Tag Archives: Fatherhood

The Palmers Ep. 1- Lions, Tigers, Emails, and More Rehearsals We Could Bear; Oh My! – Ava’s Big Moment in the Land of Oz

February 5, 2026 By in The Palmers Tags: , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

 

I quietly, patiently sat on a bench inside the school’s main office waiting for my daughter. I was there for early school pick-up, as my daughter was expected to be at play rehearsal at approximately 4:30 pm. And thus, this was daily life as we rocketed with nervous excitement toward the Wizard of Oz showtime that weekend. This was the final week for rehearsals. School dismissal is at 3:30 pm, so I needed to secure my daughter before a log jam of vehicles impeded both entry and exit to the school. I could not help but silently chuckle as I overheard another parent lamenting the same hectic, accelerated time schedule for her child.

Time management was extremely critical. And thankfully some of my mother’s customs are stubbornly engrained in me – time management being one of them. Trying to pass that skill along to your child is a story on its own. Rehearsals needed to move like clockwork. Therefore, I picked my daughter up from school, got her home to plate her dinner, her mother would feverishly apply her makeup shortly thereafter, and then I would whisk her off to a nearby high school (where the play would be ultimately performed) for rehearsal.

During previous weeks, rehearsals ranged from 5:30 pm to 7:45 pm, and at least they were not every day. In between drop-off and pick-up in the evening, I would try to squeeze in a workout at Planet Fitness. If I wanted to treat myself, I took a power nap in my car for much-needed revitalization. It was then off for pickup so I could get her home for a shower and bedtime. It was not unusual to observe my daughter walking with a slight limp from rehearsal. Aside from a speaking role, she was also cast in multiple choreographed dance sequences. To be sure, it was intense. Now, apologies to the audience, I am getting slightly ahead of myself.

Allow me to take a few much-needed steps back in time. This fantastic voyage to the stage begins back in the winter of 2024. Now, my child is a product of Disney Junior programming. Dating as far back as Doc McStuffins to current favorite Bluey; my daughter’s preferred (and parental approved) channel of choice has always been Disney. Woven within the animated fabric of general television series were fantasy musicals released on the channel. Fantasy musicals such as Descendants and Zombies were a healthy contributor to my daughter’s flair for the theatrical. And since Disney Junior were not above shamelessly broadcasting reruns ad nauseam, my daughter would eagerly capture every scripted line and nuance of her favorite characters. Her memorization was amazing. 

Fortuitously, an opportunity arose for her to utilize those theatrical superpowers for other than jitterbugging on her parents’ next to last nerve. That opportunity arrived in the form of a stage play being produced at her school. The opportunity flew under the radar until urgent e-mails were dispatched from the school to elicit student interest. The Disney Junior acting chops received the chance as Ava was cast in an ensemble role as a Lady-in-Waiting for the play Once Upon a Mattress.

The play is a musical comedy that reimagines the fairy tale “The Princess and the Pea”. Although my daughter did not have any speaking roles, she projected detailed facial expressions and mannerisms that gave life to her ensemble part. A robotic, lifeless ensemble cast can make for a dull experience; it is all the more I was proud of my girl performing. Once Upon a Mattress was a three-day affair, and every performance I sat front row to clap and cheer. A host of family and friends came out to support her. We were so very proud.

The next opportunity was a 2025 summer program offered by the Detroit Opera. My wife enrolled our daughter in the performing arts program Create & Perform. The program allows participants to write their own script, compose songs, and then act in their own original creation. Participants had approximately one week to write and compose their work, followed by one week of rehearsal. The result: The Magical Fishes and Their Frivolous Wishes.

This time my star had a speaking role; she played a magical fish in the ocean that granted wishes. Her performance did not disappoint. With a booming voice and tons of magical sassiness, she danced and sang across the stage waving her colorful sash to and fro. And armed with a magical bubble gun, she frolicked amongst the audience and stage granting wishes with reckless abandon. A woman sitting next to probably noticed my exuberance for this one particular performer. She leaned over and whispered, “Is that your daughter?” Brimming with internal pride, I replied, “Yes.” “She’s really good”, the lady replied. The edges of my mouth curled into a smile.

