Reprinted from Council on Contemporary Families Brief Report

A briefing paper prepared for the Council on Contemporary Families by Renee Ryberg, Child Trends, and Arielle Kuperberg, University of Maryland, Baltimore County

April 2, 2025

One in five students at community and four-year colleges in the United States are raising children while trying to earn their degrees—and this number may grow as access to abortion becomes more limited. Many student parents find themselves in precarious economic positions, and are often on their own to pay for college. As we found in a new study of students at two public four-year universities, fewer than 1 in 10 (9%) student parents got financial help from their own parents to pay for college tuition or living expenses. By contrast, nearly two-thirds (64%) of childless students received financial help from their parents.

The higher education landscape continues to evolve, serving a more diverse student body. The average college student today is no longer the carefree, wealthy 18–22-year-old highlighted in American movies. Although higher education—and the economic benefits that come with it—are available to more people, there is a fundamental mismatch between how colleges were designed and the realities of many of today’s students. Higher education was designed for students to depend on their families, with students’ parents largely footing the bill.

But, as our new study in The Journal of Higher Education finds, that is often not the reality students with children face. Although student parents tend to be older than students without children, differences in age or background (race, parents’ education, region, gender, grew up in US) don’t explain all of the gap in help from their parents. When examining students of the same age and background, we found that the odds that a student parent received help from their parents to pay for college was one-third of that of a student without children.

This disparity puts barriers to graduation in front of the 3.1 million undergraduate student parents pursuing higher education to better the lives of themselves and their children. Instead of getting help from their parents, student parents must draw on a unique and complex set of resources to pay for tuition and living expenses while navigating a college system that was not designed for them.

Examining how Student Parents Pay for College

To examine how student parents pay for college, we analyzed unique survey data collected in 2017 from 2,830 students at two regional public universities. Of those who completed the survey, 338, or 12 percent, identified as parents—a rate comparable to the national rate of student parents at public four-year colleges and universities.

More than half of the student parents that we surveyed used student loans, Pell grants, or money earned from a job to pay for college—the same resources that many of their fellow students without children rely on. But, parents and nonparents rely on these resources to different degrees. And, student parents can’t count on their families to pay for higher education in the same way that childless students do—and the way the system was designed.

Why don’t students with children get support from their parents when paying for college? After all, they have additional expenses and responsibilities compared to students without children.

One reason is that students who have children are more likely to be considered “adults,” so their families may believe that they should be more financially independent. Or, their families may want to support them through college – but may not be able to do so. Student parents tend to come from families with fewer resources, so their parents may not have extra cash on hand to help them with rent or tuition.

So how do student parents pay for college, if they aren’t getting help from their parents?

Instead of Relying on Support from their Parents, Student Parents Rely on Support from Romantic Partners and the Government

Many student parents rely on support from romantic partners, including spouses: in our survey we found that 43 percent of student parents used a partner’s money to pay for educational and living expenses, compared with less than 10 percent of students without children. 

The support that student parents received from their partners didn’t necessarily make up for not getting financial support from their parents, though. The proportion of student parents who received support from either their parents or partnerswas less than the percent of students without children who received support from their parents.

Student parents also turn to Pell Grants—a federal grant program for students with low incomes or who have parents with low incomes. Two-thirds (66%) of student parents in our study used Pell Grants to pay for college. Once background characteristics are taken into account, the odds that a student parent used Pell Grants was more than three times that of students without children.

Policy Pitfalls for Student Parents

As student parents pursue higher education, they navigate a funding environment at odds with the realities of their lives.

Pell grants do not typically cover the full cost of tuition, much less living expenses. Perhaps because of the relatively low value of Pell grants, and because students with children could not rely on their parents’ financial support, we found student parents took out higher amounts of student loans. They were also more likely to work while in college.

Juggling a job, child care, and college while also navigating a complex financial situation makes it harder to complete a degree. Indeed, research shows that although student parents have GPAs as high as students without children, they are more likely to leave college without a degree.  

But completing a college degree can really pay off for student parents—and their children. One study focused on single mothers found that those who completed a four-year degree were one-third as likely as those who had a high school degree to live below the poverty line, and earned an additional $625,000 across their lifetime. Single mothers who completed a college degree were also less likely to use public assistance programs and contributed more tax revenue.

So what can we do to facilitate success for student parents?

Within the financial aid system, it is critical that financial aid officers are trained to best support students with children. Child care expenses can be factored into loan and grant packages, but many financial aid officers do not communicate this information to students. Pell grants can also be expanded to cover a larger share of tuition and living expenses.

Beyond the financial aid system, many student parents are eligible for federal anti-poverty programs aimed at families with children, such as Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF), Child Care Development Fund (CCDF), Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), and tax credits including the Earned Income Tax Credit (EITC), the Child Tax Credit (CTC), and the Child and Dependent Care Tax Credit (CDCTC). Navigation services on campus can help student parents access this disparate patchwork of supports.

Although many student parents turn to these programs to make ends meet, they are often penalized for being in school. Many of these programs are structured in ways that prevent student parents from receiving full benefits. Work requirements in some states do not fully count going to school. And, other programs, such as the Earned Income Tax Credit, provide lower benefits to workers who earn the least money.

Schools can also help lower costs for student parents by expanding affordable child care offerings to their students, and building affordable family housing on campus, as most colleges do not allow students with children to move into campus housing or have on-campus child care for students.

Training financial aid officers on the needs of student parents, expanding Pell funding, reforming anti-poverty programs to value the long-term investment of pursuing higher education, and building infrastructure on campus that supports parents could help support student parents to complete their degrees—increasing their long-term economic stability and self-sufficiency—which will benefit their children as well.

Acknowledgements

The study discussed in this briefing paper is published in The Journal of Higher Education. We would like to thank JR Moller and Stephanie Pruitt for their research assistance. This material is based upon work supported by the National Science Foundation under grant no. 1947603, and a University of North Carolina at Greensboro Advancing Research Summer Award Grant and Faculty Research Grant, as administered by the Office of Sponsored Programs.

Links

Brief report: https://sites.utexas.edu/contemporaryfamilies/2025/04/02/student-parents-brief-report/
Full study: https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/00221546.2025.2480024/

For more information, please contact:

Renee Ryberg, Senior Research Scientist, Child Trends
rryberg@chidltrends.org

Website: https://www.childtrends.org/staff/renee-ryberg
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/renee-ryberg-8b2a1a2b/

Reprinted from the Council on Contemporary Families Brief Reports

A briefing paper prepared for the Council on Contemporary Families by Zhe (Meredith) Zhang, California State University, Los Angeles

Many people have the experience of providing care to family and friends with serious health conditions or limitations. Most people will provide such unpaid care to their loved ones at some point in their lives. In 2020, about 53 million U.S. adults or 21.3% of the population provided unpaid care such as preparing meals, providing transportation, managing medications, dressing, or bathing a loved one with health limitations or disabilities in the past year. This number of caregivers will continue to rise with the aging American population as most of those receiving such care are older adults.

In a class of mine, I asked the students who would come to their minds when they thought about unpaid caregivers. Most of them mentioned a wife, daughter, sister, or mother. Their observations are consistent with the established research, which has found that in general, women are more likely to be providing care than men.

However, one limitation of this prior research is that it seldom considers sexual orientation. A burgeoning literature suggests that sexual minorities may provide more care than heterosexuals, but many questions remain unanswered. Does it mean that gay and bisexual men are more likely to provide care than heterosexual men? Are women’s higher caregiving rates only prominent among heterosexuals? Do sexual minority men have similar caregiving rates as sexual minority women?

