Skip to content
Link copied to clipboard
Link copied to clipboard

Making marriage, family a priority

For Shanay, too, the tearful, smiling faces of family and friends made her feel loved, validated and supported. But it was Christopher’s response that made the deepest impression.

Shanay (left) and Rita with Christopher
Shanay (left) and Rita with ChristopherRead moreAmanda Swiger Photography

THE PARENTS: Shanay Rowe, 38, and Marrita (Rita) Rowe, 35, of Upper Darby

THE CHILD: Christopher, 12

FORMED A BLENDED FAMILY: July 2, 2022

AN INDELIBLE MOMENT: On a recent night, dinner segued into a spontaneous party, all three of them pulling up YouTube and TikTok videos and rocked the moves of the wu-tang and the jerk — ”our own little family dance party,” Shanay says.

Within the first five minutes of their first date — a picnic at the Curtis Arboretum, because it was fall of the first pandemic year — Shanay brushed a bit of flotsam off Rita’s eyelash. It was a sticky-hot October day, but they didn’t want the date to end, so they sought refuge in a nearby Barnes & Noble.

They had their first kiss in the aisle, amid the books.

“It felt very natural, very familiar; it didn’t feel like someone I was hanging out with for the first time,” Shanay says. She had recently written a nonfiction book about gender expression and sexuality, and Rita was eager to talk about that along with other titles both of them had read and loved.

“She loved art, books, reading, studying,” Rita remembers. By Thanksgiving, when she found herself eagerly anticipating spending the holiday together, she knew: “This is my person; this is who I want to start building traditions with.”

There was just one momentary roadblock: Rita had an unspoken rule that she didn’t seriously date people with children. Shanay had a 10-year-old son and talked about him effusively on that first date.

“I was like: Girl, you know I have a kid. I like him, he’s pretty cool, I spend a lot of time with him.” The more Shanay described Christopher — a baseball player, an avid Eagles fan, a warm and adventurous kid — the more Rita wanted to meet him.

“I knew the life I lived as a single, childless woman allowed me to travel and offered me a lot of spontaneity,” she says. “But prior to me settling down with Shanay, I’d put down firmer roots and was looking for someone who shared those same priorities.”

Shanay was technically a single parent, but likes to joke that she shares custody with “an amazing village” that includes Christopher’s biological father (a longtime friend), her mother, her brother, and her grandmother.

She always knew she wanted to be a mother, but in her mid-20s, years before marriage equality became nationwide law, “the whole idea of settling down, trying to conceive, and being a queer woman didn’t even seem like an option.” Although Christopher switched weekly from Shanay’s house to his father’s, “I was not creating family with another person.”

Gradually, Rita began to play a more significant role: She worked remotely from Shanay’s house so she could spend one-on-one time with Christopher during his days of virtual school. “It was a time to see him in his element, and him getting to see me in mine. We’d have breakfast together and lunch together; we’d talk about our favorite television shows.”

Christopher talked about Rita as “part of the family” and made her cards that said, “Best Bonus Mom Ever.” In April 2021, she moved in permanently — a bittersweet transition because it meant leaving a home in West Oak Lane that she’d inherited from her grandparents.

Meanwhile, Shanay had proposed, spontaneously proffering a ring one night while the two were watching Christmas movies; she’d planned to save the proposal until February 2021 but couldn’t wait. Later, in July, she engineered a more elaborate proposal, a catered picnic in Franklin Square on a weekend when Rita’s family was visiting.

Getting married mattered to both of them. “I run into many younger queer folks who still don’t necessarily know older queer people who are married — and when we talk about queer Black folks who are married, that number shrinks,” Shanay says. “It was important to me to be a bit of a living example for those who are coming up behind us.”

Rita says she never viewed herself as “other” because of her sexual orientation. “I always knew one day I’d be married; I just couldn’t parse out how that was going to happen.”

It did happen, this summer, at The German Society of Pennsylvania, an archival library that felt like the ideal setting. Eighty-five friends and family members joined them for a reception in the historic ballroom.

Christopher was front and center: dressed in a suit and a pair of shined Oxfords, walking his grandmother down the aisle, standing between Shanay and Rita as the pastor blessed them as a family.

Shanay has always been frank with Chris about homophobia, “the harsh reality that everyone isn’t always going to be super-friendly about the fact that he has two mothers. It meant a lot to him, as a kid, to know he had that family unit, also.”

Rita cherishes the moment they were presented as “Mrs. and Mrs. Rowe” — she’d taken her wife’s last name because Shanay had been the one to propose — and the sight of a roomful of people who were there to support their union.

“It solidified: Not only am I taking this journey with my partner and family, but there’s a whole community around us that wants us to succeed. Being married: I think of it as a responsibility and an adventure. I have to take care of this woman and love this woman; if I don’t have the tools, one of the people in that room will have them.”

For Shanay, too, the tearful, smiling faces of family and friends made her feel loved, validated, and supported. But it was Christopher’s response that made the deepest impression.

“Rita danced with her father; I did my dance with Chris,” Shanay recalls. “It was the sweetest thing. He took my hand, got very close and said, ‘I don’t know what to do.’ I put his hand around my waist and said, ‘You’re going to follow me.’ We danced to ‘If I Could’ by Regina Belle, a tearjerker. I said, ‘Do you need to cry? It’s OK; you can cry.’ He leaned on me and said, ‘I’m so happy for you.’ That was a highlight of a moment. It made me feel like I had made the right decision.”