Photo by Michael Brosilow
The LGBTQ community has a particular affinity for motherhood. It may seem odd, but for many of us, that maternal relationship offers nostalgia for the moment we figured out we were of that particular persuasion and wondered if it showed. It may not have to most, but our moms probably figured it out, even if they weren’t quite sure what it was, long before we did. Whether by primal instinct or emotional intelligence, or simply the power of observation, a mother knows.
For baby boomers, most moms were of the stay-at-home variety. The role of housewife included all the rituals we associate with the traditional nuclear family of post-World War 2 American. While dad went off to his job somewhere and provided financial security, mom had babies, cooked, cleaned and raised the kids. That day-in-day-out intimacy and attention to detail allowed her to see into our souls. Whether we earned the moniker “sensitive boy” or “Tom girl,” she always had an inkling of something stirring in our pre-pubescent nature. And, once puberty hit, she observed (and often ignored) the signs of things to come. For some mothers, it was a grin and bear it moment. For others, it was a family disgrace. For most, however, even the risk of scandal was overcome by maternal love and protection.
Biological Logical
Like the universality of institution itself, motherhood responds to the necessity of invention on the spectrum from biological to logical and in a myriad of manifestations. Lesbian moms have long been a social phenomenon. Long before marriage equality women who had children in marriages and later separated or simply because they wanted to be mothers created their own families. Sometimes partnered, sometimes not, their struggle with discrimination found some relief with the legalization of same sex marriage. However, they still face the obstacles of negotiating an often homophobic social system while, at the same time, trying to provide their children with a wholesome domestic environment.
In another realm, drag mothers, such as the character portrayed in the Milwaukee Repertory’s recent production The Legend of Georgia McBride, act as mentors and protectors. Older, wiser and experienced in the ways of both the drag stage and ways of the world, these moms are the descendants of the drag “house” culture that originated in the 1920s in New York City’s African-American gay scene. These households naturally had a family structure and hence a mother (as well as a father, of course). The system of “houses,” each with its own identity and name, provided shelter and structure for young LGBTQs who had been abandoned by their biological families.
Milwaukee’s house history, although not as colorful or extensive as NYC’s, included at least three. One, the House of Infinitii, was at first a house in the drag ball traditional but later evolved and focused on HIV outreach, awareness and prevention among the city’s black gay youth.
Ultimately, all these variations on the theme of motherhood share a common set of maternal virtues, expectations and behaviors. They are selfless, protective, defiant and loving. All provide their children with life lessons. None are perfect. But, they certainly impress their maternal ways upon us. I find myself being my mother when I cook. In fact, I still have a cupboard full of her old cookware. Then there’s a good friend who unconsciously channels his mother, offering a steady stream of helpful driving advice whenever I’m behind the wheel.
So, to all the mothers out there, Happy Mother’s Day! And thanks, we couldn’t have done it without you.