Fast-forward to fall/winter 2025 and the casting call for The Wizard of Oz was dispatched near and far to all the parents. The children had an opportunity to select two characters of choice for their audition. My daughter decided to read for the roles of Glinda the Good Witch and the Wicked Witch of the West. Now, allow me to tell you about this audition timeline. An e-mail was distributed on October 26th (Sunday). An e-mail was then distributed October 31st (Friday) for signup.

Auditions were then held November 3 (Monday) with callbacks on November 5th (Wednesday). Talk about a, ahem, wicked timeframe. Both sessions were approximately 2.5-3 hours – after school! Even for an adult, that is an extremely long day. We had no idea we were just getting started with the marathon. And so, we spent the weekend reading lines and watching the Wizard of Oz. I pulled up tutorials on cackling like a witch. Who knew there was such a thing?

Monday auditions went well; my daughter was confident she had nailed either role. Her memory is so sharp, as we were practicing, she had memorized the dialogue of both characters and would seamlessly transition between the two. My hopes were high. After the audition, she told me she received applause from the other students. My hopes rose even higher. I anxiously waited for the e-mail regarding a callback. Finally, she got the callback for Wednesday evening. I arrived at the school for parent orientation as the final audition took place down the hallway in the cafeteria.

Play fees, attendance policy, rehearsal schedules, and volunteer expectations were discussed – however – my mind was nervously drifting intently down the hallway. So, upon dismissal, I immediately Usain Bolted straight toward the cafeteria. The children were slowly filing out. My eyes erratically scanned the crowd searching for my daughter. Finally, she emerged through the double doors. Her face projected indifference. She was not chosen for either role. My tense heart hopelessly sank like an anchor; fatherly anger began to flame broil my insides.

Nevertheless, outwardly, I needed to project an aura of calm and extend unyielding support. As a father, you thoughtfully search for linings composed of silver to communicate hope. All was not lost. She was indeed selected for a speaking role. After receiving the deflating news, I curiously asked, “Well, what role did you get?” And with a slightly confused tone, my daughter replied, “Zeke.” I cannot lie; I did not know who Zeke was either. After a brief consultation with my trusted source, Google, I was duly informed that Zeke was the human counterpart to the Cowardly Lion who worked as a farmhand. So, during the drive back home, I explained that despite the fleeting disappointment, this was an excellent opportunity to have a speaking role, albeit a minor one. We would later learn that Ava would be tasked with 4 ensemble roles in addition to Zeke. The next 2 1/2 months were going to be exciting and challenging.

That following weekend, we proceeded to rehearse lines and watch more Wizard of Oz clips on YouTube. Of course, we intently focused on the farmhand Zeke to glean inspiration for Ava’s interpretation. Now, bless her little growing thespian heart, my child is truly suburban, and teaching her to speak with a farm belt accent was agonizingly hilarious. She would start with a farm-flavored twang of the tongue before hopelessly falling back into her normal, proper diction. Eventually, that plan of action was abandoned, and simply memorizing lines became the first priority. The school rehearsals were intense. The evening rehearsals ranged from 2-3 times a week and lasted 2 hours or more. And outside of school rehearsals, students were expected to practice daily for a minimum of 15-20 minutes at home. The results: abbreviated nights of sleep, sore feet, and aching ankles. Soon, however, the hard work would be well worth the effort.

Now, for the past few years, winters have been extremely mild here in Michigan. The requirement of snow removal had become almost nonexistent. So, I feel we were perhaps owed a past-due balance of blustery temperatures and copious amounts of snow. The inevitable school cancellations led to rehearsals being rescheduled with extended practices. Commutes became a little more adventurous, as Michigan drivers will blow a stop sign on icy pavement and won’t even blink. Still, the time was drawing near. And then, Polar Vortex 2026 was forecast to hit us on Friday. And what followed was yet another school cancellation, which coincidentally occurred on the same day as opening night. A furious flurry of e-mails and text messages started flying. A pivot was incoming.

The Friday evening show was cancelled and moved to Saturday. Wait, but there was already a Saturday show scheduled. Well, that only meant a morning show AND an afternoon show were to be performed. As I picked Ava up from the final rehearsal, I could hear the student grumblings in the chilled air. A very, very long day awaited the performers. A double performance. An entire day of acting, dancing, and singing. It would be a musical marathon of Munchkin madness. The night before, Ava attempted to secure a good night of rest. Nonetheless, I could hear her tossing and turning throughout the night in the adjacent bedroom. Heck, I was restless as well. The morning soon arrived. I served up wheat toast with sunflower seed butter, sausage links, and sliced apples for a power breakfast. After breakfast, she vaulted upstairs for her makeup session with my wife. I gathered snacks and loaded her performance gear in the car, and off into the Polar Vortex we went.

