Abstract
This article reports the findings of a narrative study of 23 foster fathers involved with an independent foster care agency. These narratives reveal a more complex contribution to the lives of fostered children than is currently attributed to men in the professional literature. Foster fathers are shown to perform traditionally masculine roles by being a supporting carer or disciplinarian, as well as some unexpected and less traditional ones. Through their stories, the men show motivation, emotionality and heroism as they construct versions of masculinity based on caring for children. The narratives reveal patterns that argue for social workers to think of foster fathers in more nuanced ways, and by adopting anti-oppressive practices, to engage with them more effectively as carers. Further work is needed to expand and develop the themes emerging from this study.
Introduction
With three in four ‘looked after’ children in Britain living in foster families, foster care has become the placement of choice for children in the care of local authorities (Department for Education, 2014). While most fostering households include an adult male (McDermid, et al., 2012), the organisation of foster care is highly gendered and research is generally focused on the experiences of women as the main carers (Gilligan, 2000; McDermid, et al., 2012; Wilson, Fyson and Newstone, 2007). This focus on main caring, and by default on foster mothers, limits our understanding of fostering and foster fathers, which is surprising given the increasing recognition afforded to men in the lives of children generally (Lamb and Tamis-Lemonda, 2004). There is some work that looks specifically at men as foster carers and, though limited by volume, this highlights their significance in the lives of ‘looked after’ children (Gilligan, 2000; 2012; Newstone, 2000; Wilson, Fyson and Newstone, 2007). This article seeks to add to this body of work.
The literature mostly portrays foster families as traditionally structured – more so than for society in general, with an apparent demarcation of roles based upon sexual difference (Sainsbury, 2004). Tradition in respect of social practice is a mechanism to legitimise the activity within the continuity of past, present and future and define it as a recurring practice (Hall, 1999). This traditional family structure differentiates male and female parenting roles to reproduce masculine and feminine stereotypes in relation to the man as economic provider and the woman as homemaking carer (Butler, 1990; 1993; Pleck, 2004). Research reports tend to present foster families in this light (Bebbington and Miles, 1990; Gray and Parr, 1957; Sinclair, Gibbs and Wilson, 2004; Triseliotis, Borland and Hill, 2000). This emphasis on foster mothers as main carers would seem to support the argument that foster care in Britain is ideologically associated with the Western nuclear family (Butler and Charles, 1999; Nutt, 2002) and the accompanying fixed mothering and fathering roles (Parsons and Bales, 1956). This gendered construction is reinforced when foster fathers are presented as providing something different to women because they support a more energetic female carer (Fanshel, 1966), are underused (Davids, 1971; Gilligan, 2000), are motivated to promote children’s development (Inch, 1999), undertake professional roles (Hojer, 2004), provide role modelling (Fanshel, 1966; Wilson, Fyson and Newstone, 2007) and are paradoxically hard to reach (Dickerson and Thomas, 2009). While foster fathers are seen as important, they are viewed as secondary to female main carers and not as prime carers in their own right. This version of family dynamics is contrary to social work values based on anti-oppressive practice (Dominelli, 2002) because it confines men to gendered stereotypes and does not recognise diversity. It is also at odds with empirical evidence when it has been shown that fathers who assume the primary caretaking role are just as sensitive and competent as mothers (Lamb and Tamis-Lemonda, 2004).
