Nicholas H. Wolfinger is Professor of Family and Consumer Studies and Adjunct Professor of Sociology at the University of Utah. His previous books include Understanding the Divorce Cycle: The Children of Divorce in Their Own Marriages (Cambridge University Press, 2005), Fragile Families and the Marriage Agenda (edited, with Lori Kowaleski-Jones; Springer, 2005), Do Babies Matter? Gender and Family in the Ivory Tower (with Mary Ann Mason and Marc Goulden; Rutgers University Press, 2013), and Soul Mates: Religion, Sex, Children, and Marriage among African Americans and Latinos (with W. Bradford Wilcox; Oxford University Press, 2016). Wolfinger is also the author of about 40 articles or chapters, as well as short pieces in The Atlantic, Huffington Post, and other outlets. His edited collection Professors Speak Out: The Truth About Campus Investigations will be published by Academica Press later this year. Matthew McKeever is Professor of Sociology and Department Chair at Haverford College. His research focuses on the structure of social inequality within a variety of institutional, cultural, and regional contexts, from the U.S. and Europe to South Africa and Asia. This work examines different theories regarding the distribution of education, occupation, and income, and how processes that determine the distribution of these resources vary regionally.   Before coming to Haverford he was at Mount Holyoke College, teaching in the Department of Sociology and Anthropology.  He has also taught at Rice University, University of Houston, University of Kentucky, and Yale University. He received his Ph.D. from UCLA, and his B.A. from Haverford. Here, they talk to us about their new book, Thanks for Nothing: The Economics of Single Motherhood since 1980.

AMW: How has the profile of single mothers changed from the 1980s to today, and what impact does that have on poverty rates?

NHW & MM: In 1980, families headed by single mothers were five times as likely to be poor as two-parent families. Forty-five years later, single mothers were still almost five times as likely to have incomes below the poverty line. How can that be, given the gains in education and employment women have made over the past few decades?

Our book shows that the answer to this question stems from changes in the kinds of women likely to become single mothers. In 1980, most single moms were divorced women; by 2025, the majority are women who had children out of wedlock. On the basis of over 130 charts, we establish that there are profound differences between the two kinds of single mothers. On paper, divorced mothers look a lot like married mothers. The primary difference lies in the absence of a spousal income.

Never-married mothers are a totally different story. To be sure, they have less education and other forms of human capital than do divorced mothers, but their disadvantage is much more pervasive. Even when they do get college degrees, the pecuniary returns are much smaller than they are for divorced mothers (let alone married mothers). We also show that this disadvantage is multigenerational. Never-married mothers are themselves more likely to come from single-parent families. Indeed, they’re less likely to grow up in households with library cards or newspaper subscriptions.

So that’s the science behind the book: a deep dive into the ecology of poverty over the past few decades.

AMW: Why did you frame your research around Daniel Patrick Moynihan and Sara McLanahan’s work, and what did their ideas contribute to your findings?

NHW & MM: Our research connects directly to the work of Daniel Patrick Moynihan and Sara McLanahan, two figures whose ideas have shaped how scholars think about family structure and poverty. In 1965, Moynihan’s report about race, poverty, and single motherhood sparked widespread controversy. Many came to see the report as blaming the victim, and academics studying the family spent the next decade running away from the idea that family structure was something that merited scholarly inquiry (these academics also ignored Moynihan’s structural explanation for poverty, his call for massive investment in disadvantaged communities, and later his proposal for a universal basic income). This was the state of affairs Sara McLanahan encountered as a postdoc (and a single mother) at Madison in 1980. She set out to prove Moynihan wrong, thus launching a very accomplished career as one of our foremost scholars of family structure and poverty (it seemed almost anticlimactic when Sara and Christopher Jencks published an article in 2015 titled “Was Moynihan Right?”)

When we first started thinking about single mothers and poverty way back in the 1990s, Sara McLanahan’s work was the single greatest scholarly influence. As we finished up the book decades later, we realized that we’d come full circle, right back to where Sara McLanahan had started: Daniel Moynihan and his 1965 report.

AMW: How do your findings address conservative claims about welfare disincentivizing work and provide evidence that social programs improve economic outcomes?

NHW & MM: We’d start by pointing out that the majority of people in single-parent families are children, and thus fall victim to benefit cuts predicated on how their parents are supposed to behave.  Our data analysis shows that government transfers comprise an ever shrinking pool of economic benefits for these families—average benefits have fallen, and while they remain an important source of funds for the poorest families, they go to fewer and fewer single mothers. And notice the broader trend: cash welfare gradually disappeared over the same years that the rate of nonmarital births skyrocketed.

Our book challenges the conservative assertion that public aid undermines work by highlighting evidence from programs like the Earned Income Tax Credit (EITC) and the 2021 Child Tax Credit (CTC). These initiatives have demonstrated that direct cash transfers reduce poverty without discouraging labor force participation. For instance, the expanded CTC during the pandemic lifted millions of children out of poverty, and studies revealed no significant decline in maternal employment. About 90% of the CTC funds were spent on necessities like food and housing, showcasing its effectiveness in ameliorating the consequences of poverty​.

We thus contend that welfare is not a disincentive to work (or, for that matter, to get married), emphasizing that providing financial support does not deter work but instead helps families maintain stability. These arguments align with the observations of the late Daniel Patrick Moynihan. The federal government is good at redistributing income but little else when it comes to families. In particular, it is singularly ineffective when it comes to changing cultural attitudes, such as those surrounding marriage.

This leads us to argue that those concerned about American families and children should support bipartisan proposals like the Romney-Bennet bill in 2019, which would have funded universal cash transfers, regardless of recipient income. A government initiative like this could sustainably alleviate economic hardship. These programs counter poverty without the stigma or fecklessness of marriage-promotion policies, focusing on empowering single mothers and thereby improving the lives of their children. These are objectives best accomplished through economic stability rather than cultural engineering.

