Albania
Estonia
Lithuania
San Marino
Andorra
Finland
Luxembourg
Serbia
Armenia
France
Macedonia
Slovakia
Austria
Georgia
Malta
Slovenia
Azerbaijan
Germany
Moldova
Spain
Belarus
Greece
Monaco
Sweden
Belgium
Hungary
Montenegro
Switzerland
Bosnia and Herzegovina
Iceland
The Netherlands
Turkey
Bulgaria
Ireland
Norway
Ukraine
Croatia
Italy
Poland
UK
Cyprus
Kosovo
Portugal
Vatican City (Holy See)
The Czech Republic
Latvia
Romania
Denmark
Liechtenstein
Russia
Estimating the portion of the US population that can be identified as elders of European descent is equally challenging. Our most comprehensive accounting of persons in the USA comes from the US Census Bureau. Estimates from the decennial census (last completed in 2010) provide us with a fairly accurate enumeration of the number of people living in the country at the time of data collection, yet European descent is not captured as a distinct category in the census data collection process. Instead, much like other less comprehensive accountings of the population, individuals of European descent are included in the broader category labeled “White, non-Hispanic.” This group consists not only of individuals of European descent , but also individuals who originate from either North Africa or the Middle East. The 2010 Census estimates that there were approximately 40 million White, non-Hispanic persons who were 65 and older at that time (roughly 13 % of the total population). Of that number, around 5.5 million were 85 or older. While these estimates can be viewed as fairly accurate, the next step of attempting to estimate the number of these individuals who are LGBT elders of European descent is far more challenging and precludes creating any particularly precise parameter estimates of this group. In the face of these limitations, we must draw on our best available data as a basis for estimating this population. Based on the initial consistently cited estimates established by the Kinsey Institute (Kinsey et al. 1947) of 10 % and more recent studies which place the percentage of LGBT persons somewhere around 3.5 % of the population (Gates and Newport 2013), we can assess the current number of LGBT elders (65 and older) of European descent living in the USA to be somewhere between 1.1 and 3.4 million. Based on broader demographers’ estimates for all persons in the USA, with the aging of the Baby Boomer cohort (those born between 1946 and 1964), by 2030, we can expect this number to double (Gates and Cooke 2011).
Historically, the US LGBT population has been treated as some monolithic entity that is best represented by the face of Americans of European descent. That notion has since been challenged both from within the LGBT community and by those outside the community. Today, the LGBT elder population of European descent is understood as one part of a very complex and diverse population, rather than being viewed as the gold standard for understanding all LGBT persons. While this issue is not unique to research involving sexual and gender minorities, the exposure of the color blindness of LGBT research was an important key to the development of a broader, more culturally competent approach to research focused on the lives of sexual and gender minorities (Donahue and McDonald 2005; Meezan and Martin 2009). Whereas the body of work focusing on ethnically and racially diverse samples of LGBT elders remains limited, new scholarship appears on a regular basis. We are beginning to better understand the unique impact (or at least the reality of its existence) of ethnicity and race on the lives of lesbians, gay men, bisexual men and women, and transgendered persons (Herek et al. 2010). Yet, like so many debates on intersectionality and its impact on well-being, we are challenged to find ways to avoid trading one myopic approach to scholarship and practice for another. For instance, missing in much of the extant literature is any recognition that being poor and lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender is different than being an L, G, B, or T person who is economically and/or socially defined as working class, middle class, or upper class. As a group of individuals of European descent may be more likely to inhabit particular socioeconomic strata in some geographical locations, economic differences impact individuals from all races and ethnicities. Thus, in many ways, we are still trying to understand the needs and experiences of poor and working-class LGBT persons of European descent. Similarly, we know relatively little about the lives of LGBT elders who live largely hidden in rural areas and small towns and cities throughout the country (Jackson et al. 2008; Otis 2009; Willging et al. 2006). See Chap. 25 for further discussion of LGBT elders in rural areas.
