By: Jamie Lee Carter
Updated: Dec. 26, 2015
Originally Published: Feb. 10, 2015
“Mom, how does the baby get inside the tummy?”
“If a nuclear bomb detonated in Denver, would it affect people in Texas?”
“Why was Martin Luther King, Jr. shot?”
“What’s the real story behind abortion?”
“And if two girls get married, how do they have kids?”
These thought-provoking questions always seem to come up when I’m stuck in traffic, the music blaring, and I’m just trying to get the kids home safe so we can argue over dinner options while smoke fills the kitchen from my latest culinary disaster.
Sometimes, these conversations become so extensive that they spill over from the car into the dinner table, transforming mealtime into what I like to call “The Time To Stump Mom.” My kids, ranging from 6 to nearly 13, present a unique challenge: the answers to inquiries about sperm banks and global catastrophes must be carefully tailored. It’s not that my youngest can’t handle the topic of sperm banks; he just doesn’t need the intricate details.
The other day, as we tumbled out of the car and tried to navigate the laundry room, my 8-year-old daughter suddenly asked if she could marry pop sensation, Ruby Star. My overly sarcastic self replied, “Of course, sweetie, but you’ll have to go to a different state to make it official. Maybe Hawaii!” I continued into the kitchen, ready to lament about what to make for dinner. But when I glanced back, I saw her standing there, a confused look on her face, her backpack resting at her feet.
“Wait, is it illegal for me to marry Ruby Star? Are we going to jail?”
“No, sweetheart, it’s just not recognized here in Texas.” My mind raced, trying to gauge how much information my daughter really needed. Should I delve into health benefits and legal rights? “If Ruby Star became a firefighter and died on the job, you wouldn’t be entitled to her benefits in Texas.” I restrained myself from saying this, but it was a real struggle.
Instead, we sat down for dinner, and I explained the importance of marrying the person you love. We even discussed how the Supreme Court might change laws one day, allowing her and Ruby Star to tie the knot anywhere they choose.
At 8, my daughter is still figuring out the complexities of sexuality, but she’s definitely aware of it. I recall my own childhood at that age, grappling with similar questions, yet the topic of marriage equality was hardly a part of my conversations. It’s a bittersweet feeling; sometimes I want to scoop her up, pat her back, and tell her how fortunate she is to be growing up in a world that, while imperfect, is slowly evolving.
The famous women she loves are often presented in a glossy, media-friendly way, but there are also genuine moments of representation. Adults may debate the meanings behind songs like “I Kissed a Girl,” but we now have TV shows featuring same-sex couples and discussions about gender and sexuality in elementary schools. My children have friends from same-sex families, and at their school, families with two moms or two dads are just part of everyday life. A trans student once came out in my son’s fifth-grade class, and their response was simply, “Your new name is awesome!” Then, life went on. (This sparked a later car conversation about gender identity that began with, “Mom! Did you know your gender is really inside of you instead of on your outside?”)
When I think of my role models at her age—people like Lily Tomlin, Louise Fitzhugh, and Sally Ride—I can’t help but wonder how different my own childhood would have been if I had seen more representation in pop culture.
Navigating these car-to-dinner chats can be frustrating; often, we never arrive at a definitive conclusion. There are infinite directions each conversation could take. Our discussions about marrying Ruby Star sometimes shift into, “Yes, but not every child has the privilege to discuss these topics openly with their parents, which highlights the need for ongoing change.” Our talks about nuclear war come with, “Yes, but we can’t overlook diplomacy.” And our sperm bank discussions transform into, “Yes, but it’s not like you can just withdraw from an ATM.”
Ultimately, I can’t answer many of the questions my kids ask. All I can do is hope the world continues to evolve, that they find answers as they grow older, and that they feel empowered to be part of that change. Despite the challenges of discussing complex topics like Hiroshima, multiverses, and gender identity while managing homework and complaints about taco night—again—I’m grateful for these conversations. I hope my children never stop asking questions.