We need to consider sexual orientation in a study of caregiving for several reasons. First, the number of Americans identifying as a sexual minority (e.g., gay, lesbian, bisexual, queer) has continued to increase for the past decade (Jones 2022). Second, gay, lesbian, and bisexual adults have lower partnership and childbearing rates than heterosexuals, which may lead to different caregiving networks and demands (Croghan et al. 2014; Ismail et al. 2020). For instance, sexual minorities’ lower partnership rate relative to heterosexuals may mean that they have fewer demands of providing care to an aging partner.

In a paper recently published in Demography (Zhang et al. 2024), my coauthors and I examined how unpaid caregiving is associated with both gender and sexual identity. One of the main findings in our paper is that not all men have lower caregiving rates relative to women. It is only among heterosexuals that we see a lower caregiving rate among men than women. Gay and bisexual men have similar caregiving rates as lesbian and bisexual women. Heterosexual men’s caregiving rate is much lower than that of bisexual men. This low caregiving rate for heterosexual men may reflect their stricter adherence to gender norms around division of labor (Connell and Messerschmidt 2005), which emphasize that men are responsible for paid work and women are responsible for domestic work such as caregiving. On the other hand, gay and bisexual men in the U.S. tend to hold less conservative views on gender (Denise 2019), which may help explain their higher caregiving rates.

Next, we examined whether the association between unpaid caregiving, gender, and sexual identity varied by partnership status (i.e., whether one is married/in a relationship). We found that unpartnered bisexual men were more likely to provide care than unpartnered heterosexual men, unpartnered gay men, and partnered bisexual men. Bisexual people generally report less social support from family, friends, and LGBT+ communities than heterosexuals and gay/lesbian adults (Dodge et al. 2012; Gorman et al. 2015). Additionally, bisexual men may experience unique stressors related to the perceptions that bisexual men are either not fully “out” as gay men or are unfairly tied to straight privilege (Anderson and McCormack 2016). Feeling even more isolated, unpartnered bisexual men may be particularly incentivized to provide care to a loved one to facilitate more social connection.

To further understand the experiences of these caregivers, we also examined caregivers’ relationship to the care recipient. Among the caregivers, we found that gay, lesbian, and bisexual caregivers generally reported less spouse/partner caregiving than heterosexual men and women, likely because they are less likely to have a partner than heterosexuals. The absence of a partner probably makes sexual minorities more available to care for other loved ones, such as grandparents. We found that sexual minority caregivers were more likely to provide care to a grandparent relative to their heterosexual peers. We also found that heterosexual, gay, lesbian, and bisexual caregivers had similar rates of parental caregiving. This echoes prior work, which showed that sexual minority adult children continued to provide care for older parents even when parents disapproved of their sexuality (Cronin et al. 2011; Reczek and Umberson 2016).

Additionally, we find higher rates of friend caregiving among sexual minority caregivers, particularly among lesbian women. Among the caregivers, nearly a quarter of lesbian women were caring for a friend compared to 14% of heterosexual women. In additional analysis that considers partnership status, we also found that gay men without a partner had higher rates of caring for friends (33%) than unpartnered heterosexual (21%) and bisexual men (15%). In general, prior work has shown that sexual minorities, many of whom are alienated from families of origin, have long built families of choice with whom they share no biological or legal relationship (Lavender-Stott and Allen 2023; MetLife 2010). Research has shown that sexual minorities often provide care to friends that are part of these chosen families. During the HIV/AIDS epidemic, most people infected with HIV identified a gay friend as both their primary caregiver and family (Fredriksen-Goldsen 2007). Taken together, our results suggest that caregiving for a friend may be particularly common among lesbian women and unpartnered gay men.

Overall, our study provides a comprehensive overview of caregiving rates by gender, sexual identity, and partnership status among American adults. We find that women’s higher caregiving rate relative to men’s is only prominent among heterosexuals. Caregiving rates do not differ by sexuality among women, but bisexual men (especially those without a partner) have a much higher caregiving rate than heterosexual men. We also find that among the caregivers, adults of varying gender and sexual identity groups may provide care to different social ties (e.g., parents, partners, or friends). Altogether, our findings help advance understanding of caregiving and changing family ties in an era of population aging and increasing diversity in sexual identities.

For More Information, Please Contact:

Zhe (Meredith) Zhang
Assistant Professor of Sociology
California State University, Los Angeles
mzhang19@calstatela.edu

Links

Brief report: https://sites.utexas.edu/contemporaryfamilies/2024/05/23/unpaid-caregiving-brief-report/
Press release: https://sites.utexas.edu/contemporaryfamilies/2024/05/23/unpaid-caregiving-press-release/

About CCF

The Council on Contemporary Families, based at the University of Texas-Austin, is a nonprofit, nonpartisan organization of family researchers and practitioners that seeks to further a national understanding of how America’s families are changing and what is known about the strengths and weaknesses of different family forms and various family interventions For more information, contact Stephanie Coontz, Director of Research and Public Education, coontzs@msn.com. 

References

Anderson, E., & McCormack, M. (2016). The changing dynamics of bisexual men’s lives: Social research perspectives. Cham, Switzerland: Springer Nature.

Connell, R. W., & Messerschmidt, J. W. (2005). Hegemonic masculinity: Rethinking the concept. Gender & Society, 19, 829–859.

Croghan, C. F., Moone, R. P., & Olson, A. M. (2014). Friends, family, and caregiving among midlife and older lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender adults. Journal of Homosexuality, 61, 79–102.

Cronin, A., Ward, R., Pugh, S., King, A., & Price, E. (2011). Categories and their consequences: Understanding and supporting the caring relationships of older lesbian, gay and bisexual people. International Social Work, 54, 421–435.

Denise, E. J. (2019). Americans’ gender attitudes at the intersection of sexual orientation and gender. Journal of Homosexuality, 66, 141–172.

Dodge, B., Schnarrs, P. W., Reece, M., Goncalves, G., Martinez, O., Nix, R., . . . Fortenberry, J. D. (2012). Community involvement among behaviourally bisexual men in the midwestern USA: Experiences and perceptions across communities. Culture, Health & Sexuality, 14, 1095–1110.

Fredriksen-Goldsen, K. I. (2007). HIV/AIDS caregiving: Predictors of well-being and distress. Journal of Gay & Lesbian Social Services, 18(3–4), 53–73.

Gorman, B. K., Denney, J. T., Dowdy, H., & Medeiros, R. A. (2015). A new piece of the puzzle: Sexual orientation, gender, and physical health status. Demography, 52, 1357–1382.

Ismail, M., Hammond, N. G., Wilson, K., & Stinchcombe, A. (2020). Canadians who care: Social networks and informal caregiving among lesbian, gay, and bisexual older adults in the Canadian Longitudinal Study on Aging. International Journal of Aging and Human Development, 91, 299–316.

Jones, J. M. (2022, February 17). LGBT Identification in U.S. Ticks Up to 7.1%. Gallup News. Retrieved from https://news.gallup.com/poll/389792/lgbt-identification-ticks-up.aspx

Lavender‐Stott, E. S., & Allen, K. R. (2023). Not alone: Family experiences across the life course of single, baby boom sexual‐minority women. Family Relations, 72, 140–158.

MetLife Mature Market Institute. (2010). Out and aging: The MetLife study of lesbian and gay baby boomers. Journal of GLBT Family Studies, 6, 40–57.

Reczek, C., & Umberson, D. (2016). Greedy spouse, needy parent: The marital dynamics of gay, lesbian, and heterosexual intergenerational caregivers. Journal of Marriage and Family, 78, 957–974.

Zhang, Z., Smith-Johnson, M. & Gorman, B. K. (2024). Who cares? unpaid caregiving by sexual identity, gender, and partnership status among U.S. adults.” Demography, DOI 10.1215/00703370-11145841.