In contrast to the foster care literature, modern sociological understandings of family practices have moved away from purely tradition-based perspectives as gender roles have become more flexible and negotiable (Giddens, 1992) through, for example, the families of choice discourse (Weeks, Heapy and Donovan, 2001) and stay-at-home dads taking on homemaking roles (Eagly and Wood, 1999; Fischer and Anderson, 2012; Rochlen, et al., 2008). However, the modelling of fostering roles founded on traditionally accepted gender differences limits views of men as carers, particularly when stereotyped masculinity is all too often associated with a singular, rather negative and controlling function (Connell, 1995). Connell, by identifying a range of masculinities that men can utilise, maintains that masculinity is historically constructed with complex intersections between the genders and social class. While these serve to create diverse social codes, they also maintain gender hierarchical positioning (Connell, 1995; 2002). Hearn and Pringle (2006) echo this view and argue that the notion of masculinity operates within a context of patriarchy and the development of plural and dynamic masculinities that reflects a more diversified understanding of patriarchies. The implication of these observations is that gender roles are largely socially constructed and although they are constrained by overarching traditions, are more flexible than generally presented in the fostering literature. Judith Butler (1990; 1993) has related this flexibility to gender and sexuality, and the regulatory discourses that shape gender norms. She contends that gender is formed and that roles are seen in relation to the binary matrix of heterosexuality that classifies individuals along the lines of masculinity and femininity. In this way, masculine and feminine concepts are normalised to reproduce traditionally gendered roles where caring and homemaking are associated with femininity and masculinity is associated with economic providing and protection. However, for Butler gender is performed as a specific social activity within a time and place rather than as a universal expression of personal identity, with the result that exercise of personal identity and agency both affirm traditional parenting roles as well as lead to the negotiation of new ones.
Despite this change in gender roles in society, the conceptualising of gender difference along the lines of masculine and feminine continues to influence social work child care practice and the engagement of men (Scourfield, 2006; Scourfield, et al., 2012), for example through ‘mother-blame’ (O'Hagan and Dillenburger, 1995) and the ‘good dad-bad dad’ binary (Pleck, 2004). As a result, fathers are overlooked in assessments (Featherstone, 2003; 2004) and become invisible ghosts (Brown, et al., 2009). Thus, their potential contribution to children’s lives is missed. Yet, the narratives from this study show that the performance of gender in the social construction of fatherhood in fostering families extends beyond traditionally understood parenting patterns that allocate different responsibilities to men and women. While foster fathers in the study did reproduce existing gendered relations, they also performed dynamic and diverse masculinities.
Research design and sample
Data for this article are drawn from the interviews with 23 foster fathers and from their observational diaries. Quantitative and qualitative material was also collected from social workers employed by a single independent fostering agency managing 2000 fostering households and over 200 social workers. The full research study collected information via social worker questionnaires (n = 70), interviews with foster fathers (n = 23) and foster father diaries (n = 16) but for the purpose of this study, a sample 23 foster fathers were recruited and interviewed using a narrative-based schedule (Hollway and Jefferson, 2000; Riessman, 1993). The sample represented the profile of all the foster fathers participating in the full research (McDermid, et al., 2012) in terms of age, relationship status, ethnicity, sexuality and category of fostering (as main carer, supporting carer and working partner). Their ages ranged from 35 to 69; 20 were white and three black and minority ethnic. All of them fostered as part of a couple, 22 with a female partner and one with his male partner. Seven of the men were classed as main carers, 11 as support carers and five as working partners. Their fostering experience ranged from two years to 45 years; overall, they had a combined foster care experience of 197 years and during the study they looked after 42 children.
Method
Ethical approval was provided by Durham University and once the participants had given their consent, each man was interviewed in his home using a narrative-based interview schedule, and invited to complete a two-week observational diary.
The study used narratives and personal biographies to identify emerging themes from foster fathers’ perspectives. This methodology has acquired an increasingly high profile within the social sciences as it enables social work research to routinely hear the voices and stories of clients (Riessman, 2002). The diversification in biographical research testifies to the variety of ways in which narrative can be interpreted (Andrews, Squire and Tamboucou, 2008; Czarniawska, 2004; Elliott, 2005; Riessman, 1993). The narratives in this study enable men to recount their stories and experiences as they see them and facilitate the identification of trends and themes (Aronson, 1994; Braun and Clarke, 2006; Joffe and Yardley, 2004). The interview schedule explored motivation, experience and support, formulated around ‘can you tell me’ questions (Hollway and Jefferson, 2000; Riessman, 1993). The interviews were taped, transcribed and coded using the NVIVO 9 software package. Through a process of coding and cross-referencing of data, and by close attention to micro and macro levels of narrative, the study was able to identify overlapping narratives and themes (De Fina and Georgakopoulou, 2008).
