of gestational surrogacy in host countries in the Global South continues to appear in new

geographies, which in turn exacerbates the structural inequalities related to women’s

reproduction.

However, from a reproductive justice lens, the focus shifts away from couples seeking

surrogacy towards the perspective of gestational surrogate mothers, particularly surrogates from

the Global South. By,

centering the lives and the experiences of surrogate mothers, rhetorics of reproductive

justice would more fully account for the structural constraints within reproductive

decision making, articulating these struggles to broader movements for social justice to
 46

promote the health and dignity of women and their communities. (Fixmer-Oraiz, 2013, p.

149)

Therefore, reproductive justice more broadly seeks to make linkages to other forms of

oppression, such as transnational racism/globalization of racist practices and address

interconnected social justice issues around women of colour and Indigenous reproductive

decision-making.

Reproductive Justice Movement Towards Governance

While SisterSong, a collective grassroots organizations in the United States, has provided

a platform for the reproductive justice movement for racialized communities (Luna, 2010), the

Native Youth Sexual Health Network (NYSHN) is an organization that works both in the United

States and Canada on issues related to Indigenous youth sexual and reproductive health, rights,

and justice. Jessica Danforth, the Executive Director of NYSHN wrote an article addressing

reproductive justice:

Today our work at the Native Youth Sexual Health Network (NYSHN) INCLUDES (sic)

everything from comprehensive, culturally safe sexuality education to reproductive

justice to environmental justice to violence prevention and awareness, sex work outreach,

prison in-reach, and so much more. We are honored (sic) to work with an incredible

network of youth, elders, and communities all across the United States and Canada who

tell us exactly why we shouldn’t back down from working on all these issues together.

(Danforth, n/d, p. 1)
 47

The document from which this quote is taken expresses the notion of reproductive justice for

many Indigenous community organizers both in Canada and the United States and demonstrates

the collaborative efforts to incorporate the framework that resonates with the experiences of

Indigenous people and reproduction (Danforth, n/d). NYSHN uses a decolonization14 framework

(Driskill, 2010; Morgensen, 2010; Smith, 2010) to bolster interconnectivity and Indigenous

governance across national boundaries (Danforth, n/d). These forms of community organizing

and actions are essential as “the bodies of Indigenous people have been and continue to be a

focal point for the persistent processes of Canadian colonization” (Wiebe & Konsmo, 2014, p.

336). For example, Aamjiwnaang First Nation Reserve15 is located in Canada’s “Chemical

Valley”, which has resulted in a substantially decreased birth rate of male babies, stemming

from the high levels of chemical exposure in the community (Wiebe & Konsmo, 2014, p. 338).

This trend of environmental violence on Indigenous peoples’ reproduction and acts of resistance

are demonstrated, such as NYSHN works on several initiatives and partnerships including

statements against Line 9 Pipeline, supporting the Annual Tar Sands Healing Walk, launching a

community-led database for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women in partnership with

Families of Sister in Spirit, collaborating with Women’s Earth Alliance on Environmental

Violence against Indigenous peoples as well as Declarations on Health, Life, and Defense of

Future Generations. These actions discuss the impacts of pollution of Indigenous communities’

traditional lands and the negative impacts on reproductive health (Native Youth Sexual Health

Network, n/d).
14
Decolonization is the “ongoing, radical resistance against colonialism that includes struggles for land redress,
self-determination, healing historical trauma, cultural continuance, and reconciliation” (Driskill, 2010, p 69).
15
Aamjiwnaang First Nation Reserve is located 7 km south of Sarnia, Ontario near the Canada-US border. The
community’s population is approximately 850 and their land is surrounded by one of Canada’s largest concentration
(40% percent) of polymer and petrochemical manufacturing centres (Wiebe & Konsmo, 2014, p. 338).
 48

Another collaborative project is the partnership between NYSHN and the National

Aboriginal Council of Midwives (NACM) in Canada called the “Heart Your Parts” Campaign

that focuses on sex education justice. Their press release states,

This partnership will provide us with the necessary support to work together at the

intersections of sexual and reproductive health, rights, and justice. These intersections

include bridging the gap between culturally safe sex education and midwifery care

through a mutually supportive partnership that will increase education, share skills, as

well the opportunity for NACM members and NYSHN staff to work collaboratively to

deliver workshops and information in our communities. We will also be working to

improve access to midwifery care amongst younger parents and other members in our

networks - including people who are incarcerated, within the criminal justice or child

welfare system, HIV positive, Two-Spirit, Trans, and Gender non-conforming families.

(National Aboriginal Council of Midwives, 2014)

NYSHN and NACM partnership work dovetail because NACM also advocates the practice of

Aboriginal Midwifery (National Aboriginal Council of Midwives, 2014), the practice of which

varies from province to province (Canadian Midwifery Regulators Consortium, 2013). While

Ontario, Nunavut, British Columbia, and Quebec have legislation that stipulate exemptions for

practicing Aboriginal midwives (National Aboriginal Council of Midwives, 2012), the rest of

the other provinces and territories do not have clauses that recognize the practice (Canadian

Midwifery Regulators Consortium, 2013). As a result, NACM has developed a toolkit to

provide Aboriginal communities with material for learning about improved maternal health and

midwifery care with an objective to develop workshops and disseminate information about
 49

access specific to Indigenous communities across Canada (National Aboriginal Council of

Midwives, 2014). Thus NYSHN, in partnership with other Indigenous groups, works to

dismantle a legacy of colonization within a framework of social activism aimed to decolonize

practices that deny Indigenous women reproductive rights and access to services. Under this

lens of decolonization, their advocacy includes various collaborative projects across the United

States and Canada and incorporates reproductive justice into their values as an organization.

Increasingly, reproductive justice as a movement is seeking more concrete ways of

organizing collectively not only within marginalized communities but also across borders,

transforming into new forms of governance. As a result, the issue of reproductive rights for

women of colour and Indigenous women is mistakenly identified as a pro-choice framework. A

broader lens is necessary to capture human rights and social justice approaches, as this chapter’s

discussion detailed, since the expansive approach of reproductive justice surfaces the important

interconnections between oppression and social inequalities that stem from racism, colonization,

sexism, and homophobia. Consequently, reproductive justice as a movement can incorporate

other marginalized bodies including queer people, as they continue to be constrained in their

reproductive decision-making.
 50

CHAPTER 4 – QUEERING REPRODUCTIVE JUSTICE

The preference for ‘queer’ represents, among other things, an aggressive impulse of

generalization; it rejects a minoritizing logic of toleration or simple political interest-

representation in favor (sic) of a more thorough resistance to regimes of the normal.

(Warner, 1991, p. 16)

In examining reproductive justice’s comprehensive approach of linking social justice,

intersectionality, and reproduction, Chapter 4 will extend reproductive justice’s framework even

further by using queer theory discourse to explicitly include queer people’s experiences in

reproduction, family planning, and parenting to reflect the need to “queer” the reproductive

justice lens. This chapter will broaden the discussion of reproductive justice by examining the

queer dimensions in the themes discussed in the previous chapter including Eugenics,

nationalism, assisted human reproduction, reproductive stratification and dimensions of genders,

sexuality, and race.