Christina J. Cross is an Associate Professor of Sociology at Harvard and a Visiting Scholar at the Russell Sage Foundation. Her award-winning writing has been featured in The New York Times and in leading sociology journals. You can follow her on Twitter: @christinajcross or BlueSky: @christinajcross.bsky.social. Here I ask her about her new book, Inherited Inequality: Why Opportunity Gaps Persist between Black and White Youth Raised in Two-Parent.

AMW: Many people believe strongly that growing up with two parents is the main way for children to be successful, and that it especially helps Black families catch up. But your book shows that even Black kids who grow up with two parents often face big challenges that white kids in similar families don’t. What was the biggest or most surprising thing you found that showed you the two-parent family isn’t the “Great Equalizer” people often think it is? 

CC: One of the most striking and disappointing findings that I uncovered in my research was that African American children from two-parent families often experience the same outcomes as white children raised in single-parent families.

Black kids who live with both their parents have virtually the same rates of suspension and expulsion as white kids who live apart from a parent, and both groups have roughly the same average high school GPA and likelihood of on-time high school completion.

It’s bad enough that gaps in outcomes between Black and white kids from two-parent families are as wide as those between the average child who lives in a single-parent versus two-parent family—as I also find. But to think that Black youth who grow up with two parents in the home often find themselves in the same position as white children who experience parental absence from the home really speaks to the limits of the two-parent family for being an equalizer for kids.

AMW: The book talks about looking at the bigger picture around families, not just who lives in the house, but also things like racism, neighborhoods, and schools. Can you explain how things outside a family’s home can make life harder for a two-parent Black family compared to a two-parent white family?

CC: It’s undeniable that what happens at home matters a great deal for children. However, people tend to underestimate the impact of outside forces. And these outside forces can lead to enormous inequalities between children—even among those growing up with two parents.

For example, family income plays a critical role in shaping children’s later life opportunities.  Research has shown that at every level of education, African American men and women are paid less than their similarly qualified white counterparts. And black-white gaps in earnings are higher among those with college degrees than for those with a high school diploma. If each Black parent brings home less money than their similarly qualified white counterpart, then pay discrimination is visited upon Black two-parent households twice. This results in Black couples having substantially less money to invest in their children’s futures. In fact, I found that by adolescence, African American youth from two-parent families have household incomes that are only 60% of their white peers who are raised in this same family structure.

Another area of social life that greatly impacts family life is schooling. I found that Black youth from two-parent families are two to four times more likely to be suspended or expelled from school than their white peers who grow up with both parents. These disparities in school discipline cannot be explained by behavioral differences between the two groups. My data show that both groups engage in similar types of behavior.

What does differ between Black and white children is how these behaviors are interpreted. Research shows that teachers are more likely to view African American students’ actions as threating and disrespectful than white students. This is another way in which discrimination leads to worse outcomes for Black and white children—even when they’re both raised in two-parent families.

AWM: For a long time, the common story about inequality for Black families focused on single parenthood. Your book presents a different understanding. What is the main, new “story” about families, race, and opportunity that you hope your book helps people understand?

CC: The common story treats African Americans as architects of their own fate. They have a harder time getting ahead in life because they have failed to embody the nuclear family ideal. If they could simply get married and stay married, many of the problems that they are facing would go away.

While it’s true that children who live in two-parent families typically have better outcomes than children who live apart from a parent, my book uncovers a critical, but all too often overlooked detail: the resources and outcomes of this family structure are not equally available to all. I found that even when Black and white children lived in the same type of family, their educational and employment outcomes differed drastically. This inequality of opportunity largely reflected resource disparities—like income, wealth, and parent’s mental health— between Black and white two-parent families. And these resource disparities are not random; they are a result of America’s legacy of slavery, racism and social exclusion.

I hope that my book will help to dismantle the common story and replace it with the one that more accurately reflects the experiences of the roughly 5 million African American children who currently live in two-parent families—and whose stories all too often go untold. My results show that even when African Americans live in the “ideal” family structure, the shadow of inequality looms large. Marriage is no panacea for racial inequality.

However, there are things that we can do to help level the playing field. My results show that Black children would perform profoundly better, and their downstream outcomes would dramatically improve, if racial disparities in access to resources were mitigated, and if the harmful effects of racism were redressed. Doing so would get us much closer to achieving the shared goal of generating greater equality of opportunity for the next generation—regardless of the type of family that generation is born into.

Alicia M. Walker is Associate Professor of Sociology at Missouri State University and the author of two previous books on infidelity, and a forthcoming book, Bound by BDSM: Unexpected Lessons for Building a Happier Life (Bloomsbury Fall 2025) coauthored with Arielle Kuperberg. She is the current Editor in Chief of the Council of Contemporary Families blog, serves as Senior Fellow with CCF, and serves as Co-Chair of CCF alongside Arielle Kuperberg. Learn more about her on her website. Follow her on Twitter or Bluesky at @AliciaMWalker1, Facebook, her Hidden Desires column, and Instagram @aliciamwalkerphd

Elizabethe Payne is director of the Queering Education Research Institute (QuERI). Her work focuses on advancing the well-being of gender and sexual minority students through research-to-policy efforts at the state and federal levels. She is currently completing a 10-year research project exploring implementation of LGBTQ-inclusive state anti-bullying law in New York. Dr. Payne was the recipient of the 2022-2023 American Association for the Advancement of Science, American Educational Research Association Congressional Fellowship.  She also serves on the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) Committee for Bullying and Cyberbullying. Her work has appeared in a number of publications including Teachers College Record, QED: A Journal of GLBTQ World Making, and Educational Administration Quarterly. You can find her on bluesky @ecpayne. QuERI is on bluesky & FB @QueeringEDU. Here I talk to her about her book, Queer Kids and Social Violence: The Limits of Bullying

AMW: What are some of the broader social forces you see at play when queer kids experience violence in school settings and how do schools often overlook them?

EP: Bullying, as a concept, does not currently encompass the range of behaviors that regulate gender expressions. The majority of bullying research has been “gender blind”–failing to look at the sociocultural context of bullying and the ways many bullying behaviors are rooted in reinforcing the rules for “appropriate” gender behavior and sexuality. When discussions of bullying do turn to gender, they largely reinforce gendered stereotypes and essentialized norms of masculinity and femininity rather than exploring the policing of gender boundaries as a primary social function of bullying behavior. Bullying behaviors are not antisocial but rather highly social acts deeply entrenched in the perpetuation of cultural norms and values. Significantly, those norms usually require a fixed relationship between (cis/hetero) gender, sex and sexuality.  Students’ speech, behavior, and self-presentation are regulated by cultural rules mapping the “right” way to exist in the school environment, and youths’ everyday gender policing practices often fail to draw adults’ attention because these behaviors largely align with educator beliefs and the institutional values of school. Young people’s attitudes about difference are partially formed in a school-based social scene that rewards conformity. Youth regularly regulate and discipline the boundaries between “normal” and “different” along the lines of sex, gender, and sexuality and their intersections with race, class, ability, and this process can be a mechanism for acquiring and increasing social status. These patterns of aggression occur constantly throughout the school, producing and reproducing systems of value based on gender conformity, and they often occur within friendship groups making it all the more difficult to see and to intervene. It is, therefore, important to examine the various ways in which schools institutionalize heterosexuality and cisgender identity, silence and marginalize queerness, and support social positioning practices that privilege idealized cisgender and heterosexual identities and behaviors. Current understandings of and responses to bullying depoliticize violence against queer kids, which is part of the continued appeal. Aggression targeting LGBTQ+ students needs to be understood within a broader system of gender regulation that is experienced by all people and in multiple contexts.

AMW: In what ways do you think our current focus on anti-bullying programs might be missing the mark when it comes to actually protecting queer students?

