We knew early on, when our son Jude arrived, that life in our house would look different from many other families. As a pair of women raising a boy, we navigate a world where family structure expectations and sports culture intersect constantly. That difference is part of our daily life: routines, conversations and community activities reflect our identity, and we try to turn those differences into opportunities for learning. We also bring a sense of humor to parenting — yes, one of us jokes about being eccentric — but we take seriously the question of how to teach him about the wider world of athletics, including that men play sports too.
From the earliest months, our home environment has been saturated with women’s sports. Our local park hosts a weekly ritual where friends gather for lesbian kickball, our living room often streams games muted while he watches bodies move across a screen, and our neighborhood conversations revolve around female athletes we admire. That context is a strength: it gives Jude visible role models and a community that celebrates athleticism. Still, we also want him to understand the full span of sports culture — the existence of male athletes, the history of leagues, and the economic dynamics that have shaped opportunities for women and men.
Let him learn by playing
One of the simplest ways we introduce the idea that men play sports is to let Jude be an athlete himself. We have installed a collection of basketball hoops around the property — a small hoop dangling in a bathtub play area, a sturdier one at the driveway, and another mounted on the backyard play structure — so that the default message is clear: ball play is for him, too. When children take part in movement and games, abstract ideas become concrete. The fact that Jude has already mastered the word ball and reaches instinctively for a bouncing object tells us that embodied experience is a powerful teacher; seeing him run, throw and giggle while playing makes conversations about other people who play sports feel natural and grounded in his own life.
Nonverbal communication matters
Because Jude is still primarily communicating through gestures, laughter and single words, we pay close attention to nonverbal cues. He uses the ASL sign for milk before he says the word, and he shares delight in the rhythm of play much more than any spoken explanation. That means our early lessons about sports are sensory and social: trips to the park, watching a live game in short bursts, and participating in neighborhood matches are more effective than lectures. Using play-based learning helps him connect the concept of athletes to bodies moving, teamwork and joy rather than to adult anxieties about rankings or gossip.
Teach the broader story
As he grows, we intend to layer in context about the institutions around sport. Part of that is history: for instance, we point out that the men’s basketball association traces its roots back to 1949 and has a long timeline that sits alongside the much shorter organized histories of many women’s leagues. We also plan to explain pay inequality in sports — how female athletes have fought to receive fair compensation — and to encourage him to see those struggles as part of a larger conversation about economic fairness. Presenting that history helps Jude develop a sense of justice and gives him language for why women’s sports are celebrated in our circles.
Keep adult fandom separate
It is worth remembering that adult fandom often includes details kids don’t need: romance rumors, contract intrigue and off-field scandals are entertaining to grown-ups but irrelevant to a toddler learning to dribble. We try to avoid turning every sports moment into a soap opera. When Jude is older and curious about storylines, those conversations can happen in age-appropriate ways. For now, focusing on teamwork, skill and respect for all athletes — whether women or men — keeps sports a healthy, joyful part of his upbringing and prevents premature exposure to complex adult dynamics that may confuse more than clarify.
Timing, boundaries and the option to wait
There is no single right moment to explain everything. Some topics — such as what it means to be donor conceived — deserve careful timing and clear language, and we plan to wait until Jude can grasp the concepts before mentioning particulars like the donor being 6’7″ or why we set up so many hoops. Other lessons, like how men and women both play sports or why athletes sometimes earn different pay, can be introduced incrementally. And it is also acceptable to let some discoveries happen organically: he might notice men on TV or at a bar, or spot people playing golf, and ask a question then. Parenting in this area is a mix of intentional teaching and letting curiosity lead.
Ultimately, our aim is to raise a son who sees athletes as people, understands the history and inequalities that shape sports, and feels comfortable playing and cheering regardless of gender. By combining play-based exposure, contextual education and patient timing, we hope Jude grows up with a broad, empathetic view of athletics — one that honors the strong presence of women’s sports in his early life while also welcoming the fact that men play sports too.