Findings
The narratives present a complex picture and show that foster fathers take on roles and tasks that extend beyond those expected from men. They perform multiple masculinities rather than one singular version. To illustrate this, we initially present statistical data on roles and satisfaction before moving on to the themes emerging from the interviews.
Statistical data: what foster fathers say they do
Foster fathers’ characterisation of their role.
The foster fathers were able to recount more than one role/task. It can be seen that the most common tasks are: role modelling, entertainer and emotional support. However, the men also mentioned attending meetings, education, maintaining discipline and being a protector. While many of these roles are traditionally masculine, others are less so and the men clearly deliver personal care and emotional support to children, with some (n = 7) providing the main caring role.
How men value their contribution to fostering
Foster fathers’ satisfaction with fostering.*
Data are from foster fathers’ observational diaries.
These responses show that on the majority of days, most men were highly satisfied with fostering: nearly 78% rated each day as either four or five. While the range and nature of their activities varied, the men were obviously satisfied and motivated.
Narrative data
Several themes emerge from the foster fathers’ narratives to show how they produce dynamic masculinities as they take on a range of roles that are both perceived as traditionally and non-traditionally masculine.
Men as traditional carers
The results affirm that many foster fathers adhere, at some level, to highly gendered norms by seeing themselves as secondary carers who support a female partner. For instance, Alex explained: ‘I’m just here to help her out when I can and she lets me know when I can help.’ His role is to follow his partner’s instructions as she is the expert carer and he is certainly not alone in this as it was a recurring theme in the study. However, Stephen showed that there is some flexibility in these situations because ‘She’s the backbone of us all; I do all the running around. When she’s not here I take over her role and vice-versa.’ He is consciously adhering to a stereotyped version of gender where his partner is ‘the backbone’ but he can substitute her and take over when required. While traditional gendered relations are reproduced when Stephen’s partner is present, he nevertheless becomes the main carer when she is not around.
Data from the narratives demonstrate that men perform highly gendered roles when they take on the disciplinarian or boundary setter functions in the home. As Chris explained: ‘I impose boundaries and perhaps I am stricter than most on maintaining [them] I think.’
These roles are traditionally masculine because they involve control alongside providing support to the woman carer. Simon, reflecting on his role as the boundary setter, said: ‘A lot of youngsters look up to males as a dominant figure where a lot of females can be soft-hearted and go “Ah, bless” and I’m not an “Ah, bless” person.’ Simon re-enacts the authoritarian figure in the home because he believes this is expected of him as a man.
Foster fathers in the study often expressed an ideological preference for traditionally gendered roles. While it is not surprising for those categorised as support carers (n = 11) to accept this, it is more unexpected that this view was also expressed by the seven main caring foster fathers. Alan, who left his job following his wife’s promotion at work to become the main carer, explained: ‘We had already agreed I’d be a house husband … So, that was it. I packed in and became a house husband.’
There is the clear impression that foster fathers continue to see parenting roles as highly gendered and normally different for men and women. John, another main caring foster father, talked about how he had taken on the household tasks even though he continued to describe these as women’s activities: ‘What I try to do in my role is to try and do the day-to-day fostering role, the housekeeping role, the shopping role, everything that a housewife would do but in role reversal.’
Both Alan and John explained that, as main carers, they were taking on tasks that challenged their own ideological understanding of gender roles, where parenting responsibilities are different for men and women. However, their daily family practices are more flexible and there is, in reality, some convergence between male and female parenting roles.