Cultural and Ethnic Ambiguity
Understanding what constitutes an ethnic group is an important first step in considering the challenges that are faced by elders of European descent. Ethnicity has both geographical and cultural relevance. First, ethnic groups are linked together by a common origin—no matter where one may be living today, his or her Scottish (or Irish, or Russian, or Italian, or Slovakian) ancestry offers an historic link to the past and a personal (or virtual) connection to others with whom he or she shares a common lineage. Beyond a simple geographical place on a globe, one’s ethnicity can be understood in terms of the many unique cultural norms, values, beliefs, and traditions that define one’s heritage as distinct from some other outwardly similar, yet unique group. Some of these cultural realities have been adopted and co-opted in myriad ways as part of US culture, while others may only endure through purposive effort on the part of group members. For instance, many of us may have food as our only insight into other ethnic groups. In larger cities, evidence of the importance of those roots is found in the contemporary presence of places like Little Italy, Chinatown, and other purposively created and sustained subcultures and ethnically homogeneous neighborhoods within the larger community. Within these areas, numerous restaurants and businesses exist that retain and celebrate the culture of origin of the inhabitants. Outside these communities and across the country, “Americanized” versions are marketed to others (often by corporations which have no connection to the represented culture), thus exposing others to the food and culture of distant places like France, Greece, Italy, or Spain. For the most part, we know little else about what makes these places unique…what makes them more than just European countries. Yet, for many who retain close connections to their heritage, culturally bound norms related to things like gender roles, sexual behavior, and religious beliefs may still have a significant impact on their personal identity.
Depending on a variety of factors, most people we encounter throughout the day to day of our lives will have little if any awareness of our ancestry. If we immigrated as a child or later in life, we might present with a slight (or pronounced) accent that leads people to wonder (or readily identify) our country of origin, but if we are US born and/or raised, the original foundation of our heritage may remain invisible to others. In research and practice, the diverse cultural backgrounds of individuals of European descent are largely ignored in favor of focusing on presumed commonalities and similarities associated with race—more specifically, white race (McDermott and Samson 2005). While it can be argued that the response of others may be dominated by assumptions that are based on the color of one’s skin, this reality speaks to only one piece of what influences our life experiences and personal identities. The relevance of these cultural factors may become increasingly important as one ages and moves into a developmental stage in life where reflection on the past may be an important and valuable part of the aging process (Erikson 1982).
Historically, American culture has often been defined by a presumed universality of the meaning of being of European descent. When a critical lens was first placed on the practice of assuming that White, Anglo-Saxon people could effectively serve as informative windows into the lives of all Americans, the censure immediately focused on issues of race and ethnicity. Distinctions in race currently identified by the US Census include White (Caucasian), Black or African American, Asian, American Indian or Alaskan Native, and Native Hawaiian or Pacific Islander,5 while ethnicity largely focuses on distinguishing between Hispanic or Latino or non-Hispanic or Latino (U.S. Census Bureau 2010). These distinctions offer no meaningful mechanism for examining potential similarities and differences between white persons of European descent and those who are not of European descent.
As various aspects of the lives of LGBT elders of European descent are considered in this chapter, it is worth noting that within Europe, the treatment of LGBT persons has been inconsistent across the continent. For instance, an LGBT person who is 85 years of age or older in 2014 would have been a teenager or young adult during the Holocaust. For older LGBT persons with German and/or Austrian heritage, the implications of Nazi Germany’s treatment of homosexuals (specifically gay men) have etched a chilling image of the cost of being a sexual minority (or any minority) in a society highly invested in maintaining the power of a dominant group (Grau and Shoppmann 2013). Perhaps even more compelling, however, was the reality that Allied troops’ liberation of those interned in concentration camps and prisons throughout Germany did not necessarily include imprisoned homosexuals, many of whom were required to complete their sentences before being released. Similarly, while the majority of laws created to validate Hitler’s treatment of Jews and others were immediately repealed by the Allied Military Government of Germany, Paragraph 175 that prohibited homosexuality stayed on the books until 1969. This legacy speaks to the persistence of anti-LGBT sentiment in Europe at that time.