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: What Practitioners can teach Everyone about 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

American attitudes toward marriage and divorce are changing. In a recent survey, 40% of Americans said they were pessimistic about the future of marriage and the family, and only one-quarter said that having children or being married was very important to having a fulfilling life. Indeed, only about 10% of Americans think that getting married or having children are extremely important as a milestone for adulthood. Americans have held tolerant views of divorce for a while, and a recent Gallup poll shows that 81% of Americans think that divorce is morally acceptable.

Given these shifts in attitudes, we recently conducted a study of attitudes towards marriage and divorce when children are involved. We use data from the American Marriage Survey, conducted across the United States in late summer 2021. The survey includes 2,789 American adults. We created an attitudinal measure to see whether people hold one of the following views:

• Pro-institutionalization attitudes: those who agree that couples who have children should get married and should try to stay married for the sake of their children.
• Marriage deinstitutionalization attitudes: those who do not agree that couples who have children should get married but agree that people should try to stay married for the sake of their children.
• Divorce deinstitutionalization attitudes: those who agree that couples should get married but do not agree that people should stay married for the sake of their children.
• Transformational deinstitutionalization attitudes: those who do not think people should get married or stay married for children.

What do Americans think about marriage and divorce?

A majority of Americans (55%) disagree that people should get married and stay married if children are involved. A little more than one-fifth of Americans (22%) think that couples with children should get married but also think that people don’t need to stay married for their children. Only 16% of Americans are what we might call “traditional” in that they think people should get and stay married for the sake of their children. All in all, people are generally okay with the idea that marriage is not really necessary even when children are involved.

Who is more likely to think people with children don’t need to get married or stay married?

• Women – cis women are 2.7 times as likely as men to think that people with children don’t need to get married or stay married (a similar pattern exists for trans and nonbinary individuals, but it was not significant).
• LGB adults – gay and lesbian adults are 2.4 times as likely and bisexual and pansexual adults are 3.7 times as likely as heterosexual adults to think that people with children don’t need to get married or stay married.
• People who are not married – those who are cohabiting are 1.7 times as likely and those who are divorced or separated are 1.5 times as likely as married individuals to think that people with children don’t need to get married or stay married.

What are the implications of these findings?

We provide evidence of transformative change in Americans’ views as not only do a majority of people support divorce, but this coexists with attitudes that are supportive of not marrying even when children are involved. Attitudes are often linked with behaviors. While there has been a lot of attention to the prevalence of divorce over the last few decades, the concern over declines in marriage may rise as fewer people get married. According to the American Community Survey, 25% of 40-year-old Americans have never married. The US has historically attached many benefits to marriage related to tax, social security, insurance, and public assistance. With clear evidence that people do not feel the need for marriage even when children are involved, there should be more attention paid to policies that provide benefits regardless of marital status. Families come in all shapes and sizes, and there is greater need for policies addressing health care, housing, and multi-parent custody. Finally, there should be consideration of access to legal status and connections that may tie people together outside of the traditional confines of marriage.

Gayle Kaufman is the Maddrey Professor of Sociology and Gender & Sexuality Studies at Davidson College. They study gender, sexuality, and family attitudes, marriage, fatherhood, work and family, and LGBTQ+ families. You can follow them on Bluesky at @gaylekaufman.bsky.social.

D’Lane Compton is a Full Professor of Sociology at the University of New Orleans. Their research focuses on sexual, gender, and family inequalities through social psychology and demographic analysis. You can follow them on Bluesky at @drcompton.bsky.social.

Lucas is a SSHRC Postdoctoral Fellow at University of Toronto Mississauga and was formerly the Justice, Equity, and Transformation Postdoctoral Fellow at University of Calgary. He is the editor of Shame-Sex Attraction: Survivors’ Stories of Conversion Therapy (JKP Books), and he is the author of At Home with the Holocaust: Postmemory, Domestic Space, and Second-Generation Holocaust Narratives (Rutgers University Press), which received the Jordan Schnitzer First Book Publication Award. His public-facing writing has appeared in The Advocate, Queerty, LGBTQ Nation, and Religion Dispatches, among other venues. He is currently working on an edited collection about queer experiences at Christian colleges, universities, and seminaries. You can follow him on Twitter, Instagram, Bluesky, LinkedIn, Facebook, & Threads

AMW Your book highlights the persistence of conversion practices, even in places where they are legally banned. Can you elaborate on how these practices continue to exist underground and the challenges this presents for victims and advocates?
LW: Like all crime, conversion therapy will continue to happen in places where it is banned; just because something is outlawed does not mean it will no longer happen. It oftentimes just means that such illegal activity will go underground. The most common contexts in which conversion practices take place, including in places where it is banned, are Christian churches and ministries. These organizations do not label their efforts to change queer individuals’ sexualities and genders “conversion therapy.” Rather, they use euphemisms—like “pastoral counseling,” “biblical counseling,” and “sexual addiction counseling”—to obfuscate their dirty and damaging work.

These efforts to conceal their conversion practices pose several challenges for victims and advocates alike. Victims are made more vulnerable because those practicing conversion therapy in religious spaces are able to get away with their efforts to change queers; conversion practitioners hide behind religion, arguing that they are helping queers pursue spiritual wholeness, when in reality they are practicing textbook conversion therapy that wreaks psychological, emotional, and spiritual havoc on their victims. For advocates, this euphemistic language, in tandem with religious organizations hiding behind their sincerely held (homophobic and transphobic) beliefs, makes it more difficult to find conversion-therapy programs. Regardless, we advocates will not stop doing our best to expose organizations that practice conversion therapy and to support survivors.

AMW: Shame is a recurring theme in the narratives of conversion therapy survivors. How do you see shame being used as a tool within these practices, and what impact does it have on survivors’ identities and recovery journeys?