Professional fathers and emotional dads
Though legally not classified as employment, foster care is home-based care work. There has been an increase in the rates of remuneration and changing attitudes towards professionalism and responsibilities (Kirton, 2007; Schofield, et al., 2013). As home-based workers, some men devise organisational tools to help them in their task. Peter, whose wife works full-time, explained how he had developed his own system to record his interaction with professionals: You’ve got more paperwork, you’ve got social workers, link workers, you’ve got all sorts of people coming and going. In fact, I’ve got a visitors’ book and I did it solely because of the amount of people that were coming in [to the home]. You forget you did such and such. Well, I can’t remember [every visitor] so you look in the visitors’ book and yes, [that person] turned up last Monday. It keeps a track of who is coming and going.
The professionalising trend in fostering thus encourages men to take it up, but it is by no means the sole motivating factor. Although they acknowledged the benefits of professional status, the men in the study presented fostering as a predominantly caring activity. In Adam’s words: ‘It’s a very good, rewarding job. You [are] putting something back into a kid’s life, which you do as a matter of course; every day I’m looking after them.’
Adam’s association of fostering with employment does not dilute his emotional connection to child care. This emotional connection with children and the sensitivity offered by men contrasts with the professionalisation of caring tasks and stereotyped masculinity, as well as the argument for a distance between paid employee and service-user (Osgood, 2006). The emotional aspect of caring was tenderly expressed by Alex, who commented that ‘[for] every kid that’s gone, I’ve shed a few tears’. While there is evidence in the narratives of men constructing and welcoming professionalism as paid carers, as it reinforces feelings of being valued and respected, they also affirm the importance of relationships with children, involving emotionality and reflection. This emotional support is produced in different ways by foster fathers and it is not always easy to recognise. For instance, Mike talked about why he advocates for children: ‘I stick up for these kids that need sticking up for and fight for them in their corner. You know nobody [else] does.’
In some respects, this expression of support can be perceived as a masculine attribute as it implies both saviour and control. Emotional warmth with fostered children is a difficult area for foster carers because it can be misunderstood as risk-based behaviour. The benefits of emotional warmth between an adult and child within a safe and secure environment are indisputable (Cairns, 2004; Daniel and Wassell, 2002; Gilligan, 2008; Schofield, et al., 2000; Smith, 2005). Following the Children Act (1989) and the sharp increase in allegations made against foster carers (Nixon and Verity, 1996), ‘safer caring’ was devised by The Fostering Network as a means to promote less risky practice (Bray, 1994; Slade, 2006). The threat of an allegation and adherence to safer care practice can, at the very least, prohibit instinctive acts of emotional warmth from men towards children, particularly when hugging a child could be perceived as potentially abusive.
In contrast to the expected withdrawal from emotional attachment, this study has unearthed evidence to show that some men consciously promote emotionality in child care. Through his stories, having been in care himself, Chris shows his empathy for fostered children and their need to feel comforted: [Partner’ name] was there, I put her [foster girl] head on my shoulder and you could feel it, all the rubbish draining out of her and she was lovely and when she went she said ‘this is the best’. Now I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve asked her permission, ‘Can I comfort you?’ Whoever made that rule up … it’s utterly preposterous.
Hugs and cuddles are contentious acts in fostering because they are easily misconstrued as inappropriate. David, who described himself as a secondary carer to his ‘expert’ partner, explained: Well, it’s restricting in both ways because you have now got to be so much more careful. I mean it is normal for little girls to want a cuddle, so they get their cuddle. Make sure they are not on your lap; [or] squeeze them in beside you on the chair or whatever. When [girl’s name] wants a cuddle she gets a cuddle, she gets a goodnight kiss. Well, I always have a laugh, I call it [girl’s name] cuddle and her head is within about that much of me [arm’s length] and her body’s within about that much of me [arm’s length] and her arms which never touch [me], but it’s a token gesture, it counts the same.