Research Box 9.1: Differences in Treatment of Sexual Minorities in European Countries
European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights (2014). European Union lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender survey: Main results. Author.
Objective: In 2010, the European Parliament called on the European Union to conduct a survey to examine the experiences of sexual minorities in European Member States. Specifically, the study sought to assess the prevalence of discrimination and victimization experienced by lesbians, gay men, and transgender persons.
Method: Between April 2012 and July 2012, the European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights launched an online survey to collect data from LGBT persons living in all European Member States and Croatia. The study collected data from 93,079 participants (lesbians = 16 %, gay men = 62 %, bisexual women = 7 %, bisexual men = 8 %, and transgender = 7 %). Approximately 5 % (n = 4794) of the sample was of age 55 or older.
Results: Three key findings from the study raise potential concerns. First, 47 % of the participants indicated that they had been discriminated against or harassed due to their sexual minority status. Additionally, the majority of the respondents (59 %) had been either threatened or attacked due to their perceived LGBT identity. Despite these experiences, survey respondents indicated that they rarely reported these experiences because they felt authorities would be unlikely to take any action.
Questions:
1.
How might data from this study provide insight into the lives of older LGBT persons of European descent who have recently moved to the USA?
2.
What does the discrepancy between the frequency of experiences of victimization and discrimination versus the frequency of reporting such events suggest about the social context in which LGBT persons live in European countries?
3.
How do you think these findings might compare to data from the USA?
Finally, it is important to keep in mind that individuals of European descent may have diverse backgrounds that involve multiple European heritages. Understanding the concept of ethnic ambiguity may offer us some insight into the potential complexity of such a diverse heritage. Ethnic ambiguity refers to one possessing a mixture of ethnicity which makes it difficult for others to readily identify the person’s ethnicity. As the population becomes increasingly integrated, more and more people have ethnicities that are not only ambiguous to the observer, but may also be difficult for the individual to integrate as well.
With the largest immigrant populations in the USA originating from Ireland, England, Scotland, and Germany, many of whom settled in common areas and subsequently married immigrants from other European countries, today’s US population of European descent may have limited knowledge of or connection to their European heritage. Among early waves of immigrants, particularly from Western Europe, there was considerable encouragement to assimilate into a new identity as an American, thus shedding any allegiance to their European roots. In the years that followed, changes in emphasis on ethnicity would lead many immigrants to actively work to acknowledge and retain their ancestral heritage (Gelfand 2003). The challenge of integrating this heritage into their identities, when being viewed as part of a monolithic group labeled “White, non-Hispanic,” has important implications for understanding how LGBT elders of European descent may view themselves and the challenges they may encounter trying to create an integrated identity that includes ethnic heritage.
Coming Out and Disclosure
Across the life course, the role of disclosure of one’s status as a sexual minority retains some common threads as well as presenting some unique challenges. Regardless of one’s age, coming out and the process of disclosure to others are experiences that can elicit a multiplicity of feelings, from excitement to fear—and sometimes these seemingly divergent responses across the emotional spectrum can occur concurrently (Cohen and Savin-Williams 1996). In adolescence, the process of coming out as an LGBT person is often viewed as a logical part of the developmental process that occurs as young people become aware of themselves as sexual beings and experience attractions to others (Markus and Nurius 1986). While that in no way eliminates the many concerns that are felt by the LGBT adolescent, for those to whom the youth discloses her/his sexual identity, identity development offers a seemingly natural point from which to develop a response—either positive or negative. Young people are expected to be involved in an evolving process of self-discovery and reflection. They are exposed to new ideas and are often (although usually not in terms of sexuality) encouraged to try on different ways of being in an effort to find out just who they are and who they are not. In terms of sexuality, this generally takes the form of either a reactionary response or an assumption that “this is just a phase,” so there is no need to be concerned. Parents, siblings, friends, and others often assume that the self-identification as an LGBT person is a temporary stop on the way to a permanent identity as a heterosexual person. Regardless of the outcome of this process of identity development, it has been well documented that post-Stonewall generations have wrestled with the decision to disclose/not disclose in a very different environment than their predecessors. As a result, studies consistently show that individuals are identifying as sexual minorities at much younger ages and are more likely to be out to a substantial number of their family members, friends, and peers compared to their LGBT elders (Floyd and Bakeman 2006).