LW: Often, shame is what first draws individuals into conversion therapy, and it is also typically one of the main consequences of such practices. Unless they were forced into conversion therapy by their parents, religious communities, or otherwise—and even then, many have long been made to feel ashamed of their queerness—most who undergo conversion therapy are motivated to change themselves by the shame they have been made to feel throughout their lives. Indeed, why would they submit themselves to conversion practices, if it were not for feeling like who they are is dirty, defective, and/or damaged? This shame is then compounded during and/or after conversion therapy. Individuals frequently realize that, despite their efforts to change their sexualities and/or genders, they will never change, which causes them to feel like failures (especially in God’s eyes) and thus amplifies the shame they had felt for years about being queer. As both a significant motivator for and a common outcome of conversion therapy, shame is a necessary ingredient in such death-dealing practices.

AMW: Your book explores the connection between conversion practices and broader cultural and religious systems. What do you think needs to change within these systems to meaningfully address and dismantle the conditions that allow conversion therapy to persist?

LW: Much needs to change. If we think about conservative Christianity specifically, we need to recognize that such a religious system is wildly allergic to difference, especially when it comes to gender and sexuality. Insofar as conservative Christianity is predicated on a binary understanding of the world—black vs. white, of God vs. of the enemy, etc.—there is no room for diversity in numerous senses; everything is considered either right or wrong, and if it does not align with conservative Christian dogma, it is labeled evil or even demonic. This does not allow for productive dialogue.

As such, we need to view this conservative religious system for what it is: emphatically dangerous. We are already seeing the consequences of white Christian nationalism in the United States after Trump regained power, and we will continue to see how destructive this way of thinking and being is. With conversion practices being only a part of this system that seeks the erasure of anyone or any group that looks different from conservative Christians, we must be vigilant and work against the colonizing efforts of the Christian Right to homogenize society in its own image. If we don’t—and I don’t think this is in any way hyperbolic—life as we know it will be radically different soon.

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: What Practitioners can teach Everyone about 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

Reprinted with permission from Newsweek

President Donald Trump has begun his rampage on reproductive rights, and it’s as bad as we expected. Not content with the usual script for every GOP administration coming into power since 1984, of halting US aid to groups providing or even discussing abortion, Trump’s move is true to his brand of mean-spirited, punitive retribution against the most vulnerable. His version of the directive stops the flow of funds not just to organizations providing family planning assistance, but to those offering a wide range of health services—with dire consequences for people across the world seeking not only contraception and abortion, but HIV treatment, child nutrition, and treatment for malaria and tuberculosis.

A 2019 analysis has shown that GOP-led funding cuts have actually had the effect of increasing abortions by 40 percent. That’s a clear sign, if we needed one, that the policy is not about protecting unborn lives but about punishing women. And though the Trump directive has occasioned rightful ire from reproductive rights advocates and others on the liberal end of the political spectrum, on one level the distinction between Trump’s move and increasingly prevalent liberal arguments for increased birth rates is one of degree, not kind.

On this level, the Trump eructation of hateful decrees designed to reduce women to their reproductive capacity is merely the logical extension of the belief, widely accepted all along the political spectrum, that making babies is a social good in itself. This pronatalist worldview is so prevalent on the right and the left and the center; in countries the world over; in religions and families and songs and stories; in the redemption arcs of sitcom heroines; and in the doctor’s offices that deny young women elective sterilization but never question a decision to carry a pregnancy to term, that it has a profound effect on narrowing the spectrum of reproductive choices that people feel are available to them.

In Iran, once a leader in family planning, recent legislation has restricted access to abortion and contraception, required programming in state-run media that promotes childbearing and denounces single, childfree, and small-family choices, and required removal of educational content deemed to discourage childbearing at Iranian universities. Russia has signed into law a ban on “childfree propaganda,” which bans any person or organization from promoting the childfree lifestyle or encouraging people, either in person or online, not to have children. Leaders of two South Indian states have called for women to have more children, in a transparent bid to increase funding allocation for their states.

These efforts are all just desperate attempts by world leaders to bolster their own economic and political power by controlling women’s reproduction. They compound pronatalist pressures felt in the home, as in low-income countries where many women must use contraception without the knowledge of their husbands to avoid divorce or domestic violence.

It is in these countries where women endure the most oppressive pronatalist and patriarchal environments that Trump’s gag rule will hit hardest. Previous iterations of the rule saw disrupted contraception and abortion from Kenya to Nepal, with emboldened conservative Christian organizations launching highly visible anti-abortion campaigns and targeting women and health care workers with intimidation and harassment.

The truth is that the liberal tendency to view Trump’s pronatalist overreach as some unprecedented aberration is unfounded. Trump’s extension of the global gag rule, horrifying as it is, is along a continuum of policies and cultural norms that have defined and limited women’s lives at every level, for millennia. Even progressive policies implemented with the goal of increasing birth rates feed into the time-honored but outdated cultural institution of pronatalism, as they view women not as human beings with the absolute right to make their own reproductive choices, but as tools to achieve economic growth or political power.

To be sure, a safety net that ensures quality of life for all citizens—particularly children and the most vulnerable—should be a baseline provision of the social contract. But we should be skeptical of any government that adopts these measures with pronatalist intentions and not simply because they are the right thing to do. As the experience of Finland demonstrates, even the most generous such policies are unlikely to raise birth rates. In countries all over the world, once women experience the freedom and financial benefits of having fewer children, they are not turning back.

This is why fighting the egregious assaults on reproductive rights by Trump 2.0 is not enough. These assaults are enabled by a cultural landscape that normalizes the notion that women’s purpose is to breed children and assumes that high birth rates would emerge as women’s “natural” choice if only conditions were supportive. When we are told, for example, that American women state in surveys that they have fewer children than their ideal number, we should consider the centuries of pronatalist conditioning that have shaped that “ideal.”

And we should be fighting not only the global gag rule, but the global institutions and cultural norms that pressure women to have children for any reason and interfere with their right to choose any number of children or none at all. At a time when multiple cascading ecological crises, escalating global military conflict, and worsening levels of wealth inequality and poverty threaten our species and others across the globe, we should be embracing global women’s turn toward smaller family and childfree choices, and doing everything possible to ensure that these choices are celebrated and protected.

