Gay and Irish: ‘We were the first male same-sex couple who fostered’

To mark the first anniversary of the marriage-equality referendum, Charlie Bird asks gay people, and their relatives, how Ireland has changed for them.


To mark the first anniversary of the marriage-equality referendum, Charlie Bird asks gay people, and their relatives, how Ireland has changed for them. Among them are Garry Hynes, Bill Hughes, Erney Breytenbach, Brandon Martin, Vivian Cummins, Enda Morgan, Rachel Morgan and Marion Doherty.

Erney Breytenbach: 'We were the first male same-sex couple who fostered'

We talked about children. We both like children. I said to Vivian that I would like to have my own child but it’s too complicated.

Then one day he came home with the local newspaper, and he showed me an advertisement from the HSE. They were organising an information meeting for potential foster carers. Vivian said, “Why don’t you phone them and see if we can come to this meeting?”

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So I phoned the HSE and said, “I am in a same-sex relationship with my partner, and we have seen the advertisement about fostering. Can we come to this information meeting?”

The lady on the other end of the line said, “Oh, I am not sure. I will find out, and I’ll come back to you.” She rang back within 15 minutes and said, “As far as I could establish, as a same-sex couple you are welcome to come”

– almost like, “but I would like to come and meet you, too.” You know, you get that, like this is quite something.

So we went to the meeting. There were a fair number of middle-aged straight couples. The HSE talked in general about fostering. And at the end of the meeting they said should couples be interested in fostering, then put your personal details down and they would contact us. That is how the whole process started.

As far as we know we were the first male same-sex couple who started fostering through the HSE in Ireland.

You do everything that a parent should do, everything that the child needs. I have stood in rain, hail, wind and snow on the sideline of the rugby field, watching Brandon play on a Saturday morning and swearing – “Why the hell do I do this when I could be warm in bed?”

But I do it for him, because I love him. You just do these things. And of course you shout and rant at him from the sideline. “Run, run, run. Get the ball. Tackle him!”

Through winning, losing, laughter, tears, sadness and joy, you are so proud of him, because he is my boy, and I love him unconditionally.

Vivian Cummins: 'I thought it would be difficult, a same-sex couple in a rural area'

I had just moved back to Ireland, having worked in the UK for about six years, and one Saturday evening I was out in Dublin. Erney was visiting from Norway, where he was based as a South African diplomat. And we met.

Initially I wasn’t interested in a long-distance relationship. I had just come back to Dublin, and I kind of thought, I want to settle and meet a nice Irish man: this is just too messy and complicated. It was also pretty expensive to get to Norway. So nothing happened for about six months.

And then it was Erney’s 40th birthday. We have very different versions of what happened. He said I invited myself. My view is that I was invited. But, anyway, I ended up at the party, and it seemed to rekindle things.

I had no qualms about settling down as a couple in Dublin. But part of the terms of Erney moving to Ireland was that we would live in a rural area. He’d had enough of city living and wanted open, quiet space with vistas of water, trees and animals.

I thought it was going to be difficult, a same-sex couple in a small rural area. But I was completely wrong. The neighbours couldn’t have been better. They were very supportive.

Some local gay guys did comment on the fact that we didn’t pretend to be anything other than what we were. And people respect that. You didn’t try to pull the wool over their eyes and pretend you are not gay. This was in 2001.

Fostering Brandon was a kind of a spur-of-the-moment [decision] . They say when fostering you are giving, giving, giving, whereas I think we just got, got, got out of the whole process. It’s been an amazing experience.

I would say that when we first fostered, 10 years ago, there probably were people who said, “What’s this about?” But, based on what they have seen, I think they’d now say, “My God, they are doing a better job than most parents,” or, “Look at that kid: he’s turned out pretty well.” People are a bit more familiar and comfortable with the idea, and that’s the sort of thing that got the referendum across the line.

I never thought the referendum was going to be won until about a week beforehand. We laugh about that ourselves, because I am a very glass-half-empty person and Erney is very glass-half-full. I used up a lot of unnecessary energy as a result. During the campaign I didn’t sleep very well. I was waking up at 5.30am or 6am, which isn’t typical. I was so anxious about the result. It was so important.

We were married in South Africa, but I would never say to people that I was married. So if I met somebody in Ireland for the first time and they asked me, “Are you married?” I would never say yes. Because they would then ask, “What does your wife work at?” It’s a bit like coming out. It’s hard to explain.

Brandon Martin: 'They saved my life. They provided for me when I needed it'

When I was younger I was put into foster care. I ended up with Vivian and Erney. My birth mother approved. I liked them.

It is different, like having two dads but then, at the same time, having two mams. It was hard to get used to at first. But now there’s nothing different.

When I’m with my mates I just say, “They’re my foster parents.”

I know that some people talked behind my back. But it doesn’t bother me. They have never been exposed to this. They have never come across a guy who’s been fostered by a same-sex couple. It doesn’t affect me.

Sometimes people ask me, “What’s it like?” or “Is it different?” or “What’s it like not having a mother?” I just answer the questions.

The first time I told people I got some hassle. Someone said, “Oh, that means you’re going to end up gay as well.” But I stood my ground. I replied, “That’s uncalled for. That’s stupid. What’s the point in saying that?”

Vivian and Erney come to my rugby matches, and to athletics, to support me. They bring me to all my training sessions. They are there for me.

I don’t think people pay attention to it, really. I don’t think they go, “Oh, they’re gay” or “That’s different.” They probably just glance and say, “Oh, two men”.

I have great respect for what they did in fostering me. They saved my life in a way. They provided for me when I needed it, and they gave me everything they could. I was in a dangerous position when I was younger. It was a bad place.

It’s 10 years now. I have been in care with a gay couple longer than I was with my actual mother. So this is like a normal thing to me. I just wake up, and they are there. So it’s no different to me now.

It would be tough at this stage to imagine life without them. I find “love” a strong word. It’s just strong. I do love them and I don’t. It’s different. I would say I do, yeah, because they are like family now. Not like blood, but by heart, and they are family now.