We’ve long known the myth about Black fathers and their general lack of involvement and fitness as fathers was simply mush, yet another way for a country fearful of Black masculinity to emasculate and dehumanize brothers.
I am a Black father, and I am nothing like the Black fathers you’ve heard about. You know - the violent ones, the absent ones, the unwilling to work ones, the Nick Cannon baby-in-every-corner-of-the-country ones. The ones we often are when you watch TV or a movie.
A CDC study found that Black fathers who live with their children were more likely than white or Hispanic fathers to bathe, change or dress their children every day, more likely to eat meals with their children every day and more likely to help their children with their homework every day.
The iconic study is a decade old now and continues to be cited, and it’s worth remembering as fathers across the country are celebrated.
Brothers deserve their neckties and golf balls, too. Barack Obama ain’t the only good Black dad in America.
The former president and I don’t have a whole lot in common - I’m better-looking, a better public speaker, and I’m far smarter. (OK, family and friends, you can stop laughing now.) But Obama and I - and a whole lot of other Black fathers - used the absence of our own fathers as fuel in our commitment to be everything we could be for our children.
Yes, there is a sad caveat to those CDC numbers. It’s that too many Black men - far, far too many - are NOT custodial fathers. High divorce rates, low marriage rates, giant disparities in incarceration rates, those all play a part in having too few Black men getting the opportunity to be custodial fathers.
Some of that is on Black men. Some of it is on systemic racism.
The point is that, when we’re there to do the job, we do the job. And we do it well.
Being Ashley’s dad and Wayne’s dad and, now, dad to my lovely daughter-in-law, Erica, those are the aspects of my life for which I am most proud.
Each knows they can call on me at any time for any reason, and I’ll be there.
It gave me great joy to be there for all of the moments of Ashley and Wayne’s childhood, large ones and small ones.
I remember realizing that baby Ashley, seconds old, recognized the voices of the mother and father who spoke to her during those months before she was born. I remember the indescribable joy of watching Wayne take Erica’s hands in his at their wedding and quietly tell her he loved her.
All of the moments in between - the orchestra performances, the parent-teacher conferences, the academic encouragement, the sickbed ministrations, the this-is-going-to-hurt-me-more-than-it-hurts-you discipline, the college and career advice - I can say I was there for all of it.
And so can just about every Black father I know. So, a tip of the cap to you, Rodney. Salute to you, Rick. Way to go, Nijon. I’m still taking notes, Jim. Proud of and happy for you, Duchesne. Kill it, Marcus.
I’m honored to be in your company. We’re in the best club going, and, like an American Express card, membership has its privileges.