Research involving older LGBT persons often paints a very different picture. For instance, Grov and colleagues found that many of the participants in their study reported that they had not experienced same-sex attraction until well into adulthood or that they opted not to act on such attractions and chose a traditional path of opposite-sex marriage and children (Grov et al. 2006). Understanding the historical and social context in which these experiences unfolded is essential to understanding how older LGBT persons experience their sexual minority status today. As a point of reference, a 65-year-old in 2014 was 13-year-old in 1962—he or she experienced his or her adolescence in the 1960s. Thus, even the youngest of our older citizens experienced adolescence prior to the 1969 Stonewall Riots and came of age while homosexuality was still identified as a mental health disorder by the American Psychiatric Association (Blank et al. 2009; Floyd and Bakeman 2006). On a broader spectrum, today’s LGBT elderly had front row seats either directly or via television and other media to the unrest and social change associated with the Civil Rights Movement, the Women’s Rights Movement, and protests of the Vietnam War. LGBT Baby Boomers were in their thirties during the most volatile period of the AIDS crisis, a reality that means many elder gay men may have experienced the loss of partners and friends during that time. For those living in urban areas like San Francisco, New York City, Los Angeles, and Atlanta, those losses may have been numerous (Rosenfeld et al. 2012).
During this same time period, the social context surrounding sexual minorities living in European countries was quite diverse. While many European countries had never had laws that criminalized same-sex relationships, others were often quite punitive (ILGA-Europe 2014). The diversity of responses across the continent underscores many of the reasons European immigrants to the USA may hold very divergent views about their own sexuality. The recent controversy surrounding the 2014 Olympics which were held in Russia remind us that this diversity of views remains. Despite the fact that 24 European countries now recognize some form of same-sex unions, with 11 of these countries having legalized same-sex marriage, in June 2013, Russia passed a new law banning “propaganda of nontraditional sexual relations” (Herszenhorn 2013).
In 1999 Rosenfeld, a sociologist, published one of the first studies which attempted to capture the “interplay between identity, generations, and social change.” The qualitative study involving 37 lesbians and gay men over the age of 65 demonstrated the importance of considering not only the timing of coming out but also the cultural and historical context in which it takes place. We know that in the midst of all of the chaos of the 1960s, there were many individuals leading secretly “out” lives within their communities and others who traveled to large urban areas for the occasional opportunity to be around other LGBT persons. Given that LGBT persons of age 65 and over grew up in the pre-Stonewall era, coming out may have been impacted by fear, practical concerns (e.g., loss of job, housing, family support), views on the appropriateness of talking about sexuality, or even the fact that they simply had never considered the possibility they might be lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender (Hunter 2007; Jensen 2013; Johnston and Jenkins 2003).
Does coming out matter? For those who either choose not to come out or feel unable to do so, life can often be stressful and fraught with ongoing concerns about exposure (Hunter 2007). As we age, these concerns may move from fear of losing one’s job (see Chap. 28) to increasing concerns about experiencing discrimination and victimization in healthcare settings and/or senior housing (Johnson et al. 2005) (see Chap. 21). This pervasive fear of being out has been noted in a number of recent studies, with many elder LGBT persons indicating that they believe it is unsafe to be out in long-term healthcare settings (IOM 2011). A survey of service providers in those healthcare settings affirmed these fears (Johnson et al. 2005; National Senior Citizens Law Center et al. 2010). These concerns can also serve to increase the likelihood of isolation that may often accompany aging. For persons who came to acknowledge their same-sex attractions later in life (after children are grown, spouses die, retirement, etc.), the risk of experiencing isolation is even greater as long-term support systems may disappear (Brennan-Ing et al. 2014; De Vries and Hoctel 2007; Fitzgerald 2013; Kuyper and Fokkema 2010).
