James' Family Journey

James LaVeck

California

In 2002, my late husband and I decided it was time to start a family.  At that time, we weren’t legally married and were only recognized as “Domestic Partners” in the state of California. 

At this point in our relationship, we had been together four years.  Yet, our parents weren’t necessarily supportive of our decision for various reasons – some of which included the perception of gay parents being perverts and the belief that our children would be ostracized and bullied for having same-gender parents. 

We chose to become parents via Foster/Adopt program through our county.  Once we made that decision and got involved in the foster parenting community, we became “ambassadors” and mentors for other LGBTQ+ foster and adoptive parents.  We established a Father’s Group, for both gay and straight fathers, to talk about the challenges and opportunities we had as fathers.  We were recruited by a Catholic mentor and facilitated the bringing together of at least 4 different families. 

The conditions in which our children were exposed so early in life were frightening.  My daughter was the youngest of 9 children, all of whom were in the system.  My son was the 5th, exposed to drugs in-vitro, and a birth mom who didn’t know who the father was. 

In 2005, the adoption of our daughter and son became finalized.  By then, our parents had come around and welcomed our children into the family as their grandchildren.  And now, as some states are working actively towards barring LGBTQ+ foster or adoptive families, my mother (at 79 and a new user of Facebook) has become a vocal advocate for our families.  She’s seen, first-hand, that my children are no worse than any others, they are well-adjusted and well-rounded with opportunities they wouldn’t have had otherwise. 

My mother’s experience mirrors the peer-reviewed, long-term studies that show, time and again, the children of LGBTQ+ families fare no worse than children raised by opposite-gender couples.   

In 2008, we legally married before Proposition 8 passed in California.  We decided to leave the state in 2011 for various reasons and needed to find somewhere that would recognize our family.  At that time, few states provided those same protections that marriage afforded us as a family.  Massachusetts fit the requirement and we moved where we had no family and few friends.  2 ½ years later, my husband passed away and I became a single parent of soon-to-be teenagers.  He was 51 years old – another statistic in the opioid epidemic. 

It’s now nearly 8 years later.  Our children are now adults, still living at home with me and going to school.  Growing up as a gay kid, I never thought I’d have the opportunity to be a parent, though I always wanted to be.  But it was something we were told we’d never get to have, like marriage equality.  I look back at where my children came from, the obstacles they’ve had to endure, and I see happy, well-adjusted kids.  I see young adults that are so much like their peers that it’s evident being raised by gay men caused no harm to them. In fact, I think it’s very much the opposite. My children are welcoming of diversity and approach most situations with open minds. 

I would hope we’re beyond identity politics and willing to see and understand the data that exist.  I would hope we will start making decisions truly in the best interests of the children involved and the families that can provide the necessary supports.  But it seems we’re sliding backwards from an enlightenment and reinforcing old stereotypes that have little to do with reality.  I would hope that we all agree the most important factor in any decisions of this sort is the well-being of the children.  The well-being of the child may well be to be placed with LGBTQ+ families.  Every child deserves a loving, protective home.