Queer Theory

The development of queer theory has been bolstered to address the hegemony of

heterosexuality embedded in modern life (Warner, 1991), especially in notions of reproduction

and family. For Warner (1991), queerness is another frame within identity politics that works to

re-conceptualize citizenship and relies on visibility as a form of resistance. In challenging

notions of reproduction and the conceptualization of family, queer people face discrimination

and multiple barriers; for instance, lesbian and gay couples are discriminated against at fertility

clinics (Roberts, 1997; Walks, 2004; Walks, 2014; LGBTQ Parenting Network, 2012; Mamo,
 51

2013). Similarly, lesbian mothers and gay fathers have faced added scrutiny in the adoption

process in navigating heterosexism and homophobic attitudes of adoption workers (Moore,

2011; Ross, Epstein, Anderson, & Eady, 2009) as well as the added burden of validating their

family structure through second parent adoption (Kelly, Transforming Law’s Family: The Legal

Recognition of Planned Lesbian Motherhood, 2011). In regards to trans identified people, many

trans people have been required by state legal codes or coerced by practitioners to accept

sterilization in order to proceed with sex reassignment surgery16 procedures (Nixon, 2013). As

well, trans people seeking sex reassignment procedures navigate a transphobic social context, as

many are categorically denied access to their children by their former partner or rejected by their

adult children once they begin their gender transition (LGBTQ Parenting Network, 2014, 2014).

Thus, it is imperative that references to LGBTQ2S experiences stemming from homophobia and

transphobia are made when discussing reproductive justice. In using the reproductive justice

framework, this analysis will illustrate how queer communities that are marginalized through

multiple identities and social locations continue to navigate a system of stratified reproduction.

Eugenics, Gender, and Sexuality

Historical processes have positioned queer people’s sexualities as inferior, defective,

immoral, irresponsible, infantile, and savage (Ferguson, 2005; Puar, 2006; Moore, 2011;

16
There are an assortment of treatment and surgical procedures that transgender and transsexuals pursue in order to
“align their secondary sex characteristics with their gender identity” (Nixon, 2013, p. 75). “For trans women
(assigned "male" at birth), some treatments may include: feminizing hormone therapy (estrogen); breast
enhancement; tracheal shave ("Adam's Apple" reduction); penectomy (removal of penis); orchiectomy (removal of
the testicles); and vaginoplasty (creation of a vagina)." For trans men (assigned "female" at birth), some treatments
may include: masculinizing hormone therapy (testosterone); bilateral mastectomy and reconstruction ("top
surgery"); hysterectomy (removal of uterus and other internal pelvic organs); and phalloplasty (creation of a penis).”
(Nixon, 2013, p. 74-76)
 52

Warner, 1991). What is more, the institution of family has been structured around the

heterosexual model of reproduction (Warner, 1991). Lesbians and gay men are constructed as

“anti-breeders” that disrupt the sexual logic of reproduction (Warner, 1991). Similar to the

construction of race and gender within the Eugenics movement, discussed in the last chapter,

homosexuality has been treated as a perverse biological and psychological characteristic

throughout the 19th and 20th century. Stemming from the legacy of Eugenics, homosexuality and

gender non-conformity have been relegated to the field of scientific study, especially within the

fields of psychology and psychiatry. Ordover (2003) highlights that the development of causal

theories linking to sexuality has ushered treatment paradigms, which have pathologized queer

people and sought to treat sexual deviance from heterosexuality. For instance, many medical

studies, which have since been regarded as out-dated, were conducted to seek out biological

differences between “homosexual psychopaths”, “psychosexual hermaphrodites” (bisexuals),

and heterosexual bodies (Ordover, 2003). Likewise, these nomenclatures sought to stigmatize

sexualities that deviate from heterosexuality, as homosexuals and bisexuals were thought to be

“primitive races” that were incomplete from an evolutionary standpoint (Ordover, 2003, p. 96).

Other physicians linked sexuality to genetics and sought to find and treat the gay “gene”

(Ordover, 2003).

Within the field of psychiatry, homosexuality has been linked to insanity and mental

illness, as homosexuality and non-conforming gender identities has been listed as a psychiatric

diagnosis in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) (Toscano &

Maynard, 2014). These diagnoses are founded on Eugenics ideologies, which enabled a range of

physiological treatments directed to queer people including association therapy through

 53

hypnotism, aversion therapy via electric shock therapy, hormone manipulation to treat

homosexual tendencies as well as surgical manipulation of queer bodies (Ordover, 2003). Within

the North American context, women, in general, were sterilized at higher rates than men –

however, male sexual sterilization emphasized the concerns of sexual deviance including

homosexuality (Dyck, 2013). For example, under the Sexual Sterilization Act of Alberta (1929),

1041 men were sterilization in comparison to 1410 women (not including Aboriginal women, as

Indigenous people were not considered part of the general population stemming from colonial

processes) (Dyck, 2013). In examining sterilization and gender, although the manifestations are

disparate, these procedures continue to preserve the policing of distinct gender roles between

femininity and masculinity within a heterosexual social context.

Although, homosexuality was been removed from the DSM in 1973, gender non-

conformity is still designated and listed as gender dysphoria in the current edition, DSM V

(Toscano & Maynard, 2014). Many scholars discuss that the current political landscape has

made it difficult to continue a practice whereby homosexuality is overtly pathologized (Toscano

& Maynard, 2014). For this reason, listing Gender Identity Disorder (GID) (now renamed

Gender Dysphoria) continues the pathology of gender non-conformity, as “the great majority of

children treated for GID grow up to be lesbian, gay, or bisexual” (Minter, 1999, p. 11). As result

of a range of Eugenics-inspired practices – based on state intervention on queer bodies – there

are still attempts to re-enforce heterosexuality not only as natural and superior, but also as

biologically imperative. By doing so, the heteronormative notion of the family is maintained

through normative understandings of reproduction.

 54

(Homo) normativity and (Homo) nationalism

Since the Gay Liberation Movement in the 1970s, queer politics have made parallels

between homophobia, racism, and sexism, as Rubin (1992) situates the criminalization of

deviant sexual behaviours including homosexual practices akin to “legalized racism” (p. 159).

For queer theorists, analyzing marginalization based on sexual orientation and connecting these

lived experiences to other forms of oppression provides discursive discourse to challenge

heteronormativity, as an overarching system of power. However, with the rise of neoliberalism17

there have been assimilatory shifts in lesbian and gay culture that reinforce structural inequality

(Duggan, 2002; Richardson, 2005; Puar, 2006). What is more, Duggan (2002) argues that a new

sexual politics of homonormativity has formed within mainstream lesbian and gay movements:

New Homonormativity- it is a politics that does not contest dominant

heteronormative assumptions and institutions but upholds and sustains them while

promising the possibility of a demobilized gay constituency and a private, depoliticized

gay culture anchored in domesticity and consumption. (Duggan, 2002, p. 179)

Presently, the mainstream gay and lesbian movement in Canada and the United States not only

seeks to uphold the state through the emphasis on issues of same-sex marriage and gay military

inclusion (Duggan, 2002) but also perpetuates already existing forms of social and economic

privilege (Ferguson, 2006), as it propagates a discourse of “sameness” with heteronormativity

(Richardson, 2005).