The delivery of personal care by foster fathers to children is another difficult area due to the perceived risk of an abuse allegation (Swain, 2006). The experience of many men is that they are not supposed to take part in a child’s personal care, as Miles, who fostered with his male partner, explained: It’s funny, when we went to our training initially they had a foster carer in to talk to the group and she automatically assumed a woman would be doing the bathtime routine, you know all the sort of more intimate aspects. It was like, ‘Hold on, we’re two blokes, what are we going to do?' It’s accepted that women look after children [and] I have to bath [boy’s name] still, but I make him wear trunks. I wouldn’t go and bath him not wearing trunks and things like that. Whereas with my own son it wouldn’t have entered my head to say, ‘Well, put your trunks on.’
Role modelling, masculinity and the heroic man
The literature has highlighted how foster fathers are role models who provide a positive example to children (Fanshel, 1966; Newstone, 2000; Wilson, Fyson and Newstone, 2007). Data from this study also show that men identify with this. In Robert’s words: ‘I think it’s the mentoring and the role modelling, particularly to young men, which is absolutely fundamental to the role of a foster carer.’
Role modelling implies the intergenerational transference of values, skills and attitudes from adults to children; therefore, by being role models foster fathers recreate gendered roles through, for instance, encouraging sport with boys. Butler (1990) suggests the intergenerational transference of gender stereotypes takes shape through everyday language and regulatory discourses, such as girls dressing in pink and encouraging toughness in boys. Alongside transferring intergenerational values, the narratives show foster fathers consciously trying to provide a positive version of masculinity. John explained he was: … trying to be a really good male role model by being more of a hands-on father because a lot of the time, if they come from a single-parent family [where] it’s just mother, they don’t realise that Dad can do the cooking as well, or that I can help them make the bed at all. You know all these other kinds of things – the domestic chores. We strive to make sure she gets the best possible education that she can get and she’s gone to high school, only just gone to high school, and she is really, really thriving. The older one of the two children we have at the moment is a very bright young lady, very bright, but the hard thing is getting her to believe in herself because she has this lack of self-belief.
There is also evidence in the narratives to show that men and women express care in different ways, with men presenting heroic, warrior and saviour roles that have long been associated with masculinity. It has been suggested that the welfare state positions men as breadwinners, nation builders and hero soldiers (Christie, 2006) and that the heroic man resonates to an imperialist construction of men as saviours (Dawson, 1996). Mike, during his interview, showed a strong association with heroic masculinity by stating: You’ve got to be an advocate for these kids and fight for their corner against all sorts of authority and try to get the best for them, and yes, it sometimes makes you feel belligerent, particularly me. I know that, but I’m there to do it for the kids and nobody else would and it affects the way you think about other people. I mean most people would think ‘Oh well, social workers …’ Well, so what? But no, you have got to fight social workers for the kids’ benefits because they make some bloody awful decisions. It’s about the child, so as a man you’re walking in there and you’ve got to be prepared to stand up to be a man because they are looking towards you because most of the boys that are in care are always looking for someone to relate to or to be.
During his interview, Frank reflected on his childhood experiences of residential care and how he thinks role modelling promotes childhood stability. He suggested that boys look to him as a role model because he positions himself as a strong masculine character: ‘If they see a strong character or a strong man [then] it’s something they want to see.’
The heroic perception extends beyond role modelling because some foster fathers do display heroism and warrior traits to rescue children. Frank and Mike aim to present a benign masculinity in control, but not one that is damaging because they seek to restore order into children’s lives. The heroic man, therefore, is more than a mentor or role model; this heroic role is deeply personal for Frank and Mike because it relates to their gender identity as men. Heroic masculinity is much more subjective, patriarchal and personal than a professionalised fostering role or structured mentoring arrangement, where support is scaffolded around the child. The foster fathers, as they perform gender, construct a strong manly image in contrast to maltreating men. The heroic man does not have to be attuned or empathetic to a child or social workers because it is about saving children and is associated with the protector role.