I dropped off the girl and then drove home to pick up the rest of the family. Arriving at the high school again, we filed into the auditorium and found our seats – second row, right in front of the stage. We spotted family and friends dispersed throughout the crowd. Many friends and family braved the frigid cold and snow to show support. Grandparents, aunts, great-aunts, Godmother, cousins, neighbors, and sorority sisters (Alpha Kappa Alpha) of my wife came out to show love. Soon it was showtime. A live, slow instrumental to Over the Rainbow began to permeate the auditorium. In the darkened auditorium, the student portraying Dorothy soon was spotlighted alongside the aisle as she walked slowly toward the stage. My nerves began to heighten.

The opening scene was underway. I nervously waited for my daughter to make her dramatic (at least dramatic in my head) appearance. It was not long until she emerged onstage in her farmer’s attire, pushing a wheelbarrow. Injecting her own flavor into the role of Zeke, she delivered her lines with confidence and dramatic style. My eyes began to mildly water, but I retained my composure and soldiered through the first act with a dry, if not proud, face. Scenes transitioned, choreographed dances lit up the stage, and melodic songs echoed throughout the auditorium. And then it was over. First performance in the books, one more to go. Energized by lunch from Chicken Shack and a brief 2-hour intermission, it was time for the second performance. With possibly nerves and anxiety settled down, the second performance was better than the first. More energy. More nuance. More presence.

In the aftermath, Ava indicated that this was by far her favorite play to participate in at school. She was able to make new friends and learn exciting dances. She loved that each performer had the other’s back. When a fellow performer forgot a line, my daughter was able to think quickly on her feet and deftly improvise dialogue, so the scene did not awkwardly stall. Ava was tasked with 5 roles: Zeke, a Munchkin teacher, an Ozian, a Winkie, and Jitterbug. So, as expected, the costume changes between scenes were fast and furious. Nevertheless, Ava was able to seamlessly transition to her scenes without missing a step. And speaking of steps, the Jitterbug was her favorite dance sequence. A deleted scene from the movie, it is a swing-style dance number that has the Wicked Witch sending little bugs to infect our heroes with an insatiable urge to dance until exhausted. I must have been infected as well, because that song hung inside my head at least a few days after the musical was over.

The end of the second performance was bittersweet. It was a memorable journey, but this guy was tired. During the first few months of rehearsals, my son’s basketball league ran concurrently during the week. The tandem of play rehearsals, basketball practice, and basketball games made for a very hectic collection of months. I will be writing about that adventure as well. My son has become a basketball addict. So, I asked Ava if she had any advice for fellow students who were thinking about participating in a play. Here are some amateur tips below. Thanks for reading. I’ll see you all next time, somewhere over the rainbow, enjoying warmer weather.

Advice from Ava

  • A performer should watch videos with a focus on acting. Watching a lot of musicals would be beneficial as well.
  • It is helpful to study and memorize lines that do not belong to your character.
  • Practice your dance moves.
  • Vocal warm-ups and singing
  • Build up your courage.

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Daddy Diary – Giving Them the Best That I Got – My Shortcomings as a Father & the Hopes They Do a Little Better Than Me

June 15, 2025 By in Daddy Diary Tags: , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Today, numerous posts regarding Father’s Day will reflect upon the magnificent triumphs of fatherhood, or the profound gratitude expressed for the sacred opportunity to raise a child. I wanted to write something slightly different. Sure, a thoughtful inspection of a gentleman’s social media content would project a portrait of nobility, compassion, strength, and dutiful sacrifice – mine included. However, no one is above imperfection, and that includes me. Yes, I am quiet and mild-mannered, but my temper can flare terribly given certain circumstances. And, as my years on Earth have grown longer, conversely my patience is seriously shorter. So, when my annoyance and irritation has reached critical mass, I silently retreat within myself and shutdown. And I can elevate my voice to intimidating, frightening decibels.