As discussed previously, oppression interlocks within a “matrix of domination” (Collins,

1990), which has been established through the process of naturalization, by which citizenship

17
See footnote 10.
 55

and belonging is acknowledged by the state. For Carbado (2013), citizenship is embedded

through exclusion, as Whiteness, heterosexuality, and masculinity are naturalized as universal

within economic, social, and cultural institutions. In doing so, the construction of mainstream,

modern gay male identity is not only through homonormative discourse but also a “straight

acting” masculine looking male (Carbado, 2013). For instance, in juxtaposing Black gay and

White gay identities in popular culture, he compares how Black men are pathologized as being

on the “down low” in denying or refusing to identify as gay, while White men are victimized

within the construction of being “in the closet” (Carbado, 2013). Black men’s sexualities are too

hyper-masculine to be seen as gay but also the effeminate Black gay man is considered too

inferior to be the mainstream construction of being male (Carbado, 2013). Therefore, White

middle class gay identity and by extension lesbian identity, can be seen as a kind of ethnic

White, which is assimilated into White privilege (Carbado, 2013). Through these assimilatory

processes Black men and by extension racialized and Indigenous lesbian and gay bodies are

excluded from notions of homonormativity. Thus, homonormativity provides a conceptual

foundation for further entrenchment of certain lesbian and gay bodies within the state’s

construction of citizenship.

Similarly, Puar (2006) articulates the concept of “Homonationalism” which relies on

xenophobia, consumption, and multicultural liberalism to reformulate homosexual nationalism.

For instance, after September 11, 2001, many queer people of colour groups in American urban

areas worked more in collaboration with “non-queer” mainstream racial and immigrant

advocacy groups rather than with mainstream gay and lesbian organizations (Puar, 2006).

Consequently, within Homonormative logic, there have been more conservative and
 56

assimilationist shifts towards the state and reframing certain groups of gay men and lesbians as

citizens, which promotes cisgender (non-trans) privilege through the absorption of normative

homosexuals. As a result, non-normative queers including bisexuals, trans people, racialized and

Indigenous queers are further repressed and marginalized by the state.

Furthermore, Morgensen (2010) extends Puar’s concept of “Homonationalism” in

examining queer modernities formed through the settlers’ dominance over Indigenous peoples

and their traditional land through “Settler Homonationalism”. Similarly, Smith (2010)

challenges queer theory’s normalizing logic, as Native peoples and people of colour are still

rendered as objects. Furthermore, Smith (2010) critiques the law of origin, which justifies social

power structures such as racism, colonization, and capitalism that are naturalized into social

consciousness by exposing its fabrication within these historical processes as self-perpetuating.

For instance, Native people are constructed as the “other” and fail to be encompassed within the

conception of the universal subject (Smith, 2010). What is more, queer Native and racial bodies

are trapped as primitive and are pathologized in order to advance modern queer subjects (Smith,

2010):

Queer theory, when it privileges difference over sameness absolutely, colludes with

institutionalized racism in vanishing, hence retrenching, White privilege. It serves as the

magician’s assistant to Whiteness’s disappearing act. (Perez 2005, p187)

Indigenous people are infantilized and rendered incapable of civility, which enables settler

citizenship through state paternalism (Smith, 2010). Equally, racial minorities are assimilated

into the colonial state through diaspora discourse, as the settler state and colonization of Native

peoples remains unchallenged (Smith, 2010; Morgensen, 2010). Consequently, queer Indigenous
 57

and racialized people are subjected to the narrative of leaving their community and assimilating

into the state in order to formulate a modern identity, thus becoming self-determining subjects

(Smith, 2010). Smith (2010) not only challenges the presumption of the settler colonial state

within queer theory but also argues for decolonization of settler colonialism that sustains the

continued violence and genocide of Native people through the institutional structures of the

colonial state. Thus, Native identity and community must re-conceptualize Indigenous forms of

governance that are non-heteronormative as well as nationalism that is not state bound (Smith,

2010), which is practiced through the work of NYSHN explained in the previous chapter.

Similarly, Driskill (2010) offers a Native Two-Spirit critique that both challenges White

dominance of queer theory as well as queer people of colour critiques that erases Indigenous

peoples experiences and reasserts the settler state. Purposely, Driskill (2010) provides a

compelling exploration in expanding queer people of colour’s analysis in examining colonialism

within the United States and Canadian context. In Canada, Depelteau and Giroux (2015) note the

urbanization of lesbian and gay Aboriginal peoples since the 1950s stemming from colonial

processes and gender policing under the Indian Act. In the 1990s Two-Spirit mobilization

emerged more prominently, especially with regards to advocacy against HIV/AIDS, as groups

like Healing Our Spirit, the Canadian Aboriginal AIDS Network, and the Ontario Aboriginal

HIV/AIDS Strategy formed in reaction to the HIV/AIDS epidemic in Canada (Depelteau &

Giroux, 2015). Many of these groups modeled traditional concepts of health and healing, as

Two-Spirit people have been traditionally situated as caregivers and teachers within their

communities (Depelteau & Giroux, 2015). Thus, the construction of homonationalism continues

to exclude Indigenous peoples, as Tremblay observes, “LGBTQ rights have been racialized in
 58

ways that have marginalized Aboriginal and non-Western perspectives” (Tremblay, 2015, p. 49).

Notably, discourses in relation to queer Indigenous family formation are absent in the current

literature, particularly when Aboriginal children are overrepresented in the Canadian child

welfare system.

Stratified Reproduction within LGBTQ2S populations

Since homonormativity reiterates heteronormative exclusionary tendencies, economic,

social, and cultural inequalities still persist amongst queer people’s reproduction, as there are

queer dimensions to both domestic and transnational surrogacy, sexual sterilization, and access

to assisted human reproduction. In revisiting Fixmer-Oraiz’s (2013) analysis of domestic and

transnational surrogacy, the prevalence of gay men using surrogacy both in the North American

and international context not only disrupts the public discourse of “global sisterhood” but also

provides illumination to the erasure of male participation in the heteronormative context and

conceptualization of family roles. Furthermore, this phenomenon requires a more explicit

discourse on the role of male privilege in relation to reproductive labour. For instance, as a

volunteer at the 519 Church Street Community Centre’s Fathers and Papas 2B course, I observed

parallels between heteronormative Western and homonormative Western discourses through use

of ‘Western benevolence’ as well as the Altruistic Western woman constructions. During a

session of 30 participants, there was a discussion panel of men who sought surrogacy as a family

planning pathway. As the panel proceeded, gay fathers reiterated the same discourse of Western

Philanthropy and the Altruistic Westerner. These men used narratives of altruistic Western

White women who helped them have children as well as the mutually beneficial transaction as
 59

men are positioned as philanthropist lifting women from the Global South out of poverty. The

previously masked misogyny and exploitation of female reproduction became more evident in

participants’ reactions to the panel discussion. Many participants voiced their concerns of “their

rights” in this transaction through inquiries of having entitlements such as the right to have the

surrogate to abort in instances of disability or the ability to monitor and police the surrogate’s

diet, behaviours, and personal choices during the pregnancy. These inquiries illustrate the

gendered dimensions that have been downgraded or eliminated within the heteronormative

context that focuses on the women as the sole actors in acquiring surrogates. Alternatively, the

homonormative framework, in which both men are contracting surrogacy, enables a more

comprehensive analysis of the economic, social and gendered dynamics of surrogate

arrangements.