A number of studies have identified higher rates of mood and anxiety disorders (IOM 2011; Shippy et al. 2004), alcohol and drug use, and suicidal thoughts and attempts among LGBT persons compared to heterosexuals (D’Augelli and Grossman 2001; King et al. 2008). Juster and colleagues found the role of disclosure to be an important contributing factor to the existence of these disparities (Juster et al. 2013). Their study compared a gender-mixed sample of LGB people with a sample of heterosexuals (49 % women) to see whether there were differences in levels of psychiatric disorders, levels of stress hormones, and physiological dysregulation (allostatic load). Although the study did not involve LGBT elders, its findings have important implications for aging LGBT persons. Specifically, the study found that individuals who had completely disclosed their sexual orientation experienced lower levels of anxiety and depressive symptoms compared to LGB persons who had not fully disclosed.
Notably, other studies have supported a cohort effect related to the impact of disclosure on psychological well-being (Hunter 2007). These studies found that older cohorts of LGBT persons who indicated that they were not out to their healthcare and service providers did not necessarily display higher levels of psychological distress. A number of scholars have suggested that this is a result of the development of crisis competence, or a level of resilience, that has evolved as a result of years of navigating a homophobic environment (IOM 2011). As a result, LGBT persons develop important coping skills that serve as protective factors in daily life. While these findings are certainly a positive sign for LGBT elders who are not out, the studies are based on samples that may have experienced fairly limited needs in terms of service access. As LGBT elders have more reasons to draw upon community, social service, and healthcare systems, it is unclear how attempting to remain invisible as a sexual minority may impact their well-being and successful aging process.
Against this backdrop, it is important to remember that while the research on coming out has documented a number of challenges for those who are not out and benefits for those who are, the bulk of this research is based on samples that are not representative of the spectrum of LGBT persons. In general, much of what we understand about coming out is based on middle-class, college-educated LGBT persons in their twenties and thirties. As a result, our understanding of the implications of a variety of factors, including cohort effects related to being out/not out, age and the timing of the decision to be out/not out, and potential cultural differences in the primacy and/or necessity to be out, is largely unexplored.
Still to be considered is the question of whether being out is an essential part of successful aging and well-being for all LGBT persons (McGarrity and Huebner 2013; Purdie-Vaughns and Eibach 2008). As previously noted, studies that account for cohort and/or cultural differences related to coming out are limited. Much of the work that has been done in the area starts from an assumption that not being out is universally problematic; thus, the subsequent inquiry is framed accordingly. The combination of this framing and the myriad of issues and barriers that challenge efforts to do population-based research contributes to the dearth of knowledge about distinct age cohorts that represent the spectrum of unique racial, ethnic, and cultural groups. Challenged by the same difficulties in terms of gaining access to representative samples, research in European countries offers little additional insight.
Of the few studies that might shed light on potential differences, some points of divergence have surfaced. For instance, in a probabilistic sample of sexual minority men (n = 372, aged 50–85 years), Rawls (2004) found that among men 60 years of age and older, level of disclosure of sexual minority status had no meaningful impact on reported levels of depression and distress. Fifteen years earlier, Adelman’s (1990) study of older lesbians and gay men (born prior to 1930) living in the San Francisco area reported similar findings. This suggests that for elderly people who came of age in the 1940s and 1950s when sexuality was not a topic of public discussion, openness about one’s sexual orientation may be no more relevant than openness about any individual’s sexual behavior. In fact, the notion that such things are important to share publicly may be a greater source of discomfort than the experience of being a sexual minority in a heterosexist environment.