Kirsten Stade is a conservation biologist and communications manager of the NGO Population Balance. She has worked for more than two decades for nonprofits fighting extractive industries on public lands, safeguarding the integrity of regulatory science, and challenging growth-biased media narratives and political institutions. You can learn more about her here https://www.populationbalance.org/

Abigail Ocobock is a sociologist of families, sexualities, and gender. She has been researching and writing about marriage for over a decade. Her work has appeared in journals like The American Journal of Sociology and The Journal of Marriage and Family as well as in publications such as The Atlantic, Bustle, Slate, and The Daily Beast. Her 2024 book, Marriage Material: How an Enduring Institution is Changing Same-Sex Relationships, published by The University of Chicago Press, draws on interview data with over 100 LGBQ+ individuals, who were among the first to gain access to legal same-sex marriage. She examines how marriage is changing same-sex relationships, and how same-sex couples are changing marriage. You can find out more about Abigail at her website. And you can follow her on Bluesky @abiocobock.bsky.social

 AMW: How do LGBTQ+ people challenge heteronormative assumptions about marriage?

AO: That depends. What types of marriage behaviors are you imagining? Which kinds of LGBTQ+ people are you thinking of? Do you want to know how they try to, or only how they succeed?

LGBTQ+ people regularly resist marital practices that center on assumptions of gender inequality and sexual ownership. Widely shared beliefs emanating from the LGBTQ+ community concerning gender equality and sexual freedom provide them with alternative scripts for behavior.

Engagement proposals stand out as an example. Older LGBTQ+ people who had sustained long-term relationships prior to legal access to marriage usually rejected the need for a proposal, seeing them as a heteronormative practice unnecessary for their relationships. Younger LGBTQ+ people in newer same-sex relationships tended to be much more heteronormative. They insisted on proposals for signaling commitment and as the epitome of romance. Yet they also often insisted on equality in proposal practices. They argued that in heterosexual relationships a man proposing symbolizes his ownership and control of the woman. They made conscious efforts to ensure both partners were mutually proposed to instead. But escaping heteronormativity is not always so easy, and same-sex couples unconsciously bought into heteronormative ideas even while consciously rejecting others. Heterosexual men’s proposals also symbolize his readiness to commit based on gendered ideas about men’s weaker commitment. Some LGBTQ+ people subscribed to a gender-neutral version of this idea, arguing that the person who most needed to demonstrate commitment should be propose first.

Another area in which LGBTQ+ people challenged heteronormativity was marital nonmonogamy. Many sustained non-monogamous marriages. Moreover, many “currently monogamous” individuals displayed a remarkable openness to nonmonogamy as a future relationship form. They believed that spouses should attend to changing sexual desires and needs, and prioritize relational commitment over fidelity. More accurately defined as sexually fluid than monogamous, they were consciously questioning the marital monogamy norm. However, the security they felt to explore nonmonogamy emanated in part from a heteronormative belief that marriage represents a unique form of relational commitment, that outside sex could therefore less easily undermine. In these ways, and others, we observe a messy mix of both heteronormative and LGBTQ+ cultural beliefs and practices in same-sex marriage.

AMW: How does marriage change the dynamics of same-sex relationships?

AO: To be clear, marriage already influenced the dynamics of same-sex relationships before it became legal to marry. Many same-sex couples drew on marital meanings and rituals in their relationships, for example by exchanging rings and having commitment ceremonies, even though they never expected the institution to legally include them.

But after same-sex marriage became legal we observe a much more transformative impact. Half the LGBTQ+ people who participated in my study had formed relationships prior to the availability of legal marriage, half only afterward. The stark contrast between their relationships makes the impact of marital access clear. Younger LGBTQ+ individuals who had come of age with access to legal marriage enacted their relationships very differently than older LGBTQ+ individuals who had sustained relationships without it. For the younger cohort, marriage was taken-for- granted, widely conceived as the norm, and required for relationship investment and success. New dates were vetted as potential marriage material. Reassurances about marriage were needed to feel secure. And marriage was a regular source of tension and conflict in their relationships. This was not usually true for the older cohort, who were better able to conceptualize love and commitment outside of a marital model.

Access to marriage has brought many gains for same-sex couples, including providing a clearer model for long-term relationship planning, the enjoyment of participating in widely recognized cultural practices for relationships, and a way to gain social validation and legitimacy. These freedoms serve to make same-sex relationships more easily legible between partners and to others. But same-sex relationships have also lost something important—the freedom from marriage. Having access to legal marriage has limited what LGBTQ+ people are able to imagine. It shapes how they evaluate potential partners and then narrowly defines commitment and security, creating qualitatively new forms of work, anxiety, and conflict.

AMW: Why does marriage persist even though family life has changed so much?

AO: Americans might be waiting longer to marry, cohabiting first, and having children outside of marriage, but most young Americans still want and expect to marry. Looking at marriage from an institutional perspective, my research shows that marriage persists because it remains a powerful institution with the ability to shape our choices. It operates through three broad institutional mechanisms – regulative, normative, and cultural-cognitive – which work independently and in tandem.

The regulative part of marriage operates through formal rules and laws, such as the policies of state and federal governments, which provide married couples access to rights denied to the nonmarried. So long as marriage maintains a monopoly over important rights and protections the institution will persist. I saw this power among LGBTQ+ people who did not want to marry and who critiqued marriage as an institution, but who nonetheless ultimately decided to marry, or expected to do so in the future, for no other reason than to gain access to some benefit, such as health insurance.

