We are delighted to welcome Laura Mucha to the blog.  Laura is an ex-lawyer turned award-winning poet, writer and advocate for children.  Laura's debut poetry collection, Dear Ugly Sisters, was named as one of the Independent's top ten poetry books for children.  Rita's Rabbit is her first picturebook.  Here Laura reflects on parenthood in and outside of books.

As a child it was hard not to compare myself to people with two parents – EVERYONE else seemed to have them. It wasn't just the people around me, it was the adverts, books, films, TV programs, French classes where, for years, we were asked to describe what our mother and father did. (I lied. Not least because my French wasn’t good enough age 11 to say “Actually I haven’t met my father, so I cannot confirm what his current profession is – or if he is even alive. But I can tell you about my grandfather, who I call Dad?”)

It made me feel like an outsider, inferior, shameful. While that undoubtedly helped me develop empathy for others, it could also be uncomfortable and sad.

I remember one of my teachers telling the entire class that single parent families were inferior to those with two – hers is a common view. But it’s not backed up by evidence. While single parents can fare worse than double parent families, when you account for the impact of poverty, this difference dwindles[1]. Given single parents are far more likely to be poor[2], it’s unsurprising we conflate the two.

In fact, staying single can be a hugely positive choice. I interviewed a father from Sri Lanka who decided to stay single after his wife died in her 40s, leaving him with three children under twelve. “I could have settled with somebody,” Kumar explained, ”but I needed to do something for my children: I had to show fatherly and motherly love because they wouldn’t know their mother’s love. Love contributes a lot in life… it’s what you take on board to your future.”[3]

Swathes of research across multiple disciplines show Kumar was right – it is love that we take with us. And sometimes choosing to stay single is the best way to ensure that children feel that love. In some circumstances, children in step-families are psychologically worse off than children with single parents[4]. And in the Harvard Bereavement Study (which followed parents and children for years following their loss), children whose parents dated in the first year after losing their partner had more emotional or behavioural problems (among other difficulties) than those whose parents stayed single.

So why, then, is single parenthood, or any deviation from the two parent family stigmatised? Why don’t we see single parents more frequently and, crucially, more positively in children’s literature? It’s easier to understand why writers like Judith Kerr featured families with two parents and two children because of the time in which she was writing. But surely we are wiser now?

Maybe not.

As far as I’m aware, there’s no research exploring whether children see their family situation reflected in the books they read. But in 2020, 58,346 children and young people were asked by the National Literacy Trust whether they saw themselves in the books they read. 37.3% of those that received free school meals didn’t. (The number was slightly lower for those who do pay for meals, at 31.9%.)[5]

I’m not surprised. Taking picture books as an example – whenever they include any sort of caregiver, there are two parents, usually white and living in a house with a garden. Yet this doesn’t represent 20% of people in England who live in flats (more likely to be those from ethnic minorities and/or living in poverty)[6], and 14.7% of single parent families in the UK[7].

Given single parent families are significantly more likely to live in poverty[8] and poverty is linked with lower levels of literacy[9], children in these households are precisely the demographic that we need to support. Surely being able to see themselves in the books they’re reading is fundamental to that?

So, as well as ranting in blogposts, I make a point of writing about growing-up in non-traditional family structures. Sometimes that means being explicit and exploring what that felt like as a child (as in my poem, Everyone_[10]), sometimes it means depicting everyday scenes where a mother and/or father aren’t part of the household. In Rita’s Rabbit, for example, the two main (human) characters are Rita and her grandfather.

But when I shared Rita’s Rabbit with a number of brilliant and intelligent people, their feedback was, “Isn’t it weird that her parents aren’t there? What, are they on holiday?”

No. Not everyone grows up with two parents. Some only have one. Some have two but one is highly abusive and it’s not safe to stay in touch. Some have none and live with family members. Some live in foster care or institutions.

We know this. We have robust stats that show this represents a significant percentage of children – both here and around the world. And yet, how often do these children see the two parent family portrayed as the norm, to which they and everyone should aspire? How often do they compare themselves to this norm and find themselves lacking?