EP: Over time, it has become clear that “anti-bullying” and other individualized interventions are not creating significant change. Anti-bullying programs and policies may be successful (at least temporarily) at decreasing overtly violent acts and making adults more aware of harmful peer dynamics, but such behavioral changes do not challenge norms or values upholding discrimination against sexuality and gender diversity and these discriminatory norms provide permission for youth to target their peers. Patriarchal, cisheteronormative power structures in which these norms are anchored have been largely undisturbed in Western elementary and secondary schools. These are the cultural conditions in which youth learn lessons about gender hierarchies, queer stigma, and gender policing. Portrayal of bullying is decoupled from structural power relations, and focus is placed on the actions of individual students reinforcing the binaries of bully/victim, bad kid/good kid. Intervention efforts are directed toward the individual youth involved in the interaction rather than the structural inequalities that allow for some groups of students to be the targets and others to be the perpetrators. This also enables blame to be placed outside the school—poorly socialized children bring the problem into the school—and avoid examination of the school culture and its role. The bullying discourse has produced a simplistic, taken-for-granted narrative about bullied youth that schools and other institutions can uncritically absorb.  Anti-bullying programs are more often pushing violent behavior underground than they are calling systemic privileging and marginalization into question. Additionally, the increased surveillance and reporting that often accompanies anti-bullying programs disproportionately impacts already marginalized youth including LGBTQ+ youth and students of color.

AMW: What do you hope educators, parents, or even fellow students take away from this book—especially those who want to create lasting, positive change for LGBTQ+ youth?

EP: The questions most often asked about bullying are behavior management questions not questions about the ideological roots of persistent, predictable, patterns of peer targeting. Policies and practices should not only address bullying as it occurs, but also identify and address cultural systems that stimulate and support bullying behaviors and the targeting of difference. Bullying is a complex social problem, not the effect of individual bad children. Educators need to understand the social tools youth use to discriminate, link those tools to institutional culture, and take action to address school participation in supporting categories of marginalization. We know from past intervention efforts that a “just say no” approach is ineffective. We need to make their patterns of targeting visible to youth, talk with them about why they feel it is OK to target others based on a particular identity or characteristic. We need to have uncomfortable conversations about the ways that adults in a school, and outside it, also use gender norms to shame and degrade young people. Bullying is social, not anti-social behavior. It serves a social function and policies boundaries between normal/acceptable and different/not tolerated. We want educators, parents, students to come away from the book seeing bullying as a social problem, not only an individual one, and ready to think in new ways about it.

Alicia M. Walker is Associate Professor of Sociology at Missouri State University and the author of two previous books on infidelity, and a forthcoming book, Bound by BDSM: Unexpected Lessons for Building a Happier Life (Bloomsbury Fall 2025) coauthored with Arielle Kuperberg. She is the current Editor in Chief of the Council of Contemporary Families blog, serves as Senior Fellow with CCF, and serves as Co-Chair of CCF alongside Arielle Kuperberg. Learn more about her on her website. Follow her on Twitter or Bluesky at @AliciaMWalker1, Facebook, her Hidden Desires column, and Instagram @aliciamwalkerphd

“I’m so heartbroken I can barely breathe… Aren’t I family?”

Reprinted from Psychology Today

Dear Readers, enjoy this reprint from Joshua Coleman, a leading expert on marriage and relationships, Dr. Coleman ‘s advice has been featured in the New York Times, USA Today, The Chicago Tribune, Parenting Magazine, Cosmopolitan, Psychology Today, and many others.

Key points

• Grandparents play a valuable role in grandchildren’s lives, providing security and identity.
• Contact with grandparents is on the decline.
• A cultural shift towards severing ties with grandparents needs critical evaluation.

You can live with a broken heart, and you can die with one. But it’s terrible to have to do both.” —An estranged grandmother

Jessica is the 67-year-old mother of Robert, 42. She divorced his father when he was 6 and raised Robert as a single parent with little support.

During COVID-19, Robert and his wife Marie moved into Jessica’s house for a year with their daughter after Robert lost his job in the restaurant business. Their daughter, Charlene, was 5 at the time. Jessica says:

“It wasn’t easy having everyone under one roof, but I really cherished that time with my granddaughter. I’d take her to school and pick her up every day, cook for everyone, and put her to bed most nights so they could go out or relax. I didn’t complain about it, and they didn’t complain about me as a grandmother. I could tell my daughter-in-law was jealous of how much my granddaughter was attached to me, but it didn’t ever come up as an issue other than the occasional glare in my direction.”

Jessica continues:

“Robert eventually got another job, they moved out, and I assumed I’d continue to be active in my granddaughter’s life. I was wrong. About two months after they moved, I got a letter saying they wanted to ‘take a break from the relationship,’ that they had problems with my ‘lack of boundaries,’ and suggested I go to therapy. I was confused, to say the least, but I wanted to know when I could see my granddaughter since this had nothing to do with her. My son said that the relationship with me was bad for his mental health, it was negatively impacting his marriage, and he needed to prioritize his family’s happiness. ‘Well, aren’t I family?’ I asked him and he said, ‘You know what I mean,’ and I said, ‘No I really don’t.’ He said, ‘If our relationship isn’t good for me, then it’s not good for our daughter.’ I’m so heartbroken I can barely breathe.”

Thousands of grandparents today have been cut off from contact with their grandchildren. While this sometimes results from the grandparent’s highly problematic behavior toward the grandchild, my clinical experience, as illustrated in the case above, reveals that grandchildren are often a casualty of the conflict between parents and grandparents.

A recent Fortune survey revealed that contact with grandparents may be on the decline. While 41 percent of Gen X say they have a very close or strong relationship with their grandparents, only 18 percent of Gen Z acknowledged the same. This is tragic since studies show that the relationship between grandparents and grandchildren is not only good for the well-being of the grandparents but also the grandchildren’s development.

Grandparents can make a grandchild feel more secure and loved. They can also correct problematic or even traumatizing behavior from the parents. In a non-estranged environment, grandparents can monitor problematic or dysfunctional family behavior and, where possible, intervene on behalf of the grandchild.

Grandparents also can serve as a rich resource of identity, history, and stories of family members. Because they are often more invested in perpetuating the family lineage, they may carry emigration stories, family recipes, clothing, or culture. Grandparents also provide a different role model of behavior for the child. They might have artistic or intellectual interests that speak to the grandchild, different from the parents’.

In short, grandparents can create a foundation of safety, security, and identity whose removal may be deeply hurtful and disorienting to the grandchild.

Our culture’s disdain for aging reveals itself in the little regard accorded to the role of grandparents when family conflict occurs. Grandparents are viewed as one more relationship to be disposed of when they don’t satisfy the criteria required to sustain today’s parent–adult-child relationships. This is true even when the adult child acknowledges that the grandchildren loved the grandparent, as with Robert.

It is curious to me that a generation that has redefined what should be considered abusive or traumatizing child-rearing is so casual when it comes to casting a grandparent out of their own children’s lives. For a generation obsessed with closely hewing to theories on attachment between themselves and their children, it is remarkable how many seem to disregard their children’s profound attachment to their grandparents.

While this is often framed as modeling healthy boundaries and limits, one has to wonder, How healthy could it be? Is it good modeling to prize your feelings so much that you’ll sacrifice your children’s relationship on the altar of that aspiration? Is it a strength not to be able to separate your child’s needs from your own?

Does it model healthy separation to assume that your children’s mental well-being is so tied to yours that you can’t imagine that your children benefit from a relationship with your parents, even if you find that relationship upsetting or difficult? What does that teach children about the value of older people and what they might contribute to life or society?