The normative part of marriage helps it persist through informal norms, expectations, and values. People continue to marry because they feel a sense of duty or social pressure to do so, or because they have internalized expectations that marrying is the right thing to do. Many younger LGBTQ+ people believed marrying before having children was the “right thing to do,” despite having only vague understandings of why. Some LGBTQ+ people who did not want to marry also found themselves succumbing to social pressure to marry their more enthusiastic partners, because their own political rejection of marriage was made to feel “selfish” or “immature” in comparison to their partner’s more socially approved of desire for marriage

Lastly, the cultural-cognitive part of the institution ensures marriage persists by establishing shared ideas about what has meaning and shaping what people are able to imagine for themselves. Individuals often marry simply because they cannot conceive of alternatives as meaningful ways to live. Despite the recency of access to legal marriage, many younger LGBTQ+ people took for granted that marriage represents a unique form of relational commitment like. As such, they simply could not imagine long-term relationships without it. So long as our culture promotes this idea, marriage will persist – even if the regulative and normative based mechanisms driving marriage weaken.

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: What Practitioners can teach Everyone about 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

The COVID-19 pandemic brought unprecedented challenges, causing widespread financial strain, heightened mental health struggles, and deepening existing inequalities across communities. While this wave of challenges was felt nationwide, for some, these challenges were magnified. Two such groups particularly impacted by the COVID-19 pandemic include those exposed to incarceration—either directly or through a partner—and those who experienced a pregnancy during the COVID-19 pandemic. Indeed, incarceration is a stressful experience, not just for those behind bars but for their loved ones as well. Going through the uncertainty of the COVID-19 pandemic was a hardship for millions of Americans, but handling this stress while dealing with the impacts of having a husband or partner incarcerated and during pregnancy can amplify stress levels and stressful experiences.

Incarceration is not just an isolated event. It reverberates through families, especially during periods of instability like a pandemic. Even before COVID-19, incarceration exposure has been tied to economic and emotional hardships. During the pandemic, these existing issues were compounded, leading to even more struggles for those trying to navigate pregnancy and prepare for a newborn. When a partner or loved one is incarcerated, families are often in need of critical sources of support. The pandemic made accessing community resources and social networks that could have provided some relief even harder. Under these conditions, these valuable resources are even more critical when coupled with preparing for a birth or caring for a newborn. Even so, whether women exposed to incarceration during pregnancy endured heightened stressors had not been subject to research.

Our Study

Our study explored how exposure to incarceration affected women’s experiences during the initial months of the COVID-19 pandemic. Using data from the 2020 Pregnancy Risk Assessment Monitoring System (PRAMS), we analyzed responses from recent mothers in 17 states that participated in a special COVID-19 supplement. The survey included questions about various stressors brought on by the pandemic, such as job loss, difficulty paying rent, food insecurity, and mental health struggles.

To understand the impact of incarceration, we assessed differences in COVID-19-related stressors between women who had experienced incarceration themselves or through a partner in the year before giving birth and women who had not reported such experiences. The findings showed that women exposed to incarceration reported significantly more COVID-19-related stressors than their peers. On average, they experienced about five different stressors, compared to fewer than three among those without incarceration exposure. They were over twice as likely to face difficulties such as homelessness, increased anxiety, and depression, physical, sexual, or emotional aggression from a husband/partner, as well as problems paying bills and meeting basic necessities like food. For example, nearly 39% of incarceration-exposed women worried that food would run out, while only 14% of non-exposed women shared this concern. These results highlight the unique vulnerabilities that incarceration-exposed families faced during a time of widespread uncertainty and upheaval.

Implications

Our study emphasizes the need for more targeted support for families impacted by incarceration, especially during times of widespread crisis like a pandemic. Programs that focus on helping with housing stability, mental health support, and economic relief can make a big difference. For example, connecting families with community organizations offering public assistance or expanded access to home visiting programs could help ease the burden during tough times.

It is also important for healthcare providers to recognize the unique challenges faced by these families. Screening for incarceration exposure and other social determinants of health during prenatal visits could open the door to resources that can mitigate some of the hardships these families face. By focusing on holistic care that includes social and public assistance support, we can better aid mothers and their families through such challenging times.

While the height of the COVID-19 pandemic has passed, challenges—especially for families who faced compounded difficulties due to incarceration—show few signs of slowing down. As the babies born during 2020 grow into toddlers, their families continue to grapple with the long-term effects caused by the stressors endured by the pandemic and the ongoing collateral consequences tied to incarceration for families and children. Our research highlights a crucial need for policies and programs that support these vulnerable families, especially during their most critical moments.

Alexander Testa is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Management, Policy, and Community Health at the University of Texas Health Science Center at Houston. His research examines the consequences of criminal justice contact and violence exposure on health over the life course. Follow him on Twitter @testaalex

Chantal Fahmy is an Associate Professor in the Department of Criminology and Criminal Justice at The University of Texas at San Antonio. Her research focuses on reentry and reintegration from prison, health criminology, social support and social health, and the intersection of public health and incarceration. Her recent work has been published in Social Science & Medicine, American Journal of Preventive Medicine, Journal of Traumatic Stress, and Journal of Mental Health. Follow her on Twitter @ChantalFahmy

Benjamin Jacobs is a resident physician in Obstetrics and Gynecology at Duke University. His research interests center around adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) and its impact on the prenatal, perinatal, and postpartum periods. Follow him on Twitter @ben_m_jacobs1

Dylan B. Jackson is an Associate Professor in the Department of Population, Family and Reproductive Health at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. He is a developmental and health criminologist who uses a life-course lens to study the intersection of crime, criminal legal system contact, and health among children, adolescents, and families. His research aims to inform policies and interventions that 1) promote health as a developmental crime-prevention tool, and 2) reduce health inequities for children, adolescents, and families impacted by crime and the criminal legal system. Follow him on Twitter @Dr_DylanJackson

When was the last time you heard someone say they wanted sex that was just “good”? Ever heard anyone wax nostalgic about an “average” sexual experience they had? Probably not.

Whether scrolling through social media, thumbing through glossy magazine pages, or even in late-night chats with friends, the talk is always about making sex great. But what actually separates great sex from the merely good?