I am, nevertheless, human. I make the common error of bottling my emotions. So, when stress and anxiety build, my emotions detonate. Still, I tend to believe there are more than enough rewarding attributes I encompass than the negative ones. I add meaningful value to the lives of people around me. And it is my hope that the best of me is what is most impactful in my children’s lives. There are a multitude of parenting books on the market, but parenthood is really on the job training. And on occasion, when even functioning as the most well-meaning father, we sometimes come up short. We just need to keep striving; we need to show up as the best version of ourselves for our kids. Today, I wanted to share my shortcomings, how I am improving, and examples of areas where I do feel accomplished as a dad.

I was born in the inner city of Detroit, Michigan – single mother household with two younger brothers. Our family did not have much; government assistance and grandparents aided us. We probably lived below or at the poverty level, but we never wanted for anything. You cannot want what you never had, nor want what you never heard of. Life was simple. Life was relatively happy. So, with that frame of mind, it has been difficult for me to view current times through my children’s eyes. Life is much different for them. Juxtaposed with my generation, I am challenged to adapt to their world. Let us talk the basics of life for them: two working-parent home, a house in a safe neighborhood, great schools, food on tap in the refrigerator, clothing in the closet, healthcare, etc. And now the extras: vacations, special school programs, electronic gadgets, fine dining, etc.

Now, I know that may even be basic to many of you, but again with my upbringing, a trip to Boblo Island and dinner from McDonald’s was a TREAT! In my early childhood, we had: one black & white TV (special shout out to those who needed pliers to turn the channel because the TV knob was stripped), received food from Focus: Hope, wore knockoff clothing (shout out to Pro Wings sneakers and Goodfellows), received food stamps & Medicaid, and lived in residences with pest issues. So, when my kids pout, express a negative attitude, or display poor behavior (especially in school); I cannot wrap my brain around it. Their life with all the bells and whistles should equal gratitude – at least in my mind. You must understand how my upbringing molded my thinking. So, when a parent’s efforts and sacrifice to provide more than their own childhood is seemingly not appreciated, well, we have reached critical mass. In addition, if you consider my work-life balance is not truly balanced; a day of absorbing the shenanigans of coworkers has me on edge. At the end of the workday, my mental and emotional tank is empty. I lose my cool. I get angry. I yell. I have popped a bottom or two.

Now, growing up in a household with only brothers, little emotion was expressed. Our mother loved us, but our mother was stern. She was no nonsense. She handed down discipline the old-fashioned way. I do not believe that “gentle parenting” was even a thing back in the eighties. However, raising three boys in Detroit, I can understand why she tended to be tough on us. Life in Detroit at that time was unforgiving. My mother did her absolute best to keep us safe, healthy, well-mannered, and educated. All three of us grew up as successful, productive African American males with good jobs, families of our own, never in trouble with the law, no drug use, etc. You can say all three of us are conservative gentlemen. Shout out to my brothers Michael and Raymond.

However, growing up in that stern environment shaped my personality today. There is not much fluff with me. I can deal with emotions, but sometimes I cannot relate to them. I am an introvert, so I do not talk much unless I am comfortable around you. People have told me I am hard to read. People have said I am anti-social. I am stoic. And so, I tend to be the disciplinarian in our household. I am the hammer in the parental tool bag when discipline and order need to be driven home. As a parent, I know my kids fear me to a certain degree. If they are disobeying my wife, and they hear my footsteps, a hasty scurry ensues as they course correct and retreat to what they should be doing. If they are being chastised, they peer over her shoulder and look in my direction. Sometimes, I need to be order to the chaos, and deep down I hate it. It is mentally exhausting as you either mete out punishment or deliver an unfavorable decision. I fear my kids will harbor resentment toward me. It absolutely crushes my spirit when a scolding is required. It is a delicate balancing act – deliver enough discipline to correct behavior, but not so much where they hold disdain and shut you out.

Fatherhood is a heavy weight to shoulder. I want to do what is best for my children, but sometimes you second-guess your parental decisions. No generation is perfect. So, you try not to pass down any trauma from your upbringing and unknowingly instill it within them. I have no ill will toward my father. But I must believe that I am doing a little better than him. I am a working father fully present in my children’s lives. Alcoholism and domestic abuse did not carry over into the man I am today. I iron school clothes. I fix breakfast. I pack school snacks. I decorate the house for Halloween and Christmas. I attend every school event possible. I help with homework. I do school projects. I volunteer at the school. Packed into a week and a half: I dropped off & picked up my daughter for play rehearsal, decorated the house for my son’s birthday, attended all three nights of my daughter’s play sitting front row, and chaperoned at her school dance. I have to believe I am doing a little better than my father before me, and maybe even my paternal grandfather I never met.