Most of the estranged grandparents I work with are bereft and confused. Cut loose from the insulating meanings of family, they survey a world where they have no place in the greater order of things. And like so many, they want to know, “What can I do to get my grandchildren back? What if I never see them again? What can I do to end this pain?”

References

Drew, L. M., & Silverstein, M. (2007). Grandparents’ psychological well-being after loss of contact with their grandchildren. Journal of Family Psychology, 21(3), 372–379. https://doi.org/10.1037/0893-3200.21.3.372

Gair, S. (2017). Missing grandchildren: Grandparents’ lost contact and implications for social work. Australian Social Work, 70(3), 263–275. https://doi.org/10.1080/0312407X.2016.1173714

Park, E.-H. (2018). For grandparents’ sake: The relationship between grandparenting involvement and psychological well-being. Ageing International, 43(3), 297–320. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12126-017-9320-8

Joshua Coleman, Ph.D., is a psychologist in private practice in the San Francisco Bay Area and a Senior Fellow with the Council on Contemporary Families. He is the author of numerous peer-reviewed articles and chapters and has written four books: The Rules of Estrangement (Random House); When Parents Hurt: Compassionate Strategies When You and Your Grown Child Don’t Get Along (HarperCollins) The Marriage Makeover: Finding Happiness in Imperfect Harmony (St. Martin’s Press); and The Lazy Husband: How to Get Men to Do More Parenting and Housework (St. Martin’s Press). He is also the co-editor, along with historian Stephanie Coontz, of seven online volumes of Unconventional Wisdom: News You Can Use, a compendium of noteworthy research on the contemporary family, gender, sexuality, poverty, and work-family issues. His books have been translated into Chinese, Korean, Russian, Polish, and Croatian.

Reprinted from CCF Brief Reports

A briefing paper prepared for the Council on Contemporary Families by Molly A. Martin, PhD, Department of Sociology and Criminology, The Pennsylvania State University

Birth outcomes are strongly linked to income but proving a direct cause-and-effect relationship has been challenging. Our new study, published in Demography, uses the economic boom from Pennsylvania’s Marcellus Shale natural gas development as a “natural experiment” to examine how community-level income gains affect pregnancy behaviors and birth outcomes.

In our research examining birth outcomes before and after the Marcellus Shale boom (2007-2012), we found that a $1,000 increase in average community income led to a 1.5 percentage point decrease in low birthweight births and a 1.8 percentage point increase in expectant parents receiving adequate prenatal care. These benefits accrued across the study site and were also significant in high-poverty areas, suggesting economic development may help reduce adverse birth outcomes among high-risk, disadvantaged communities.

Our study analyzed over 78,000 births in Pennsylvania school districts above the Marcellus Shale geological formation, comparing births in areas that industry experts predicted – before the first well was drilled – to be the best for natural gas extraction with births in areas predicted to be less productive. This geological data allowed us to predict where the economic boom would be greater based on the characteristics of the underlying rock formed 39 million years ago – long before residents made choices about their health behaviors, health care and family goals.

We focus on the economic impacts of natural gas development in Pennsylvania because they were large: gains of over $14 billion between 2008 and 2010 in corporate spending, job growth, and local tax revenue. These gains were important because Pennsylvania was still recovering from the Great Recession. Yet the environmental hazards of Marcellus Shale development, like water contamination, air pollution, and forest disruption, are also important. More research is needed to examine the environmental and health risks of hydraulic fracturing and other oil and gas industry practices.

We used the geological variation of the shale to identify cause-and-effect relationships. With a pre-drilling map of the Marcellus Shale geological formation created by the oil and gas industry, we classified school districts into “treatment” and “comparison” groups based on the predicted economic value of the shale for gas production.

Among the 282 Pennsylvania school districts above the Marcellus Shale, 184 are in the treatment group and 98 are in the comparison group. Relative to the comparison districts, community income in the treatment districts increased by $1,825 per household per year. New York treatment districts did not experience these community income gains because “fracking” is banned there.

We made our causal estimates more accurate with additional steps. First, we accounted for a host of other differences between the treatment and comparison groups and changes that both groups experienced over time. Finally, we examined siblings born before and after the economic boom to control for family characteristics, like the parent’s genetic predispositions, childhood experiences, personality traits and preferences. Together, these approaches allowed us to isolate the effects of community income gains on birth outcomes.

Our findings show that community-wide income gains can improve infant birth outcomes even in the presence of potential environmental risks from natural gas development. Our research design controlled for area-wide hazardous exposures, which prior research demonstrates are harmful for infant health. Notably, we did not find greater water pollution, air pollution, or other environmental hazards in treatment districts relative to comparison districts.

This means our quasi-experimental groups based on pre-drilling information really captured potential income, not drilling itself or its repercussions. Treatment districts did receive more income, but they were just as likely as comparison districts to experience the environmental hazards associated with drilling and gas production. By design, our study was able to isolate the effect of community income gains.

Our study provides strong causal evidence that raising community-level income can lead to reduced rates of low birthweight births. This is notable because low birthweight is an important early life indicator that strongly predicts infant mortality, inhibited cognitive development, and numerous physical health challenges and diseases. In fact, low birthweight and its subsequent childhood risks have long-term consequences like lowered educational attainment, lower lifetime earnings, and shorter lifespans, which has led some scholars to speculate that low birth weight is a key mechanism in the transmission of poverty across generations.

We found that income appears to affect birth outcomes through multiple pathways beyond maternal health behaviors like smoking, gestational weight gain, and prenatal care use. Thus, our work suggests that economic development and other policies that increase community income could reduce the incidence of low birth weight and, thereby, improve population health beyond infancy.

_____________________________________

For More Information, Please Contact:

Molly A. Martin, PhD
Department of Sociology and Criminology
The Pennsylvania State University
mam68@psu.edu

Citation: Martin, M. A., Green, T. L., & Chapman, A. (2024). The Causal Effect of Increasing Area-Level Income on Birth Outcomes and Pregnancy-Related Health: Estimates from the Marcellus Shale Boom Economy. Demography 11691517.  https://doi.org/10.1215/00703370-11691517

Link: https://sites.utexas.edu/contemporaryfamilies/2025/03/05/community-income-brief-report/

As cannabis becomes more widely accepted and legalized, a little-known but increasingly common condition is catching many families and healthcare providers off guard: Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome (CHS). In our recent publication, our research team explores this troubling syndrome, which is characterized by severe, repeated vomiting triggered by long-term and frequent cannabis use.

Though still unfamiliar to many, CHS is on the rise, particularly among youth. In fact, emergency department visits for the condition in the U.S. and Canada have doubled between 2017 and 2021. This trend reflects both the increased availability of high-potency cannabis products and the growing normalization of regular use. In fact, 18% of U.S. 12th graders reported using cannabis in the past month.

CHS does not start dramatically. In the early “prodromal” phase, young people may wake up feeling nauseated and mistakenly believe that using more cannabis helps. Over time, however, they can progress to the hyperemetic phase. This stage is marked by uncontrollable vomiting, abdominal pain, dehydration, and weight loss due to the inability to retain food or fluids. Many affected youth find only temporary relief through long, hot showers or baths, a curious but now well-documented hallmark of CHS. Recovery typically begins only after cannabis use is completely stopped. However, that is often a difficult step for those already using the drug to cope with stress or anxiety.

This issue is worsened by the fact that cannabis today is not what it used to be. THC concentrations, the main psychoactive compound in cannabis, have quadrupled in recent decades, making negative side effects more likely. High-potency cannabis use among youth has been linked to increased risk of depression, anxiety, paranoia, psychosis, and even self-harm. While occasional use doesn’t typically cause CHS, daily or weekly use over an extended period, especially with high-THC products, can be enough to trigger the syndrome.