In a companion piece published earlier, we explored how chemistry, connection, and orgasms topped the list for “great sex” components. With Valentine’s Day around the corner, we thought you might enjoy learning about three more surprising but essential ingredients for great sex: sexual skills, sexual responsiveness, and sexual mindfulness.

1. Sexual Skills: More Than Just Techniques

Sure, knowing your way around your partner’s body is important. But sexual skills go beyond just technique. They include reading body language, understanding non-verbal cues, and adapting to your partner’s unique needs and desires. As one participant explained, “It’s about knowing when to lead, when to follow, and when to simply listen.” For them, great sex wasn’t just about physical acts; it was about creating an experience of mutual understanding and connection.

Yet, as with any skill, there’s a catch. When sexual prowess becomes a competition or a source of personal validation, the focus shifts from connection to ego. One man shared, “I caused a lot of first orgasms, and I’m prouder of that than anything else I’ve done.” For some, sexual prowess can become a source of personal validation, shifting the focus from mutual connection to individual ego. Great sex demands shared joy, not a race to the orgasm finish line.

2. Sexual Responsiveness: Listening Without Words

You definitely don’t want to feel like you’re invisible during a sexual encounter. Participants described bad sex as encounters where their partner was oblivious to their needs, treating them more like an accessory than an equal participant. As one woman put it, “I could have been a blow-up doll, and it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Responsiveness changes the game. It’s about tuning into your partner’s signals, both verbal and non-verbal, and showing genuine care for their pleasure—or even their lack of desire. In healthy relationships, responsiveness fosters trust and a sense of safety, allowing couples to navigate everything from mismatched libidos to periods of low sexual interest. As one woman said, “Sex with my lover is GREAT sex no matter what is added or what is remiss. He always has ‘ME’ in mind when he is thinking of his next move. No matter if it’s what can I do with this ice cube or what happens if I touch her there. There’s always tomorrow, and it’s always good, or we stop, readjust, and try something else new or something that is tried and true.”

3. Sexual Mindfulness: Being Fully Present

Imagine this: You’re completely in the moment, free from insecurities about your body or worries about how you’re “performing.” You’re not thinking about tomorrow’s to-do list or whether you left the stove on. You’re just… there. That’s sexual mindfulness, and according to our participants, it’s a hallmark of great sex. One woman shared, “When I let go of my insecurities and focused entirely on the sensations, it was like discovering a new level of intimacy.” Many participants explained how being fully present can transform a sexual encounter into a profoundly connected experience.

But mindfulness can be elusive, especially for those grappling with body image issues. One woman confessed, “The lights were on, and I just feel less insecure with them off.” For many women, societal pressures about appearance create barriers to fully enjoying the experience. However, as body confidence grows, so does the ability to relax and embrace the moment.

What Does This Mean for You?

These findings challenge us to think beyond the basics of “good sex” advice like trying new positions or spicing things up. Instead, they invite us to focus on the deeper, often overlooked aspects of connection:

• Are you actively honing your sexual skills by learning about your partner’s desires?
• Do you practice responsiveness, making sure your partner feels heard and valued in the bedroom?
• And finally, can you let go of distractions and insecurities to be fully present?

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: What Practitioners can teach Everyone about 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

It is late January 2025 and my eyes are still affixed to the websites and reels and headlines about the Los Angeles fires. A lot of my family and friends live there. I have spent the last two weeks texting people I know to see if they’re okay and following their temporary dislocation and participation in heroic relief efforts. Everyone I know is safe, but there are not many degrees of separation between me and people who’ve lost their homes. I can’t seem to stop scrolling and watching, gutted by the endless images of burned down neighborhoods but uplifted by the generosity and coordination demonstrated by first responders and communities helping those who’ve lost everything. 

I write about the social meaning of home spaces and possessions. I have also written about how disasters showcase this meaning. I have noted that when there is a disaster, we lose the opportunity to say goodbye to something we may have hoped would outlive us.

In the news media, it is not unusual to highlight the emotional toll felt from the loss of possessions in stories about home fires, sometimes accompanied by rationalization about that loss if no people or animals were hurt. In story after story this month, I heard people say “at least nobody was hurt.” In my past writing about home disasters, I posited that “to focus too much on the importance of stuff can make people seem materialistic or somehow immoral. Imagine the outcry if someone said, ‘We lost Grandma, but thank goodness her table was salvaged…’” It’s not that people are intentionally trying to avoid stigma when reflecting on the devastation of their losses; it’s that it is normal to express gratitude for lives saved even in the midst of property and possession loss. Disaster is not only personally emotional, it also brings forth the notion that particular emotions are defined as socially acceptable in certain contexts. 

For this moment, I am setting aside analysis of the immense toll of emotional and physical turmoil of losing lives or a home and all its material contents. I am also setting aside analysis of the political claims being tossed about related to the Los Angeles fires. My focus here is on the ways that news and social media outlets portray people’s relationships with their homes and their stuff – especially when lost as a result of a disaster – and what this says about families specifically and cultural values generally. Despite the devastating size and impact, the LA fires are not necessarily different from the disasters I’ve written about in the past in terms of demonstrating the social significance of homes and possessions. But there seem to be a few ways that the news coverage of the loss of homes and their contents in Los Angeles differs from other accounts from other places and times. Here I elaborate on these ways.

In the coverage of the LA fires, stories of homeowners quickly choosing which items to grab on their way out the door and images of firefighters retrieving photo albums and what they perceived to be family heirlooms – keeping them safe in a place far from a burning home or placing them gently on the sidewalk across the street from a house in flames – kept showing up on my feeds. I watched a reel showing firefighters stacking photo albums next to a grandfather clock – soot-covered but salvaged – across the street from a burning house. I read an article about a cherished ring in a safe that firefighters found and protected.