However, I recount the times I had to speak to my son’s teacher nearly every day due to his behavior in the classroom. Grades were never an issue; it was following classroom rules that was a problem. I dreaded picking him up from school because the likelihood of speaking to his teacher was high. A conduct chart was posted near the classroom door. And as I slowly, anxiously walked down the hallway with that chart coming into view, I could see he was at the bottom, in the red region – again. Lord. The motivational, inspirational pep talks I conjured up every morning on the car ride to school would seemingly fall on deaf ears- for nearly three years. It was mentally and emotionally taxing. And so, I yelled. I took toys. I popped a bottom. And then more pep talks. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Thankfully, he is much better today. However, for whatever reason, my daughter started slacking in her schoolwork. Lord – now this. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. I am just trying to get this fatherhood thing right. I am trying not to react with anger. I am trying to talk quietly, yet firmly. I do not pop bottoms anymore. Instead, I take away allowance, take away electronic devices, or ask for push-ups. I am trying to be a better father. How so? What am I doing?

For Your Kids

  • Keep showing up and be fully present for your kids. Go to those school events. Volunteer and represent for them.
  • Be hands-on when you have availability. Help them with homework. Read to them. Read with them. Watch educational programming and discuss the content. Teach them something. Take them to a museum, a zoo, or local event.
  • Communicate. Communicate. Communicate. I will call the kids down into my home office just to talk about what is going on in their life and life topics in general. I do not sugarcoat anything. We have had discussions about drugs, bad influences, racism, adults that prey on children, adult content online, the dangers of social media – you name it, we talk about it. I recently had a conversation about boys and crushes with my daughter. Lord, please grant me strength.
  • To be sure, you will need to reprimand your kids. Nevertheless, do not forget to express love to them, and express your pride in them.
  • And when they mess up, sometimes it is okay to give them a pass. Like a police officer catching you speeding but happened to be in a kind mood that day; you can let your kids off with a warning. Hopefully, that goodwill builds trust over time.

For Yourself

  • Therapy. Yes. I have a coach to hold me accountable for my health. I have a therapist to keep me grounded and structured in my well-being. A gentleman’s selfcare and mental health is important.
  • I go for long walks. I go for short walks. Regardless of either, I walk. It is good for your health, both physically and mentally. It is a time I quiet my mind, brainstorm, and just think about life in general.
  • You need to go to the gym and lift something heavy. And by heavy, I mean heavy relative to your strength. No? Well, knock out some push-ups, free squats, sit-ups, jumping jacks, I do not really care. Just get moving and get active! It clears the mind, reduces stress, and provides a sense of accomplishment.
  • Sometimes you cannot call your therapist in the middle of the night. You need to get yourself a trusted confidant. And no, not the friend that will just spew the toxic nonsense you read online. You need someone trustworthy that will listen intently and offer wise counsel.
  • Offer yourself grace. You are human and you are going to mess up. You will not be perfect all the time. Failure is not failure in and of itself, failure is abandoning the pursuit of success. So, do not get down on yourself, continue to pursue greatness for yourself and your family. And hopefully, your kids will be a little better than you.

Salute to all the fathers out there just trying to do right by their family. Happy Father’s Day.

Valentine’s Day project. Stayed up past midnight. And packed candy bags. Oh yeah, ya man has skills.

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Happy Father’s Day!

June 15, 2025 By in Brotherly Love Tags: , , , , Leave a comment
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Pexels.com

“Fatherhood has taught me patience in all aspects of life and unconditional love.” – Iman, Texas

“Fatherhood is a blessing to me because through love, it has caused me to examine myself as a man and made me a better person.” – Cornelius, Michigan

Daddy Diary – Oh, What, Wow – He’s the Greatest Dancer (That Never Got the Chance to Dance)

June 11, 2025 By in Daddy Diary Tags: , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

So, it is safe to classify the following circumstances as a forgivable miss by good old Dad here. The evening event was advertised as a school dance. It was simple enough. Now, perhaps, I did not carefully read the information contained in the school e-mail as required. Perhaps, I was too excited to embarrass my child on the dance floor with the old man cutting a rug. Nonetheless, I obviously overlooked the fine print regarding the dress code for the evening event. And nowadays, I admittedly embrace the opportunity to slide into stylish threads given the years spent hiding in oversized clothing.