Contrary to widespread belief, cannabis is not always calming. In some individuals, especially youth, THC can disrupt the body’s natural stress response and gastrointestinal system. Because the brain continues to develop until around age 25, frequent high potency THC exposure during this critical period can interfere with neural growth and the formation of brain circuits responsible for attention, memory, and learning.

One of the biggest challenges with CHS is that it is often misdiagnosed or overlooked entirely. Many physicians are unfamiliar with it, and youth may not disclose cannabis use due to stigma or fear of judgement. This can lead to unnecessary ER visits, expensive imaging tests like MRIs and CT scans, and incorrect diagnoses such as eating disorders like bulimia. But CHS-related vomiting is involuntary, driven by physical factors and not body image concerns.

Treatment is not straightforward either. Standard anti-nausea medications are often ineffective. Some emergency rooms have found success using topical capsaicin cream or medications like haloperidol, which target different pathways involved in CHS. However, the only reliable long-term solution is quitting cannabis use. That is often easier said than done, particularly for youth who may be using it to cope with underlying emotional challenges. For individuals who persist with cannabis use despite clear information linking it to their CHS symptoms, it may be appropriate to involve addiction specialists, substance use counselors, or rehabilitation services. This continued use could also indicate that cannabis has a higher potential for dependence than commonly believed.

So, what can we do? Addressing CHS requires a coordinated response that spans prevention, clinical care, research, public health, and policy. The first step is education. Prevention efforts should begin early, with school-based awareness programs, public health campaigns, and healthcare messaging that clearly communicate the risks of frequent cannabis use, including CHS. Parents, educators, and counselors should also be involved in recognizing early symptoms, such as morning nausea or reliance on hot showers to ease discomfort.

Public health messaging also needs to keep pace with the changing cannabis landscape. As legalization increases access and normalizes use, information about the potential harms of chronic cannabis consumption must be more visible. CHS should be included in these messages to ensure both users and healthcare providers are informed.

Early recognition by clinicians is essential. When youth present with repeated vomiting, abdominal pain, or unexplained gastrointestinal symptoms, CHS should be considered. Screening questions about cannabis use and symptom relief from hot water can be useful diagnostic tools.

There is also a clear need for more research. Studies are needed to better understand the causes of CHS, its risk factors, and the most effective treatments. Randomized controlled trials and population-based research will help inform evidence-based care.

CHS may still be underrecognized, but with coordinated action, its impact on youth health can be significantly reduced.

Dr. Jamie Seabrook is a Professor in the Department of Epidemiology and Biostatistics at Western University, with cross-appointments in the Department of Paediatrics, as well as the Brescia School of Food and Nutritional Sciences. Dr. Seabrook is also a Scientist with the Children’s Health Research Institute, Lawson Research Institute, and London Health Sciences Centre Research Institute in London, Ontario, and a Faculty Associate of the Human Environments Analysis Laboratory. Dr. Seabrook’s research focuses on the social determinants of child health disparities and youth substance use. In 2019, Dr. Seabrook received the Award for Excellence in Research at Brescia University College affiliated with Western University. You can follow them on X: @Jamie_Seabrook1

In April, the Centers for Disease Control generated headlines when it reported that autism now affects one in 31 American children, up from 36 in 2022 and a 2006 estimate of one in 110.  Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert Kennedy responded by promising to track down the “environmental toxins” that have turned a supposedly “preventable disease” into an epidemic that “dwarfs” the Covid pandemic. By contrast, many medical authorities have interpreted the increase as an artifact of broader diagnostic criteria, greater public awareness, and increased screening. Others suggest the increase is real but dispute Kennedy’s claim about the magnitude and causes.[1]

The polarized response to the CDC report, however, threatens to obscure our broader understanding of the cultural, environmental, historical, and institutional factors that shape both autism’s incidence and its meaning. While the neurological differences associated with autism likely have deep biological roots, the way autism is recognized, described, evaluated, and responded to is very much a product of culture, history, and institutional frameworks.

What we now call “autism” is not just an age-old biomedical reality. It is also a cultural construct, assembled over time through layers of observation, classification, and interpretation, and filtered through the differing scientific, social, emotional and moral assumptions prevailing in various societies through the ages. Cultural context determines which traits are pathologized, which are celebrated, and which are simply ignored. In some cultures, avoiding eye contact is considered polite, while in others it is a red flag. Behaviors labeled autistic in one society may be seen as eccentricity or even giftedness in another.

What we understand as autism today is the product of evolving cultural attitudes about difference, normality, and disability. This is not to deny a real neurological base for many of these behaviors, nor to discount environmental factors. Chemical pollutants—airborne particulates, endocrine-disrupting compounds, pesticides—have all been linked to increased autism risk. Nutritional deficiencies in pregnancy and early childhood may also play a role, as may maternal metabolic conditions like obesity and gestational diabetes. These exposures, acting during critical windows of brain development, may subtly alter neural circuitry in ways that heighten sensitivity to social, sensory, and cognitive stressors. And as today’s children experience more screen time, less unstructured play and interaction with peers, and earlier academic pressure than previous generations, this may exacerbate traits that become problematic in overstimulating or inflexible environments.

In the United States, however, such contextual factors are often overlooked. The American model of diagnosis and treatment heavily favors biological explanations—rooted in genetics and brain imaging—over social, cultural, or relational ones. Clinicians are trained to identify codifiable disorders; insurers reimburse for diagnosable conditions; research grants disproportionately fund genetic studies over sociocultural ones.

This biomedical model has real benefits—it has driven research, legitimized neurodivergence, and improved access to services. But it also narrows our view. It risks over-pathologizing differences, underplaying environmental contributors, and overlooking the importance of community, culture, and support systems in shaping outcomes.

Toward a More Integrated and Human-Centered Approach to Autism

The dominant American model tends to frame autism primarily in biological, genetic, or neurological terms. While such explanations have yielded important insights, they also risk portraying autism as fixed and unchangeable—something to be managed rather than understood and accommodated. As a cultural construction, autism is not simply a universal neurobiological fact an experience shaped by how societies define normalcy, support difference, and distribute care. To move forward, we need a more integrated and humane framework—one that takes into account the neurological distinctiveness of autism while also recognizing its variability, plasticity, and responsiveness to context. This means broadening the scope of scientific inquiry to include not only genes and brain scans, but also the environments in which children grow, the relationships that shape development, and the social systems that allocate support.

Only by embracing complexity—biological, developmental, cultural, and relational—can we build a public health and educational framework that protects vulnerable developmental windows, affirms neurodiversity, and ensures that those who think and feel differently are not just “managed,” but understood, supported, and valued in a pluralistic society. Autism is not a disease to be eradicated but a way of being in the world—a developmental difference shaped by biology, environment, and experience. It comes with challenges, but also with insight, creativity, and perspective that can enrich families, communities, and cultures.

This reframing doesn’t deny the reality of suffering or romanticize neurodivergence. Rather, it recognizes that meaningful support must begin with truly listening to the experiences, voices, and needs of autistic individuals themselves. In this spirit, our institutions, policies, and practices should no longer ask: “How can we change the autistic person?” but instead, “How can we change the world to better include and uplift him or her?”

Because autism exists on a broad and diverse spectrum, no single description—or intervention—can capture the full range of experiences. One person on the spectrum may be nonverbal and require round-the-clock care, while another may hold a Ph.D. and still struggle with sensory overload, anxiety, or social nuance. This variability is a defining feature of the condition. It reflects the wide range of ways in which autistic traits—such as differences in communication, social interaction, sensory processing, and behavior—manifest across individuals and across the lifespan.

For this reason, any meaningful approach to autism must begin with individualization. Support systems must move beyond generic programming to meet people where they are, adapting interventions to reflect not only severity of need, but also personal strengths, preferences, communication styles, and cultural context.