While those studies offer a modicum of insight into general age cohort differences that may exist, studies addressing cultural differences in views on coming out/being out among LGBT persons of European descent now living the USA are nonexistent. For those who were born and spent a significant part of their formative years there, research characterizing the lives of sexual minorities in various European countries does exist, albeit based on very limited samples. Since 1996, the International Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Intersex Association Europe (ILGA-Europe) has been conducting studies examining issues related to social justice, inequality, and well-being associated with being a sexual minority in Europe (ILGA-Europe 2014). Additionally, the Council of Europe and the European Union collect annual data on a variety of human rights and equality issues, including numerous factors related to the treatment and protection of sexual minorities. Collectively, this information makes clear the importance of considering the specific country of origin when seeking to understand the needs and concerns of LGBT persons of European descent. As a contrasting case-in-point, consider the experiences of LGBT elders in Sweden, Georgia, and Azerbaijan. In 2014, Europe’s first LGBT retirement home opened in Stockholm, Sweden—a country that legalized same-sex behavior in 1944. Just seven years prior, separate ILGA-Europe studies in Georgia (Quinn 2007) and Azerbaijan (Van der Veur 2007) found that the vast majority of sexual minorities remained closeted for fear of discrimination and/or victimization.6 Most of the individuals who participated in the qualitative studies in Georgia and Azerbaijan were out to very few family members, and many indicated that disclosures were often accompanied by some form of hostility, violence, and/or rejection. With such divergent responses to homosexuality7 being experienced by sexual minorities living in different European countries, it is understandable that individuals of European descent living in the USA may have very divergent views of both the necessity and the potential costs and benefits of being out.
Social and instrumental support. Although isolation and absence of social support can impact people’s lives at any age, social and instrumental support can be particularly important for LGBT elders. LGBT elders tend to rely more heavily on families of choice , while heterosexual elders’ support systems are more likely to be made up of one or more persons who are biologically or legally related. While studies indicate that many LGBT elders are satisfied with the level of support they receive from their chosen families, individuals in these constructed families of choice tend to be of similar ages and thus have/will have their own needs for support and caregiving services as they age. Over time, this leaves many LGBT elders alone and isolated as members of their support system become infirmed and subsequently die. This reality along with the fact that LGBT elders often live alone contributes to many LGBT elders expressing a fear of dying alone (Emlet 2006). Being an LGBT elder living with HIV/AIDS only serves to exacerbate these concerns (Brennan-Ing et al. 2014; McFarland and Sanders 2003; Poindexter and Shippy 2008).
LGBT Elders and Being a Double Minority
Being young, White, and heterosexual has its privileges. While we may be uncomfortable acknowledging that such privilege still persists in the twenty-first century, many are also silently resistant to voluntarily relinquishing the benefits that come from inhabiting majority status (Richmond and Guindon 2013). As an LGBT elder of European descent , that place of privilege is challenged on at least two fronts (perhaps more if you are a lesbian or bisexual woman or if you identify as transgender). Most of today’s elderly population came of age in a time when open hostility toward sexual minorities was the norm, and discrimination and victimization was not uncommon (Hunter 2007). For many LGBT elders of European descent, this environment made staying closeted not only an option, but often a necessity. As LGBT elders age, however, the capacity to hide one’s sexuality may be increasingly difficult, thus leading some to experience a double-dose of disenfranchised minority status for the first time in their lives—being elderly and identifying as a sexual minority. For lesbians, bisexual men and women, and transgender persons, this is compounded by either gender or being a sexual minority within a sexual minority.
Related posts:
African-American and Black LGBT Elders
The Intersection of Identities of LGBT Elders: Race, Age, Sexuality, and Care Network
Understanding Transgender Elders
End-of-Life Issues for LGBT Elders
Disabilities and Chronic Illness Among LGBT Elders: Responses of Medicine, Public Health, Rehabilitation, and Social Work
LGBT Elders in Nursing Homes, Long-Term Care Facilities, and Residential Communities
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