Queer Birthright: San Francisco

Okay, so things have been a bit quiet here at QueerBabyMaking. That, my friends, is because Baby Fang and I have just returned from ten glorious days on the west coast, most of which were spent in San Francisco.

Now, it's true that the Fanglet's first exposure to my favorite of all cities happened in utero, and thus, I recognize that she might not remember it all. But I like to think that, in addition to the lovely California sun shining down on Dolores Park, perhaps my developing fetus will be ever so slightly influenced by all of the happy queers with whom we passed our week.

In any case, I certainly was. It was so nice to spend a week someplace where pregnancy isn't equated with straightness, where queer and genderqueer families are par for the course, where I not only don't look weird, but might even look kind of... normal.

What would it be like to raise my kid in such a place? What would it mean for my kid to grow up surrounded by other queer families, queer single parents even?

My last night in town, I was hanging out with a good friend who lives in Oakland and is single fathering a 14-year-old. As we were walking to the ice cream parlor, his daughter asked me if I planned to move back out there. She then said, "You really should you know, for the baby. There's no place else I'd want to grow up."

Indeed.