Mamo & Alston-Stepnitz (2015) discuss queer reproduction and its impact on

intensifying stratified reproduction, as it expands access to similar biomedical fertility services

already available to heterosexual people. In doing so, these processes continue to uphold

reproduction, as a commercialized marketplace that provides, “structural inequalities marked by

interlocking systems of power, privilege, and vulnerability” (Mamo & Alston-Stepnitz, 2015, p.

521). Within the neoliberal approach, reproduction, fertility clinics and services become a

biomedical marketplace that privatizes genetic family formation. As queer families increasingly

disrupt heterosexual normativity in the conceptualization of family within fertility clinics

(Mamo, 2013), this expansion, however, provides another example of homonormativity, as the

current economic and social order remains uncontested. Many lesbian, gay and trans people

access the services, “due to their Whiteness, money, insurance status, or otherwise” (Mamo &
 60

Alston-Stepnitz, 2015, p. 530). For this reason, queer people’s rights intersect with the broader

reproductive justice movement, as other social and economic locations beyond LGBTQ2S

identities continue to produce disparate reproductive outcomes in queer family planning.

Likewise, Nixon (2013) and Walks (2014) provide discussions that assert a reproductive

justice lens in queer family planning, as both address reproductive realities of trans and

genderqueer18 bodies. Walks (2014) challenges the universality of femininity and motherhood,

which is not only conceptualized within heteronormativity but also within homonormativity’s

assimilatory logic. In addition, Walks (2014) further examines the public discourse of

motherhood and assumptions made about pregnancy in queer relationships. For instance,

participants in her study discuss the hegemonic logic between pregnancy and femininity:

It’s not acceptable in the queer community to have trans people, butch people, all these

people who are not feminine to be pregnant – I have to feel people …think weird of

me, I mean if we are supposed to be a community that is about accepting…and yeah, I do

this thing, [being pregnant] and it is like, “Why would you do that?”. (Walks, 2014, p.

82)

As a result, feminine motherhood continues to be a hegemonic concept within LGBTQ2S

communities.

Moreover, Nixon (2013) discusses both the European and United States context, in which

trans bodies challenge the reproductive logic associated with naturalness and procreation within

heteronormativity through a reproductive justice lens. Specifically, Nixon (2013) articulates the

18
Genderqueer is a term and identity that challenges gender normative logic within the heteronormative framework
that seeks to determine individual gender expression and gender roles. For instance, male bodies are designated as
“masculine”, while female bodies must be “feminine”. Other words such as “genderfucking”, “gender variant”, and
“gender non-conforming” are used interchangeably with genderqueer.
 61

distinction between active Eugenics described as, “laws and policies that encourage or

discourage reproduction among certain populations” and passive Eugenics described as, “laws

and policies that have the effect of encouraging for discouraging reproduction” (Nixon, 2013, p.

81), which provides a strong analysis for the states’ various responses and requirements for

validating and changing gender markers. For instance, several European countries require sexual

sterilization in order to change identity documents, while the United States has requirements that

are varied in recognizing trans people’s rights (Nixon, 2013). Many of the more conservative

states, like Kentucky and Montana, require a licensed physician to indicate that the gender of the

applicant has undergone a change by “surgical procedure”, with no explicit guidelines for what

constitutes “sex reassignment surgery” (Nixon, 2013).

These surgical requirements provide an instrument that continues to enable further social

and economic stratification, as those who can afford these expensive treatments and procedures

have access to state validation of their gender identities. Trans peoples often lack access to

medical service as well as information concerning their sexual and reproductive health, which

continues to produce health disparities. For trans people of colour, there are additional barriers,

as they are even more likely to be refused treatment (Nixon, 2013). The World Professional

Association of Transgender Health (WPATH) has pointed to the lack of research on trans

people’s reproductive health, especially in relation to trans people who are receiving hormone

therapy as a part their transition (Nixon, 2013). As a result, trans people WPATH advocates that

fertility preservation be a component of their transition. However, these fertility preservation

options are linked to ART fertility service, which includes freezing the individual’s eggs and

sperm as well as storing them at the facility. Once again, these fertility preservation options as
 62

Mamo & Alston-Stpenitz (2015) exhibits are the impact of the expanded commercialization of

fertility, which continues to privilege those who have access to other forms of social and

economic power. Consequently, Eugenics-based policies are maintained along several

intersections based on race, class, gender, and sexuality, as the state operates on the assumption

that not only that medical intervention is a prerequisite for validating trans peoples’ bodies but

also that reproduction decision-making is not essential to their gender identity, which

significantly constrained the autonomy of trans people who experience multiple sites of

marginalization.

Stigma and Marginalization within LGBTQ2S populations

Historically, the Eugenics movement played a significant role in the social construction

of sexuality (Ordover, 2003), which also coincided with the White racial formation (Ferguson,

2006). Within heteronormative racial logics of the state, White ethnic immigrants such as

Eastern European, Irish and Jewish peoples were assimilated into racial White in North America

during the post-war era (Ferguson, 2006). Through this process of constructing Whiteness in

United States and Canada, Black and East Asian, South Asian, and Indigenous peoples having

corporeal differences enabled racial exclusion (Ferguson, 2006). Similarly, within the

mainstream lesbian and gay movement, non-normative identities including bisexuals, trans

people, Two-Spirit people are excluded from participation. In tandem, neoliberalism and

homonormativity maintain social privileges along race, class, and gender lines through advocacy

for same sex marriage (Puar, 2006; Duggan, 2002; Ferguson, 2006; Hutchinson, 1997), which

represents a White, cisgender, middle- and upper- class movement. As a result, race and class
 63

are often excluded (or narrowly focused in terms of gender) within mainstream gay and lesbian

analysis.