And so, about a month prior to the dance, lessons commenced in the family room to correct my daughter’s two left feet. I carefully curated songs from the 80s and 90s to serve up the appropriate vibe. Once we mastered the simple two step as our foundation, we were good to go. Next, I accepted the mission of procuring outfits for us both with hues of pink and purple as our core colors. I found a cute dress for my daughter at Von Maur. I procured accompanying stockings and shoes from Target. With the school dance one month away, we were ready to show up and show out. Imagine my shock as we pulled into the parking lot; kids were dressed to impress in tee shirts, shorts, and jogging pants.

With exasperation, Ava sighed, “We were supposed to be dressed for a neon lights party.” In other words, this was not the glitzy, formal affair that I envisioned in my bald cranium. Nevertheless, I reassured Ava that without any doubt, we would be the best dressed tandem at the dance. She could still accessorize her outfit with neon paraphernalia and still embody the central theme for the night. We walked past a few parents I recognized, as they chuckled at my newcomer mistake, and they confirmed that this was a dance truly for the kids. However, that irony was not lost on me because this was anything but a dance. 

To utilize the word dance to describe the event would be to use the word dance loosely. Rather, it was much more like a mosh pit of flailing limbs with all the coordination of a baby giraffe learning to walk – stuck on repeat. Amongst the arrhythmic chaos, small groups of boys decided that the auditorium was an indoor playground. They chased each other around, tossed party favors at one another, and wrestled around on the floor. I had to break up two scuffles. As a chaperon, Dad was recruited to guard the stage because hard-headed kids kept bum-rushing the stage and accosting the DJ with requests. Eventually they destroyed the neon lights party sign. 

Through it all, I did not even get a chance to dance with my daughter. Honestly, I do not believe I would have been granted the opportunity because the music was warm dumpster juice on a hot, muggy afternoon. Now, I am not blaming the DJ, but the music these kids listen to nowadays (yes, I am going grumpy old man here) is atrocious. No beat. No cadence. Nonsensical lyrics. I am sorry, Travis Scott is NOT an artist that has music worth hitting the dancefloor. As FE!N blared over the speakers, and I watched rhythmic challenged suburban kids bounce around like drunk kangaroos having a seizure, I frantically checked my watch praying the lights would come up. Overall, I represented for my daughter, and we looked good together. She had fun with her friends, so that is all that counts. However, next year, I am definitely dialing back the stylish threads.

Living Your Best Life – Giving It the Best That You Got – Finding Joy

December 28, 2023 By in Life Tags: , , , , , , , , 3 Comments

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An important component to parenting is the level of effort one expends to be engaged with one’s offspring. A few weeks ago, a friend of mine asked why I took the time to wrap Christmas gifts in such a fancy manner. Ultimately, the gift wrap would be hastily torn to shreds anyway. He did not really understand the reason for it all. And that is a fair question to pose. Well, there are two primary reasons why I decide to take the time to gift wrap items with a little extra flair. Now, it may be a cliche sentiment, but it really is the thought that matters. Somewhere in my children’s subconscious thoughts, I hope they are developing a deep appreciation and thankfulness for their father’s engagement. Years and years from now, it is my hope that I have created special memories they can recall when they are older. I want them to remember that during their formative childhood years; their father was an involved father. I feel overwhelming pride knowing that I am trying my best.

wp-17037497823152356965055761133696So, sure the little ones (I suppose they are not so little now) tear through their gifts like Tasmanian devils, but it well worth the effort to have a beautiful Christmas tree presentation with a colorful medley of decorative gifts underneath. My son even tagged along with me as we visited Michaels and Target to procure the necessary items to create a Palmer Winter Wonderland in the house. Hopefully, he is learning some lessons along the way. We did not purchase anything too ornate or spectacular, but the purchases enhanced the holiday spirit around the house.