In education, this means that two students with the same diagnosis may require very different supports—one might need assistive technology to communicate, while another benefits most from sensory-friendly classrooms and flexible schedules. In clinical care, some individuals may thrive with behavioral therapies, while others will require trauma-informed counseling, medication management, or occupational supports. In the workplace, one person may need a quiet space and modified hours, while another may benefit from mentorship and clear, structured feedback.

Moreover, to truly individualize support, autistic voices must be central in the design of care. Whether through self-advocacy, family input, or person-centered planning, those receiving support must be empowered to help shape it. Respecting autonomy, building trust, and tailoring environments are not just best practices—they are ethical imperatives.

Autism is a spectrum not just of needs, but of humanity. It demands a flexible, responsive, and deeply personal approach—one that treats autistic individuals not as diagnostic categories, but as whole people, deserving of care that reflects their uniqueness.

A society that embraces autistic people as they are—not as problems to be fixed, but as people to be known—will be a society better attuned to the full range of human possibility. In the end, perhaps the real question is not what autism is, but what kind of society we are willing to build around it.

[1] For a careful fact check of the competing claims, see https://www.factcheck.org/2025/04/rfk-jr-misleads-on-autism-prevalence-causes/

A leading authority on the history of families, children, and the life course, Steven Mintz is professor of history at the University of Texas at Austin and the author and editor of 17 books, including the forthcoming The American Child: The Transformation of Childhood since World War II (with Peter N. Stearns).  A past president of the Society for the History of Childhood and Youth and of H-Net: Humanities and Social Sciences Online, he has  been a visiting scholar at Harvard, a fellow at Stanford’s Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences, and a CCF national co-chair.

Reprinted from National Women’s Law Center July 31, 2024

Mothers working full time and year-round make only 71 cents for every dollar paid to full-time, year-round working fathers.¹ This wage gap robs these mothers of $1,667 every month, or $20,000 a year. That extra $20,000 could pay for seven months of rent,² seven months of family groceries,³ and five months of childcare.⁴ The wage gap persists across all education levels and in nearly every occupation, robbing mothers of the money they need to provide for their families.

The wage gap is worse for many mothers of color.
Racial inequities can compound the maternal wage gap.⁵ For example, Latina mothers and Native mothers working full time, year-round are paid just 51 cents for every dollar paid to white, non-Hispanic fathers.
Black mothers working full time, year-round are paid only 52 cents for every dollar paid to white, non-Hispanic fathers. These losses to the wage gap add up to tens of thousands of dollars lost each year, with Latina and Native mothers typically losing $39,000, and Black mothers typically losing $38,000 annually compared to white, non-Hispanic fathers.⁶

Two-thirds of mothers are breadwinners or co-breadwinners for their families.⁷
The loss of tens of thousands of dollars to the wage gap each year means less money for food, rent, education, and other necessities, as well as less, or no, money for retirement or for financial emergencies. Larger annual losses from the intersectional discrimination of the wage gap faced by Black mothers is especially devastating, as Black mothers are even more likely to be primary breadwinners for their families than their white, non-Hispanic counterparts: 68.1% of Black mothers are primary breadwinners for their families compared to 37.2% of white mothers.⁸ Furthermore, in 2023, the unemployment rate for Black mothers was 5.3%, but only 3.0% for mothers overall, meaning Black mothers face additional barriers to making ends meet.⁹ When including part-time and part-year workers, the wage gap for mothers is even worse.
Two out of every three working mothers work full time and year-round, which leaves a significant number out of our analysis if we limit it to full-time, year-round workers. When looking at workers regardless of how many hours or weeks they work, working mothers are typically paid only 63 cents for every dollar paid to all working fathers.¹⁰ And yet again, that figure is deeply compounded by race. When including all workers, regardless of the number of hours or weeks they work, Native and Latina mothers are each paid a paltry 41 cents for every dollar paid to white, non-Hispanic fathers. And Black mothers are paid 48 cents for every dollar paid to white, non-Hispanic fathers.¹¹

Educational attainment does not close the wage gap.

Although educational attainment is one of the primary paths towards economic stability, it does not close the wage gap for mothers. To the contrary, a higher share of mothers (48%) than fathers (42%) have attained a bachelor’s degree or more. Mothers with at least a bachelor’s degree are still paid only 74 cents for every dollar paid to fathers with comparable educational attainment.¹²
For many mothers, additional gains in education actually widens their wage gap. For example, among parents with less than a 9th grade education, mothers working full time, year-round are paid 75 cents for every dollar paid to fathers with less than a 9th grade education. Yet, mothers with a master’s degree are paid only 70 cents for every dollar paid to fathers with a master’s degree. In fact, mothers need to earn a bachelor’s degree ($65,000) to make more than fathers who hold a high school diploma ($50,000), and they must earn a doctorate ($101,000) to make more than fathers who hold only a bachelor’s degree ($95,000).¹³

Occupational segregation contributes to the wage gap.¹⁴
Nearly 3.2 million mothers work in the 40 lowest paying occupations, including caregiving occupations like childcare workers, home health aides, and personal care aides, as well as service industry occupations like waitresses, hostesses, and cashiers.¹⁵ These critical jobs are perpetually undervalued, with workers often making below $16 per hour while supporting families. Nearly two-thirds of mothers working in low paid occupations (63.0%) are mothers of color, and mothers of color are overrepresented in the low-paid workforce: mothers of color make up 6.8% of the overall workforce but 9.6% of the low-paid workforce.¹⁶
This occupational segregation alone does not explain the wage gap, however, as mothers typically make less than fathers even within the same occupations. Among full-time, year-round workers in low-paid jobs overall, mothers are paid 70 cents for every dollar paid to fathers, and again these figures are worse for many mothers of color. Among full-time, year-round low-paid workers:

Latina mothers are paid just 53 cents for every dollar paid to white, non-Hispanic fathers;

Black mothers are paid just 56 cents for every dollar paid to white, non-Hispanic fathers; and

Native mothers are paid just 58 cents for every dollar paid to white, non-Hispanic fathers.¹⁷

The maternal wage gap persists because mothers continue to face a range of structural barriers that result in lower pay, including discrimination, an ongoing care crisis, increasing restrictions on access to abortion and reproductive health care, occupational segregation, and more. The racist and sexist wage gap continues to rob mothers—especially mothers of color—of tens of thousands of dollars a year, money that could have been used to build economic security for them and their families. It is long past time to start paying mothers what they are owed and to stop robbing their families of the financial security they need.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The author would like to thank Gaylynn Burroughs, Sarah Javaid, Eun Kim, Erin Longbottom, Marissa
Moore, Marybeth Onyeukwu, Maria Patrick, Vasu Reddy, Jordan Reynolds, Katherine Sandson, Jasmine
Tucker, Arvia Walker, and Hilary Woodward for their design, review, and dissemination of this factsheet.