Many scholars have discussed the lack of scope in research and representation of

diversity and intersection within the study of race, gender, and sexual orientation:

social categories such as race/ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation are often treated

singly as if they operated independent of one another; for a large part, separate theories

and bodies of research address racial identity, gendered identities, and sexual identity, as

well as racism, sexism, and heterosexism. By focusing on one identity at a time, such

approaches then to assume majority group status on other identities, representing, for

example, the experiences of lesbian, gay, and bisexual persons who are White and

African American who are heterosexual. (Brooks, Bowleg, & Quina, 2009, p. 41)

Queer people of colour experience multiple sites of marginalization, and many not only

experience heterosexism, homophobia, transphobia and sexual stigma within their own

communities (Lorde, 1984; Bennett & Battle, 2001; Garcia, 2012; Loughrin, 2015; Moore, 2011;

Waller & McAllen-Walker, 2001) but also experience racism within queer communities (Lim-

Hing, 2005; Brooks, Bowleg, & Quina, 2009; Fukuyama & Ferguson, 2000; Waller & McAllen-

Walker, 2001; Smith, 2010; Puar, 2006; Moore, 2011; Hutchinson, 1997; Ferguson, 2006). For

example, in Moore’s (2011) study on Black Lesbian motherhood and families, she notes that

while seeking to find her specific sampling choice (Black lesbians) she was unsuccessful in her

initial recruitment as she observed that Black lesbians were not accessing services at the LGBT

Community Centre. However, she found that she could engage them through Black gay

community events with more success (Moore, 2011). Additionally, within LGBT Centres,
 64

programs focused on homeless youth drop-ins, and HIV clinics have high percentage of

racialized queer people, while programs focused on cultural arts, seniors, and family services

draw high participant by White LGBT people (Ward, 2008). Thus, drawing from these examples

illustrates that systemic reasons rooted in multiple sites of marginalization have contributed to

the lack of racialized and Indigenous queer participants at the 519 Church Community Centre’s

queer and trans parenting courses.

The significance of examining queer theory discourses through intersectionality and

reproductive justice frameworks not only provides an extensive analysis within existing

scholarship but also demonstrates the interconnectivity needed to challenge assimilatory

processes of homonormativity and homonationalism within queer communities. Through these

discussions that provide a queer analysis on Eugenics, nationalism, reproductive stratification,

this chapter has argued that marginalization continues to intersect along race, gender, sexuality,

and class lines. Thus, reproductive justice as a movement offers alternatives to non-normative

and racialized queers, and social justice approaches in reframing not only reproductive decision-

making and but also family planning pathways.

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CHAPTER 5 – CANADIAN PUBLIC POLICY AND

REPRODUCTIVE JUSTICE FOR QUEER FAMILIES:
WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

Reproduction is not just a matter of individual choice. Reproduction health policy affects

the status of entire groups. If reflects which people are valued in our society; who is

deemed worthy to bear children and capable of making decision for themselves.

Reproductive decisions are made within a social context, including inequalities of wealth

and power. (Roberts, 2000)

Within the Canadian context, reproduction has a long history in being framed within the concept

of citizenship. The state, through its interventions in various public policy domains actively

engages in defining motherhood and by extension fatherhood as White, middle-, upper- class,

able-bodied, and heterosexual (Cattapan, 2014). This chapter will discuss various approaches of

using a reproductive justice lens in addressing several policy domains impacting queer family

planning. Firstly, this chapter will examine Canadian policies on reproduction using the

theoretical framework of reproductive citizenship. This approach demonstrates many limitations

and highlights the need for a reproductive justice framework, in order to include queer families.

Secondly, this chapter will analyze family case law to illustrate the exclusionary tendencies of

citizenship, tracing how the law privileges heterosexual nuclear family model of family

formation and examine new directions for parental rights offering opportunities for legal reform

as well as LGBTQ2S advocacy to queer service delivery organizations. Finally, this chapter will

provide new emerging policy directions by using the reproductive justice framework as an

instrument for transforming alternative ways of meaningfully conceptualizing family diversity

within the public sphere.

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Broadening the Scope of Reproduction: From Citizenship to Justice

As discussed in chapters 3 and 4, the state has used both nationalism and reproduction as

fundamental characteristics in defining citizenship. As Cattapan (2014) illustrates, “the idea of

‘mothers of the nation’ (re)producing workers, soldiers, and parents draw on even older ideas

about the nation itself as mother or father” (p. 158). During the 20th century, especially in the

post-war era, Canada instituted various citizen entitlements linked to reproduction that in turn

upheld normative notions of family. Social welfare entitlements placed emphasis on the male-

headed family as a prerequisite and aimed to incentivize women to return to domesticity and act

as primary caregivers (Cattapan, 2014). For example, during this period, women’s access to

services was contingent on their non-participation in the workforce and actively engaging

respectable forms of motherhood through domestic labour (Campbell, 2009).

However, the erosion of the welfare state and the rise of neoliberalism resulted in social

policy reforms that sought to “roll back” social services and overall re-entrenchment of the state.

The retrenchment of the Canadian state in the 1990s, as described by Evans, Richmond &

Shields (2005), indicates that there was a radical re-structuring of state- societal relations,

through the devolution of public services and severe cuts of federal funding to the provinces.

Specifically, through New Public Management (NPM), public administrative approaches to the

implementation of neoliberal policies off-loaded social services and re-enforced individualizing

and exclusionary notions in relation to reproduction. Consequently, through these processes of

exclusion, discourses of “reproductive citizenship” emerged, which positions the state as

governing who can “reproduce with whom and under what social and legal conditions”
 67

(Cattapan, 2014, p. 154). As a result, reproduction became re-conceptualized as a right of

citizenship.

Reproductive citizenship, as discussed by Turner (2001), extends the theoretical

framework of sexual citizenship to one that examines how normative sexual minorities construct

reproduction as a link to the notions of belonging, recognition, and participation. Reproductive

citizenship provides a critique of the individualizing and exclusionary effects of present

reproductive governance (Cattapan, 2014). Reproductive citizenship has developed over the past

30 years alongside the erosion of social benefits, which has ushered a “medical model of

infertility that frames fertility as an issue of individual concerns, resulting in the exclusion of

certain social groups” (Cattapan 2014, p. 155).

These policy trends are evident, in the aforementioned AHRA, and seek to regulate,

exclude, and criminalize certain groups whose intention it is to participate in assisted

reproductive procedures. For example, under AHRA, gay men’s sexuality continues to be

pathologized and policed, as men who have sex with men are excluded from donating sperm in

Canada, unless they submit a special application by their doctor, undergo medical screening, and

receive a letter of approval from the Minister of Health (Cameron, 2008; Radbord, 2010;

Cattapan, 2014). This regulation was ultimately upheld by the Ontario Court of Appeal in Doe v

Canada, which blocked a lesbian couple from using their queer male friend’s sperm for

insemination (Cameron, 2008). Likewise, gay men using altruistic surrogates, many also

encounter similar challenges (Cameron, 2008; Radbord, 2010; Cattapan, 2014), as the use of

their sperm is considered illegitimate within biomedical fertility discourse. Consequently, the

criminalization of using queer men’s sperm as known sperm donors has led to going
 68

“underground” via self-insemination, which is also prohibited under AHRA, as all inseminations

outside fertility clinics are, in-effect illegal (Cameron, 2008; Radbord, 2010; Cattapan, 2014).