What was this about? In my research on love letter curatorial practices and my most recent study of the social meaning of vacation homes, I describe a strategy of the possessors of these objects and places: imagined future kinship nostalgia. This is a motivating factor when people save and carefully and intentionally store objects such as heirloom decor items or photos (or when they create moments that yield saved photos). People do this because these items are meant to be discovered or viewed or reminisced about in the future by those experiencing them today. Doing this preserves a family story over time, presumably unless disaster strikes. Often it may represent a moment as ideal, removed from (or sometimes as evidence of overcoming) visible hardships. The stories and images of firefighters saving seemingly cherished things reinforces the value of preserving family stories for future generations’ imaginings of the past nostalgically. That these mementos were preserved from a disastrous fire becomes part of the preservation story. But it is not that the image of firefighters saving photo albums tells a happy story, nor is it the case that the firefighters personally know the people who may want to look back fondly on past photos. It is that deciding to save these items and having the event shared in the media tells a larger cultural story: the items have been deemed worthy of preservation because they represent the family story that must also be preserved. Thank goodness they were saved. That these stories were featured as part of the ongoing news during the fires suggests family story preservation – even and perhaps especially if it is preserved in physical form – remains a strong cultural value.

The coverage of the LA fires was also unique relative to stories from other disasters in its focus on celebrities and their families who lost their homes and possessions, including those who filmed themselves as they discovered that they had lost their home (and then were interviewed afterward on television). Images and interviews of celebrities involved in donation drives and financial contributions followed as the fires lessened. Even though news accounts of disasters often include private video footage of the experience and interviews about loss from people experiencing the disaster, these stories felt decidedly different from past news accounts of fire disasters, including the one in Paradise, California in 2018.

Why? What makes the depiction of a disaster different if famous people are part of the story? Two reasons. First, celebrities are in an interesting social position – they are people who experience hardship just as anyone might, but they are also likely to be affluent. They may have multiple homes, making them far less economically precarious than many people who lost everything. As I noted in my past writing about disasters and the meaning of home possessions, “stuff matters differently depending on your access to the stuff in the first place.” The critique of celebrities not doing enough, or even not deserving sympathy, was related to their perceived status as wealthy homeowners who could afford to rebuild without much sacrifice. Second, celebrities occupy a somewhat contradictory position: they need to be relatable, but they also need to be set apart from other people. They need to be normal and have families like we do, but they also need to somehow be superhuman. They need to be real enough so that fans can see them as worthy of their dedication and support. But they need to be a little bit unreal in order to retain their status as famous. I don’t know what it’s like to have an eight million dollar mansion. Someone in that social position may as well be a fictitious character to me. But hearing about their very real loss of family mementos and the emotional trauma of seeing their neighborhood vanish? This humanizes even the most untouchable icon.

The LA fire story being told through the lens of fame aligns with the fact that Los Angeles is viewed in the cultural imaginary as a magical place, artificially removed from the hardships of real life. It is not as if Los Angeles is Disneyland, but it does get portrayed as a mystical magical place, with characters and plots and the glitz of a movie set, where dreams come true, idealized stories are told, and magical moments are part of a morning stroll to a coffee shop. But it is a fallacy to believe that an entire city – one filled with racialized income inequalities, disagreements about water policy and access, and devastating effects related to climate change – is somehow magically removed from real life. Anyone who lives there who struggles can tell you that. Anyone with a healthy dose of cynicism about what is real and what is fake can tell you that.

The fires made the magic really come crashing down. They made Los Angeles a really real place, ironically stalling the industry dedicated to creating fictional places, people, and plots. If it could happen in La La Land, it could happen anywhere. Not even magical places are removed from the possibility of devastation. They are filled with real families, homes, and possessions. And an occasional celebrity or two, who – as human beings – are part of the real families that reside there or hope to reside there again someday.

Family life is often romanticized in movies, but we also do this in our real lives (and in news stories about real lives) when we preserve mementos that may not capture the harsh realities of life’s hard moments. It will be interesting to watch the family stories from these devastating fires continue to be told through nostalgic renditions of home spaces and domestic objects. It will also be intriguing to watch the collective story of the fires be told – to see what mementos are nostalgically lifted up as cherished symbols of a city that – for the sake of the cultural imaginary – aims to retain its magic.  

Michelle Janning is Professor Sociology at Whitman College and the author of several books about how homes and domestic objects tell the story of what’s really going on in today’s families, including Investing in Enchantment: Money, Market, and the Family Vacation Home.

A record number of U.S. renters are cost burdened, paying 30 percent or more of their monthly income towards their housing costs. High housing costs prompt low-income families to make widespread cutbacks on other critical household essentials, such as food, education, and transportation. However, high rental costs also have another effect on families that is less well-documented—they make it more difficult to find a new home. When affordable housing options are few and far between, how do low-income renters relocate?

In a new paper published in the American Sociological Review, I address this question using interviews that I conducted with 69 low-income non-Hispanic white and Latina/o renters living in Los Angeles (LA). Like other high-cost cities, LA is an extremely challenging housing market for low-income families. When I began this study in 2019, LA’s median rental price for recent movers was nearly $2,200 per month. LA landlords often require tenants to earn at least three times the monthly rent, excellent credit, and up to two months’ rent as a deposit.

Many of these requirements are out of reach for low-income movers. Instead, they turn to trusted sources of support to help them during moves: their friends, family members, and coworkers. I found that low-income white and Latina/o renters alike leaned heavily on their social ties to help them lease up. Friends and family members provided information about open apartments and cosigned leases with renters with low credit scores. Renters’ social ties also gifted or loaned money or hosted movers temporarily while they bolstered their savings. For instance, Maggie, a low-income white renter, told me that her mother cosigned her lease. “If I didn’t have that,” she reflected, “I don’t know how I would have found a place.” Meanwhile, Maite, a low-income Mexican renter, borrowed money from her mother to cover the cost of the required $2,600 security deposit.

Although renters across race/ethnicity leaned on their social ties for help during moves, I found that low-income white and low-income Latina/o renters had access to different typesof resources through their social networks. These network resource differences ultimately influenced renters’ housing search outcomes.