FOOTNOTES

1 National Women’s Law Center (NWLC) calculations using U.S. Census Bureau, 2022 American Community Survey (ACS), using IPUMS-USA, available at https://usa.
ipums.org/usa/sda/. Mothers and fathers are women and men with at least one of their own children under the age of 18 at home. Respondents to the ACS selfidentify as either male or female. Employed respondents are all over the age of 16. Median earnings include all workers who earn at least $1. Full-time, year-round is defined as workers who usually work at least 35 hours per week and at least 50 weeks per year.
2 U.S. Census Bureau, 2022 American Community Survey, Table DP04: Selected Housing. Median rent in 2022 was $1,300 per month. https://data.census.gov/table/
ACSDP1Y2022.DP04?q=DP04:%20SELECTED%20HOUSING%20CHARACTERISTICS.
3 NWLC calculations using U.S. Department of Agriculture, Food and Nutrition Service, USDA Food Plans: Cost of Food Report for Low, Moderate, and Liberal Food Plans
for MAY 2024, https://www.fns.usda.gov/cnpp/usda-food-plans-cost-food-monthly-reports. Figure is based on a low-cost monthly meal plan for a family of 4 including
one male and one female ages 19-50, one child ages 2-3, and one child ages 4-5 for a total of $807 per month
4 NWLC calculations using Appendix I from Child Care Aware, Catalyzing Growth: Using Data to Change Child Care https://www.childcareaware.org/catalyzinggrowthusing-data-to-change-child-care-2022/. The average price of child care for one toddler in full time care in 2022 was $10,853.
5 Respondents to the ACS self-identify their race and whether they are of Hispanic, Latino, or Spanish origin. Please refer to the ACS questionnaire for further detail.
6 National Women’s Law Center (NWLC) calculations using U.S. Census Bureau, 2022 American Community Survey (ACS), using IPUMS-USA, available at https://usa.
ipums.org/usa/sda/.
7 Center For American Progress, Breadwinning Mothers are Critical to Families’ Economic Security (March 2021), available at https://www.americanprogress.org/
article/breadwinning-mothers-critical-familys-economic-security/ This analysis uses a 5year data sample collected from 2015-2019.
8 Center For American Progress, Breadwinning Mothers are Critical to Families’ Economic Security (March 2021), available at https://www.americanprogress.org/
article/breadwinning-mothers-critical-familys-economic-security/ This analysis uses a 5year data sample collected from 2015-2019.
9 Unemployment rate – Women with own children under 18 ” https://beta.bls.gov/dataViewer/view/timeseries/FMUP4078853 and ”Unemployment rate – Black or African American women, With own children under 18” https://beta.bls.gov/dataViewer/view/timeseries/FMUP4092254 from the Bureau of Labor Statistics’ Marital and family labor force statistics from the Current Population Survey
10 National Women’s Law Center (NWLC) calculations using U.S. Census Bureau, 2022 American Community Survey (ACS), using IPUMS-USA, available at https://usa.
ipums.org/usa/sda/.
11 National Women’s Law Center (NWLC) calculations using U.S. Census Bureau, 2022 American Community Survey (ACS), using IPUMS-USA, available at https://usa.
ipums.org/usa/sda/.

12 National Women’s Law Center (NWLC) calculations using U.S. Census Bureau, 2022 American Community Survey (ACS), using IPUMS-USA, available at https://usa. ipums.org/usa/sda/.

13 National Women’s Law Center (NWLC) calculations using U.S. Census Bureau, 2022 American Community Survey (ACS), using IPUMS-USA, available at https://usa. ipums.org/usa/sda/.

14 US Department of Labor, “Still Bearing the Cost” (March 2024) https://www.dol.gov/sites/dolgov/files/WB/media/BearingTheCostReport2024.pdf

15 National Women’s Law Center (NWLC) calculations using U.S. Census Bureau, 2022 American Community Survey (ACS), using IPUMS-USA, available at https://usa. ipums.org/usa/sda/

16 National Women’s Law Center (NWLC) calculations using U.S. Census Bureau, 2022 American Community Survey (ACS), using IPUMS-USA, available at https://usa. ipums.org/usa/sda/

17 National Women’s Law Center (NWLC) calculations using U.S. Census Bureau, 2022 American Community Survey (ACS), using IPUMS-USA, available at https://usa. ipums.org/usa/sda/

Have you ever wondered how much we say during sex without uttering a single word? While verbal communication often steals the spotlight, our new study dives into the quieter, subtler world of nonverbal cues and their impact on intimacy. We analyzed the sexual communication patterns of 78 participants, uncovering fascinating insights into what we share—and don’t share—during our most intimate moments.

This study builds on a growing body of research around sexual communication. While much of the existing literature focuses on what we say outside the bedroom, but we examined how we express pleasure, discomfort, and needs in the moment. Spoiler: nonverbal communication plays a starring role.

The Art of (Not) Saying It

When it comes to communicating during sex, participants revealed a preference for letting their bodies do the talking. Many shared that moans, gasps, or even subtle shifts in body position often feel safer and more effective than verbal cues. Why? For some, it’s about sparing their partner’s feelings. As one woman shared, “I’m very responsive with arching my back or moaning. I try to let him know he’s doing a good job with that instead of vocally because I’m not super good at getting what I want to say across correctly, and nonverbal signs aren’t usually miscommunicated between us.”

Others reported that nonverbal communication creates a deeper, more intuitive connection. “As one man explained, “I try to refrain from verbal communication during sex because it takes away from the moment. I’ll pay attention to her and the things that she’s enjoying, while also taking action to make myself comfortable.” Many participants felt that tuning into nonverbal cues allowed for a more seamless, instinctive connection between partners.

However, the study also highlighted a reluctance to express anything negative. One women admitted she would rather endure discomfort than risk offending their partner by saying, “That doesn’t feel good.” This echoes broader societal norms that prioritize affirming men’s sexual prowess while minimizing women’s needs.

Why We Hold Back

The reluctance to communicate isn’t just about politeness. It’s rooted in deeper social dynamics. Participants cited concerns about fragile masculinity, relationship stability, and even personal insecurities as barriers to open communication. Women, in particular, described how societal expectations of femininity often pressure them to prioritize their partner’s experience over their own comfort or pleasure. One woman explained, “I’ve told him that [my not orgasming is] not a huge deal. I don’t want him to feel like he is doing something wrong because I’m not getting off.” Her statement shows how societal expectations of femininity can pressure women to prioritize their partner’s experience over their own pleasure.

Interestingly, male participants were less likely to report withholding negative feedback. While this could reflect traditional gender norms around emotional expression, it also raises questions about how men and women perceive their roles in sexual encounters.

What This Means for Intimacy

Nonverbal cues aren’t inherently better or worse than verbal communication, but they do highlight the complexity of intimacy. The study suggests that building trust and comfort with a partner is key to fostering open communication—whether it’s spoken or silent. As one participant shared, “When I feel safe with my partner, it’s easier to say what I need or want.”

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

The next time you’re navigating an intimate moment, remember: sometimes it’s not about the words you say, but the signals you give and how open you are to receiving them.

Our sexual experiences are shaped not just by what we do, but by how we communicate in the moment. Nonverbal cues—whether a lingering touch, a slight shift, or even shared eye contact—can deepen connection and foster understanding in ways words sometimes cannot. But that doesn’t mean silence is always golden. Building intimacy requires a willingness to bridge the gap between action and expression, creating a space where both partners feel seen, heard, and valued.

At the heart of it all is a simple but powerful truth: great sex isn’t about perfection or performance. It’s about paying attention, not just to what your partner needs, but to what you’re experiencing together in real time. By leaning into this awareness, we can cultivate intimacy that feels not only satisfying but transformative.

So, as you move forward in your relationships, consider this: what’s the balance between your verbal and nonverbal communication? Are you creating space for honesty and connection? And how can you ensure that both you and your partner feel safe to express yourselves fully, in whatever ways feel most natural?

Because when it comes to great sex, it’s not just what’s said that matters. It’s about what’s understood and felt.

Alicia M. Walker is Associate Professor of Sociology at Missouri State University and the author of two previous books on infidelity, and a forthcoming book, Bound by BDSM: Unexpected Lessons for Building a Happier Life (Bloomsbury Fall 2025) coauthored with Arielle Kuperberg. She is the current Editor in Chief of the Council of Contemporary Families blog, serves as Senior Fellow with CCF, and serves as Co-Chair of CCF alongside Arielle Kuperberg. Learn more about her on her website. Follow her on Twitter or Bluesky at @AliciaMWalker1, Facebook, and Instagram @aliciamwalkerphd