Thus, for many Canadian queer families, using queer men’s donor sperm for family planning not

only systematically marginalizes and criminalizes the act of planning their families but also

effectively denies them citizenship in limiting their reproductive decision-making.

Other reactions to AHRA have included advocacy for publicly funded access to assisted

human reproduction technologies and services, which expands who can access reproductive

citizenship. For instance, in Ontario’s Raising Expectations: Recommendations of the Expert

Panel on Infertility and Adoption, there are recommendations that continue to affirm citizenship

and reproduction through its endorsement of provincial funding for assisted human reproduction

technologies through the Ontario Health Insurance Plan (OHIP).

We believe that publicly funding in-vitro fertilization (IVF) in Ontario under certain

conditions, described in the section on assisted reproduction, will go a long way to

supporting the health and well-being of mothers and children. It’s now time for Ontario

to catch up with other jurisdictions who have reaped the benefits of publicly funding IVF.

We urge the government to fully implement this recommendation within 18 months.

(The Expert Panel on Infertility and Adoption, 2009, p. 147)

Six years later, Ontario’s 2015 Budget announced that it would be providing “one in-vitro

fertilization (IVF) cycle per patient for all eligible forms of infertility” (Ministry of Finance,

2015, p. 162). In these parameters stated, queer people are not only excluded but also erased

within the heteronormative discourse of infertility, for many queer people issues of “infertility”

is not the basis for which they are accessing fertility clinics technologies and services. Similarly
 69

in Quebec, the only other Canadian jurisdiction that funds assisted human reproduction

technologies and services (since 2010), same-sex couples and single women were disqualified

from publicly funded access to IVF (Fidelman, 2013; Cattapan, 2014). Consequently,

reproductive citizenship is restricted, placing queer families at the margins of these policy

changes. Once again, public policy approaches to family diversity not only fail to capture queer

families’ experiences around reproduction and circumstances for accessing fertility services, but

also limits eligibility criteria within heterosexual understandings of reproduction. Due to the

constricting policy parameters in acknowledging and legitimizing queer reproductive decision-

making, reproductive justice provides the alternative needed to address the heterosexual

hegemony implicit within current public policy that to regulates reproduction.

Paradigm Shift towards Queer Families: The Limits of Same-Sex Families

Queer liberation movements liberation have self-regulated and marginalized less

normative voices, as Bernstein and Reimann (2011) show, “the lesbian and gay movement

regulates internally who are the acceptable queer and who are the queers better left in the closet”

(p. 5), producing a movement dominated by the voices of lesbians and gay men. Accordingly,

the term “sex-same” has become the dominant discourse to describe the containment of

assimilatory constructions around sex, gender, and sexual orientation in social, political, and

legal contexts. Consequently, the majority of the literature on LGBTQ families has been focused

on lesbian-led families (Stacey, Foreword, 2013), which has stemmed from the gender

expectation of motherhood and childrearing as well as feminized gendered work within family

ideologies. In contrast, gendered expectations position gay men as “anti-family” and have not
 70

been associated with caring for children (Hicks, 2011; Goldberg, 2012). Increasingly, however,

there is a growing body of literature on the experiences of gay fathers (Rivers, 2013; Berkowitz,

Gay Men and Surrogacy, 2013; Menichiello, 2006; Goldberg, 2012; Martin, 1993; Veldhoven &

Vernon, 2009), however this has only strengthened the same-sex discourse as its focus remains

limited in terms of the intersections of class, gender, sexual orientation, and romantic identities

(Mendez, 2009; Epstein, 2009; Bernstein & Reimann, 2001; Moore & Stambolis-Ruhstorfer,

2013), yet, the exception is Moore’s (2011) study on Black lesbian and bisexual families in New

York. Likewise, many queer family research studies focus on adoption and IVF as primary

family formation pathways, with surrogacy and co-parenting narrowly discussed. As a result, the

body of literature that seeks to study same-sex families is not only limited in considering

families within LGBTQ2S communities but also narrowly discusses monogamous gay and

lesbian couples from a predominant White, middle-, upper-class standpoint.

These limitations illustrate the severe gaps in representation, visibility, and empirical

knowledge of trans (Downing, 2013; Pfeffer, 2012) and bisexual parents experiences (Dobinson

& Ross, 2013) as well as racialized, Indigenous, ethnic- minorities, and non-western queers

(Moore & Stambolis-Ruhstorfer, 2013; Moore & Brainer, 2013; Hicks, 2011; Mendez, 2009;

Lubbe, 2013). Therefore, there has been an ever-growing shift toward using the term “queer” to

convey the diversity of other non-normative gender identities and sexual orientations (Bernstein

& Reimann, 2001) and destabilize binary categories of identity along gender and sex –

gay/lesbian, man/woman (Gamson, 1995). What is more, “the concept ‘queer’ can be marshalled

to mean anything that challenges heteronormativity” (Bernstein & Reimann, 2001, p. 3).
 71

More specifically, in examining the ideologies of family, queer families provide the

experiential basis for a transformative theoretical framework that not only contests the

privatizing effect of the nuclear family model, but also resists the foci of sexual dimorphism

instilled in mainstream representations of the ideal family (Bernstein & Reimann, 2001). These

tensions occurring between queer and gay and lesbian movements offer a comprehensive lens

for discussing processes of social stratification and marginalization as well as the production of

privilege. Accordingly, there must be more empirical research done to capture the experiences of

non-normative queers with diverse social and cultural vantage points within the Canadian

context. Doing so will not only address the gaps in current knowledge, but also effectively shift

evidence-based policy making toward meaningful inclusion of queer family within Ontario’s

discourse around family diversity. Therefore, in exploring queer family pathways, it is critical to

examine not only the methods that queer families are seeking, but also social, economic,

political, and legal contexts that influence each distinct pathway to family formation.

Queer Family Case Law Challenges

Presently, the Canadian legal context’s limited purview continues to marginalize queer

family formation, as the state continues to legally validate the heterosexual nuclear family

model, privileging biological notions of parenthood. As aforementioned in chapter 1, Arnup

(2000) discusses the homophobic legal system in Canada, with the growing amount of custody

cases involving lesbian mothers fighting for custody of their children from previous heterosexual

relationships during the 1970s and 1980s. Rayside (2008) provides a similar analysis with

regards to gay and bisexual men’s experiences of custody battles for their children. Despite the
 72

shift towards the legal recognition of same-sex marriage in 2005 and lifting bans on same-sex

adoption in Canada, family law within the Canadian legal system still continues to be deeply

embedded within heteronormativity.