Consider Clara, a low-income Honduran renter who was evicted by a boarding house owner after  she learned that she was pregnant. Due to her low credit score, Clara and her husband struggled to find an apartment. Her husband learned that his coworker’s brother lived in a building nearby. This workplace social tie vouched for Clara and her husband to the building manager, who allowed them to move into a studio apartment. However, the unit was in extreme disrepair. Here, Clara recalls the moment when she stepped into her new apartment for the first time:

There was an old bed, just thrown on the ground…there must have been 2,000 cigarette butts, just everywhere. There were cockroaches, there were rats, the toilet was broken, everything was green…When he opened the door and I saw, Oh my God! I felt like my world was falling apart.

Clara felt that she had no other choice but to accept the unit, in spite of its conditions. To cover the entry costs, Clara turned to another workplace social tie—her supervisor at her job as a factory line worker—who loaned her the money she needed for the deposit.

Low-income white renters had access to relatively affluent friends and family compared with low-income Latina/o renters. These connections helped them enter homes that aligned more closely with their family’s needs and preferences. For example, during Jennifer’s last move, she moved temporarily into her parents’ single-family home for several months. Her parents did not expect her to pay rent, and this support allowed her to save quickly and to be more discerning during her search. As she recalled:

We had saved up a decent amount of money…We probably looked at five to ten apartments in the area. I’d call the ads, leave a message, make an appointment, go view the place. Then, it would be like, “Thanks, don’t like it.” They’d have issues or something I didn’t like about the complex. Some of them didn’t have gated parking or amenities that I was looking for.

Jennifer’s family’s support helped her enter her first-choice apartment. Other low-income white renters told me that their ties had given them financial gifts (as opposed to loans) or cosigned their leases, like Maggie’s mother (introduced above). In contrast, most Latina/o respondents’ social ties also struggled to make ends meet, placing critical limits on the type of assistance that they could offer to their loved ones.

This support made all the difference for movers’ housing outcomes. Thanks to the help of financially secure friends and family, low-income white renters mostly avoided badly maintained apartments or crowded homes. Support from social ties also shaped how movers’ experienced the housing search process itself. For instance, Clara’s housing search was prolonged and stressful, and her move left her owing a substantial amount of money to her boss. In contrast, Jennifer’s move was relatively seamless, and living with her family without paying rent allowed her to avoid debt. “It was pretty much wham, bam, it was so perfect,” she told me, jokingly.

In a landlords’ market with few vacancies, landlords can prioritize potential tenants with high incomes, substantial savings, and excellent credit. To meet these criteria, low-income renters often turn to their social ties for assistance. However, the resources that their social ties can provide make all the difference in renters’ housing outcomes. Given the persistence of racial inequalities in social network resources, this ultimately widens inequalities between moving families.

Several policy tools may help stem the harms of unaffordable housing markets on low-income families. First, policymakers should consider limiting the use of credit and background checks. Credit checks are a relatively recent tenant screening tool that often do not capture the difficult budgeting decisions families make to pay their rent. For instance, many respondents that I spoke to carried large credit balances precisely so they could have the cash on-hand to make their rent. Second, policymakers should also consider limiting security deposits, which force movers to take on financial debt, or passing legislation that allows renters to pay deposits over an extended period. As long as landlords’ screening practices prioritize renters with financially secure social ties, rental housing searches will continue to widen inequalities among moving families.

Steven Schmidt is an NSF SBE Postdoctoral Research Fellow at the University of Southern California and an incoming assistant professor in the Department of Sociology at Boston University. He can be reached at steven.schmidt@usc.edu or on Bluesky at @stevenschmidt.bsky.social.

Demie Kurz is a Research Affiliate in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania. She is the former Co-Director of the Gender, Sexuality & Women’s Studies Program at Penn and a Co-founder of the Carework Network, an international organization of researchers, policymakers, and advocates involved in various domains of care work. Her books and articles have focused on challenges facing contemporary American families and social policies that would better support families.

AMW: Why do you believe that parenting teens and young adults is especially challenging, and how are mothers particularly affected?

DK: While parenting is one of the most important tasks of any society, popular narratives fail to reflect the challenges of raising children, teens, and young adults. Some parents, particularly mothers, who do the majority of the work of parenting, are viewed as too involved in their children’s lives, as helicopter parents micromanaging their children and teens; others are viewed as not involved enough. Often parents are blamed when their children aren’t viewed as successful. Adolescence is widely seen as the most difficult stage of parenting. Yet despite its importance, we have a limited grasp of what it actually takes to guide teens through adolescence and on to young adulthood.

AMW: What does “letting go” look like in parenting, and what challenges come with it?

DK: Based on over a hundred interviews with an economically and racially diverse group of mothers, and some fathers, I describe what mothers identify as a key challenge of parenting—what they often call “letting go.” Parents are expected to supervise the lives of their teens on an ongoing basis and ensure that they safely transition to young adulthood and on to adulthood and gain the credentials they need to succeed in an era when reaching adulthood has become more demanding. At the same time, parents must pull back and “let go,” turn over more control to their teens and young adults who must learn to take more responsibility for their lives. As they balance the tasks of maintaining control and letting go in these arenas, parents must continually make difficult decisions. Often, they have to make these decisions without much information; communication with teens becomes more challenging as they make more decisions on their own.

AMW: What broader resources do parents need to raise children, teens, and young adults successfully?

DK: Mothers’ accounts of their experiences also show how vitally important resources are to the process of parenting. Parents cannot rely solely on their individual actions to ensure that their teens progress successfully on to adulthood. They require good neighborhoods, safe schools, and funds for extracurricular activities. As the mothers I interviewed make clear, parents are continually searching for resources that will improve their children’s chances of success. Policies that provide resources for lower-income families who live in underresourced neighborhoods with underresourced schools are particularly important for reducing the stark inequality of opportunity that currently divides lower-income from higher-income families.

Alicia M. Walker is Associate Professor of Sociology at Missouri State University and the author of two previous books on infidelity. 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 and Instagram @aliciamwalkerphd