There is, of course, a risk that heroic masculinity can be seen by others as inappropriate and possibly as a sign of aggression. Whitehead and Hearn (2006) argue that heroic masculinity appears to define what it means to be a man. Mike’s narrative presents a heroic man who is often at odds with authority and social work practice, which he believes does not do enough for children. Whitehead (2005) suggests that heroic masculinity is a triad, along with the villain and cowardly non-man. The villain Whitehead associates with the criminal and some of the foster fathers interviewed did retell stories where birth fathers are villains. Mike talked about a child’s father and stated: ‘He’s horrible, he’s a villain, he’s a thug, batters the hell out of her [child’s mother] but not where you can see – all over her stomach.’
He was very critical of the child’s father and set himself up as an alternative heroic father figure who rescues children. This projection of masculinity as saviour and hero can easily be seen as challenging to social workers when foster fathers are critical of birth parents and professionals.
Summary and implications for practice
There are limitations to this study, with its relatively small purposeful sample from one fostering agency, that prohibit generalised conclusions; however, the individual narratives do present a picture that is both surprising and more complex than currently accounted for in the literature. While it is not possible to generalise from the narratives (particularly as they are highly personalised and subjective stories), data from the interviews show interesting patterns that argue for social workers to think of foster fathers in more nuanced ways; to engage with them more effectively as carers and to use anti-oppressive practice to challenge gendered stereotypes of caring. The material and evidence from this study lead to conclusions and thinking that are somewhat different to the perceived concept of masculinity and gender roles attributed to men as foster carers. They show them to be reflective – on fostering, on the care they provide and on how being a man limits their activities. The emerging picture is a complex tapestry of constructed gendered roles within fostering families where the men do not passively act stereotypically. Rather they are shown to have personal agency to negotiate their roles within family contexts. Men in this study present a version of masculinity where men are carers who support their partners, look after children and for whom children are central to their narratives.
This research demonstrates that foster fathers play an important role in the lives of children, which is supported by current research (Inch, 1999; Wilson, et al., 2007). Data from this study show that men play a distinct role in foster care, remain manly and perform diverse masculinities. While existing gendered relations are reproduced by foster fathers with women as primary carers, they create new masculinities that are both traditional and non-traditional. The male narratives show that foster fathers should be assessed as carers in their own right and their contribution should be recognised as important. This is complicated when they perform gender to re-enact traditional masculinity by becoming heroic male figures for children whom they feel have been under-supported or maltreated, and extend this to criticise the child care system and social workers when they feel children’s needs go unmet. This version of heroic masculinity may challenge social workers, who may perceive it as a negative and as a sign of aggression. Concurrent to performing traditionally gendered roles, men in this study show that they take on activities often associated with women, such as nurturing children, attending to close personal care and bonding with children. They thus demonstrate that many mothering and fathering roles are interchangeable. The findings call for more robust and personalised assessments that see men as assets. A recommendation from this study is that men are assessed as men; they may perform gender roles that are expected of them by being male role models and, in some cases, breadwinners, but they are not restricted to these.
The study also suggests that social workers, by supporting men as carers, can help them to negotiate roles within fostering that extend beyond performing gender and which end up conforming to stereotypes and reaffirming relations that portray men as non-carers. These stereotypes are unfair to both men and women and their capacities to care for children. While the foster fathers continued to reproduce traditional masculinity, they also performed less traditionally masculine roles that emphasise the interchangeability between parenting roles and the flexibility for men to take on new responsibilities. The findings suggest that social workers should acknowledge the roles that men socially construct as foster fathers and the potential to negotiate and create new arrangements. This opportunity for social workers to work with men is constrained by current practice, which formulates men within relatively non-interchangeable mothering and fathering roles that routinely limit them to breadwinning or secondary support. The results also suggest that the way men perform masculinity should be reappraised to recognise the possible benefits that different forms of traditional and non-traditional masculinity offer to fostering.