Since 2005, many Canadian family court cases have challenged the heteronormative

foundations in which family is built, for instance the Rutherford Applicants, which consisted of

four Ontario lesbian couples who challenged the denial of immediate parental recognition on

their children’s birth registration under the Ontario Vital Statistic Act (VSA). The court

proceedings revealed an internal government document that explicitly required the rejection of

same-sex parents’ birth registration applications (Radbord, 2010). Conversely, the court struck

down the birth registry regulations under VSA and ruled in favour of the Rutherford Applicants

stating:

Lesbian mothers lack even a language to identify themselves. Given this overall context

of homophobia and heterosexism, it makes an even bigger difference to them for the

government to recognize their parental relationships. Failure to recognize these

relationships perpetuates views that there is something wrong or unnatural about their

families. Rather than the law seeking to remedy their historic disadvantage, it is placing

additional burdens upon them, and is therefore discriminatory. Likewise for children of

lesbian mothers…exclusion of their parents from birth registration further this

vulnerability. (Radbord, 2010, p. 9)

Although this ruling advanced same-sex family recognition, the Canadian legal system still

largely conceptualizes family within the two-parent nuclear family model with uneven

provincial legislative responses to the diversity within queer family formation.

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Currently, in most Canadian jurisdictions, with the exception of Quebec, known sperm

donors have parental status as sperm operates within the parameters of biological kinship in

validating family and parental rights (Kelly, 2011). Paternity still enables legal access to

children; for instance, known donors still have legal claims to parenthood. These legal claims by

known donors continue to jeopardize the status of non-biological mothers, even in cases in

which donor contracts are drafted, as these contracts are not legally binding in Canadian case

law (Kelly, 2011).

Kelly (2011) notes the heterosexual legal context lesbian couples must negotiate when

forming a nuclear family configuration. Citing key legal cases including M.D.R v Ontario and

M.A.C v M.K. Kelly makes it clear that the known donor’s status as a legal parent may be upheld

yet the non-biological parent and their parenting rights may be excluded. In order to pursue a

nuclear family model, the known donor must first and foremost relinquish their parental rights;

and it is only then that the non-biological parent can pursue a second-parent adoption process in

order to gain formal parental rights (Kelly, 2011). However, the consent of the biological parent

is also imperative, as seen in the BC case K.G.T v P.D, where the biological mother refused to

consent to the non-biological mother’s adoption of their daughter, which resulted in the non-

biological mother being denied access to her daughter (Kelly, 2011). Non-biological mothers

face additional barriers in second-parent adoption because an adoption cannot be filed until the

child is three or six months and adoption law require the services of a lawyer (Kelly, 2011).

What is more, Canadian family law is still for the most part is often incapable of

recognizing families with more than two parents (Kelly 2011). Although A.A v. B.B successfully

acknowledged a family with two mothers and the donor father in the Ontario Court of Appeal, it
 74

is not applicable outside of Ontario (Kelly 2011). In Quebec, although Family Law is more

inclusive, as parental rights and claims are designated with a parental project framework, which

gives rights to the non-biological parent using assisted conception methods (Kelly 2011).

However, there are limits within the parental project framework, which still uses a two-parent

family scheme, as seen in A v. B, C and X where the non-biological mother lost parental rights

because the donor father and biological mother engaged in sexual intercourse as a reproduction

method (Kelly 2011).

More recently, in Alberta, D.W.H. v D.J.R, a case that involved a lesbian couple and gay

couple that agreed to conceive two children, where each child was to live and be parented by

each couple (Cameron, 2008; Kelly, 2013). However, when the gay couple separated, the

biological father and lesbian couple sought to withdraw the non-biological father’s access to the

child due to the non-biological father’s “HIV positive status, emotional state, and his choice in

sexual partners following the breakup” (Cameron, 2008, p. 103). In court proceedings, the non-

biological father regained reasonable access to his child, however, as the court battle unfolded,

where the non-biological father sought to secure legal parental rights, the court ultimately ruled

against the biological father, “on the basis that the child was conceived via donor insemination,

and thus the biological father was a “donor” and not “parent” under the relevant law” (Kelly,

2013, p. 3). Initially, the court ruled that the sole parent of the child, who was raised and

parented by the gay parent, was the biological mother, however, it took 6 years for the non-

biological father to be acknowledged as a legal parent (Kelly, 2013). Ultimately, the court still

declared that the child had two legal parents, the biological mother and the non-biological father,

while the biological was a legal guardian (Kelly, 2013). Consequently, the decision in D.W.H v
 75

D.J.R demonstrates the complexities and unpredictability of applying heterosexist and gendered

legislative discourse in non-normative queer families, which places families in a precarious

position. Thus, there are not only legal, social and cultural barriers but also economic barriers for

queer families in formalizing their parental roles and rights when challenging the

heteronormative family structure. Notably, for queer families that do not have access to the legal

system, which tend to be communities that lack class and racial privilege, these families are even

more vulnerable when seeking to maintain social and cultural forms of family recognition. In

using a legal analysis, there are gaps in within this discourse, as the lives of queer racialized and

Indigenous families are invisible within this social context.

Family Legislative Reform

Both Cameron (2008) and Kelly (2013) noted that there has been some engagement of

legislative reform and precedence-setting decisions in Canadian courts that included queer

families, though these are still limited. Presently, there have been progressive shifts, as the

province of British Columbia sought reforms to the Family Law Act in 2013 that includes queer

families. Under section 30 of the Family Law Act, a multiple parent family is recognized, but

only in the following two situations:

First, it provides for legal enforcement of a pre-conception written agreement between an

intended parent or parents and a birth mother that all three parties are the child’s legal

parent (for example, an agreement between a single man or gay couple and a surrogate).

Second, it provides for legal enforcement of an agreement between a birth mother, or a

birth mother and her spouse, and a gamete donor that the parties to the agreement are the
 76

child’s legal parents (for examples, an agreement between a single woman or a lesbian

couple and a donor). (Kelly, 2013, p. 6)

British Columbia Family Law Act reforms offer potential in expanding notions of families to

include three co-parenting queer families. However, one of the stipulations is that the partner of

a donor will not be considered a legal parent. As a result, Kelly (2013) notes that these reforms

do not inevitably seek to delve into recognizing the intricacies of queer families’ formation but

to provide legal validation that continues to centre the relationship between a child and both

biological parents.

Activism and Advocacy Through Queer Family Services Organizations

As mentioned in chapter 2, both the 519 Church Street Community Centre and the

LGBTQ Parenting Network have been active in promoting queer family visibility through its

programming and development of resources. Presently, the 519 Church Street Community

Centre offers comprehensive 12-week queer and trans family planning courses, Dykes Planning

Tykes and Daddies and Papas 2B as well as weekend intensive version of the courses. The

course covers major themes including considering parenthood, co-parenting, surrogacy and

assisted human reproduction, adoption, and preparing for parenthood as well as provide an

extensive reading list and range of resources (519 Church Street Community Centre, 2014).

The courses’ objectives include:

1. To increase knowledge of the emotional, social, medical, financial, legal, and other

pragmatic and systemic issues, processes and resources related to family planning for

gay/bi/queer-identified people so they can make informed choices.

 77

2. To increase participants’ confidence in decision-making and self-advocacy.

3. To build community and increase support networks for and among diverse

gay/bi/queer-identified prospective parents. (519 Church Street Community Centre,

2014)

Panels of past participants, community organizers, experts, queer parents as well as children of

queer parents are incorporated into the course to provide information about their lived

experiences and answer questions of participants. These courses not only offer participants a

wide array of informational resources, but also provide opportunities for community building

among potential new parents.

Since the 519 Church Street Community Centre Queer Parenting Programming is the first

of its kind in Canada, it has developed in partnership with the LGBTQ Parenting Network,

which is a training program targeting other community centres across the province to provide

LGBTQ culturally competent family planning courses and programming. As a volunteer in these

courses, I made recommendations to the course coordinator to include more of a social justice

approach to courses, including the development of self-reflective exercises for participants in

understanding and acknowledging their social locations within current economic, social, and

cultural contexts while navigating their journey into family planning. Additionally, I suggested

developing outreach strategies actively targeting non-normative queers including bisexuals, trans

people, racialized and Indigenous queers in other community centres and organizations in the

Greater Toronto Area that serve racialized and Indigenous queer people.

More broadly, the LGBTQ Parenting Network has various resources that are publically

available on their website. These resources address Birth Registration in Ontario for queer
 78

parents, Trans Parenting, and Assisted Human Reproduction for LGBTQ parents. The Birth

Registration resource presents key issues for queer parents including the different policies and

processes for registering the birth of a child including: known versus unknown donors,

surrogacy, trans parents, second parent adoption, sole parent, two parents, and more than two

parents (LGBTQ Parenting Network, 2014). Similarly, the resource addresses assisted human

reproduction in Canada for queer people, offers a guide to navigating the assisted human

reproduction clinics, which historically are not set up for queer people (LGBTQ Parenting

Network, 2012). Additionally, this guidebook offers important information about pregnancy

options, AHR counselling, AHR and HIV, AHR supports, legal considerations as well as cost in

each Province and Territory (LGBTQ Parenting Network, 2012). Thus, these resources are

focused on rights and self-advocacy for queering reproductive processes that continue to be set

up for heterosexual parents.

Recently in 2014, the LGBTQ Parenting Network released several resources on trans

parenting called the Trans Family Law Project. These series of resources address trans identities,

laws regarding gender identity, as well as sharing the parenting experiences that are directly

related to trans people (LGBTQ Parenting Network, 2014, 2014). These resources highlight key

issues impacting trans families including legal rights in divorce and separation, legal resources,

legal background and context for trans parents as well as parenting alienation (LGBTQ

Parenting Network, 2014, 2014). The Trans Family Law Project provides crucial information

and resources for non-normative queers in relations to their rights, self-advocacy, and best

practices.

In light of the issues highlighted in the previous sections in this chapter there are other
 79

areas where the LGBTQ Parenting Network work is relevant including developing a response to

Ontario’s IVF policy for queer inclusion resources in navigating Ontario’s legal systems for co-

parenting family formation as well as advocating for progressive reforms exhibited by British

Columbia.

Together, both the 519 Church Street Community Centre and the LGBTQ Parenting

Network have the capacity to provide programming and resources for queer families. As

discussed in this and preceding chapters in this MRP, assimilatory shifts in mainstream gay and

lesbian movement in the United States and Canada need to be resisted, with more expansive

social justice approaches. Through the discussion in this chapter, queer families are still

vulnerable in navigating a heteronormative society, in which there need to be shifts toward more

meaningful representations and discourse of the family diversity in Ontario. Therefore, reflective

work is necessary in addressing gaps in empirical knowledge, expanding legislative reforms as

well as working to resist homonormative discourses that legitimize exclusion within queer

communities.
 80

CONCLUSION

This MRP has demonstrated the diversity within queer communities and in queer family

formation from the post-war era to the present. During the post-war era, lesbian and gay families

were largely invisible due to pressures to conform to the heteronormative nuclear family model.

However, the Gay Liberation Movement in the 1970s provided an energizing force for social

change, increasing same-sex family visibility that has culminated in a lesbian and gay baby

boom. Alternative theorization has legitimized kinship outside of the heteronormative nuclear

family, with family planning methods such as adoption and co-parenting. There have been

assimilatory shifts in mainstream lesbian and gay culture through homonationalism and

homonormalization discourses that seek to validate biological kinship through IVF and

surrogacy as well as reinforce existent economic, social, cultural, and reproductive stratification.

With the advent of assisted human reproduction, fertility clinics services, and surrogacy

arrangements a degree of respectability has been achieved and made available to normative gay

and lesbian couples. Conversely, these shifts and co-optation within heterosexual hegemony

have continued to displace non-normative, racialized, and Indigenous queers to the margins of

society. However, through a review of the literature, this MRP has illustrated many gaps where

racialized and Indigenous queer families are absent from queer family studies as well as the

current legal, social, and cultural contexts that intersect with reproduction, parent rights, and

recognition. In using standpoint feminist approach, this analysis situates and legitimizes lived

experiences for non-normative queers and their desire to form families. Through a mixed

methodological approach of content analysis and CDA, this MRP provides resistance to

dominant discourses within both heteronormative and homonormative notions of kinship and
 81

family by providing discursive discourses of queer family formation that go beyond the two-

parent nuclear family model.

Social justice approaches within the reproductive justice movement must continue to

provide alternatives to racialized and Indigenous mothers in deconstructing and resisting

economic, social, and cultural context that interlock within a “matrix of domination” (Collins,

1990). Reproductive justice extends beyond the “Freedom of Choice” narratives within the

reproductive right movement. Organizations such as SisterSong and NYSHN expands the

reproductive justice movement towards forms of governance, empowering communities that

have been controlled and repressed by state intervention through processes such as Eugenics,

nationalism, colonization, and surrogacy. This paper has extended the reproductive justice

movement through an application of a queer lens and by deploying multiple themes including

Eugenics, nationalism, colonization, assisted human reproduction, reproductive stratification and

dimensions of genders, sexuality, and race. Through the use of intersectionality, queer, and

reproductive justice theoretical frameworks, this MRP provides a comprehensive analysis of the

current economic, social, and cultural order, which produces reproductive inequalities amongst

queer peoples. The final chapter used the discourse of reproductive justice to address several

policy domains that continue to marginalize and exclude queer families from social, legal, and

cultural recognition through reproductive citizenship and heteronormativity.

In conclusion, this MRP provides meaningful ways to address key issues impacting non-

normative and racialized queer families. Jointly, a broader paradigm shift from the same-sex

discourse toward more inclusive notions of queerness is needed to reinvigorate research aimed at

addressing the current gaps in knowledge within queer family studies, as non-normative queer
 82

families are currently understudied. There is great potential for others to design more expansive

and inclusive research on queer family formation to more accurately reflect the diversity within

queer communities. Currently, policy and legislation that regulate parental rights and assisted

human reproduction is deeply embedded within a two-parent nuclear family framework, which

precariously places non-normative queer families at the outskirts of everyday life. As a result,

shedding light on these issues offers different avenues of activism and advocacy for queer

service delivery organizations in Ontario such as the 519 Church Street Community and the

LGBTQ Parenting Network.

 83

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