wp-17037497826143480946093318733622The secondary reason for going the extra mile with gift wrapping affects me directly. Given that I do not have any harmful vices that would produce pleasure, but are nonetheless destructive, I am left to seek out positive outlets to trigger beneficial dopamine releases. Dopamine is an organic chemical that affects areas of the brain associated with temporary feelings of satisfaction, motivation, pleasure, and happiness. Therefore, it is common to find me in the yard during the summer tending to the family garden and mowing the lawn. The reward for the fruits of my labor is a great sense of accomplishment and pride. I never thought I would be that guy, but spending time out with nature and nurturing plant life is truly rewarding. Nowadays, I am always on the lookout for a project that elicits some inkling of happiness. 

wp-17037962854744167442503024111754Honestly, I would be dishonest if I said every aspect of my life was perfect and happy. No, unfortunately, that is simply not the case. Life can be indiscriminately unforgiving. Some days are really challenging. So, I wholeheartedly try to utilize every tool in my well-being toolbox to achieve as much balance as possible. The present above is one that really brought a smile to my face. The wrapping paper was heavier than the normal, standard variety one would purchase. The grayish blue surface was speckled with a glitter-like, grainy touch. It almost has a shimmer to it. It was simple, yet elegant. I used some excess paper to make a little bow which I affixed to the box with rustic piece of Christmas twine and bell. It’s amazing the sense of peace I feel as I fold, cut, tie, and tape my way to a finished project. I was really pleased with the results, and every time I saw it underneath the tree, I smiled inside with warm pride.

  • Gentlemen’s Best Life Challenge #1 – Identify an activity that engages and brings happiness to the life of another person(s). 
  • Gentlemen’s Best Life Challenge #2 – Identify an activity that brings personal contentment and a sense of accomplishment with yourself.

 

 

The Standard #21

May 3, 2023 By in Standard Tags: , , Leave a comment

The Obamas

The gentleman should never underestimate the magnitude of a cheerful, happy disposition-especially when that attitude is displayed towards his children. Sure, discipline is a vital function required to raise children. However, the totality of child rearing must be equal parts discipline and equal parts love. He cannot levy seventy-five percent discipline and only twenty-five percent love. And that discipline cannot be driven by anger. That would be unwise. Listen, a gentleman cannot walk around with a scowl etched on a rigid face of granite all the time. Smile. Laugh. Sing. As a father, it is incumbent that he sets the appropriate tone and atmosphere for his household. Children need to witness him being more than that guy who trudges to and from work.

Tired. Irritable. Unhappy. Trust this: children are much more perceptive than you award credit, and they absorb the negatively charged climate that you have helped create. Stop. The time has arrived for you to glide through the door and welcome your family with a fresh, joyous attitude. They deserve it. You deserve it. Will it be like that every day? Probably not. Nevertheless, trust that your efforts will not give audience to blind eye. Your children will definitely notice, and they will love you even more. Doesn’t it feel fantastic?

Daddy Diary – It’s So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday – My Little Girl Is Growing Up and I’m Hopelessly In My Feelings

October 29, 2022 By in Daddy Diary, Life Tags: , , , 2 Comments

I must humbly submit that I am fraught with trepidation writing this post. Unfortunately, I don’t write much nowadays because the daily grind of life has allowed time to escape more readily than I desire. However, events of the past few months have exposed me to a predictable inevitability; kindling deep reflection that I want dutifully documented. Therefore, if you would please, bear with me because I am perhaps rusty with this blogging thing. Allow me to proceed straight away to the point – my beautiful baby girl is blossoming into a little young lady. And through this maturation, I have been overwhelmed with varying emotions. Nostalgia, sadness, joy, and pride all spiral within me, lessening and magnifying in strength depending upon the day’s mood.

Admittedly, during those seemingly perpetual days of torturous sleep deprivation, as I clung desperately to any modicum of available sleep, a friend noted that I would one day miss those days. And defiantly, I stubbornly disagreed with the absurdity. Well, the time as begrudgingly arrived. Trust me, I certainly do not long for the days of erratic and scant sleep. Nevertheless, I do yearn for those early years when that intimate connection between father and daughter was being cultivated. Now, as she grows older and establishes more independence, her dependence on me is seemingly fading. Yes – I am being overly dramatic. At only 8 years of age, she is still greatly dependent on me for a host of things. And she will be for the foreseeable future. However, as a parent of a growing child, emotion and logic sometimes don’t cooperatively coincide. So, what has me thinking and caught up in my feelings nowadays? I felt compelled to connect again with my audience and share a few thoughts below.

  • Long gone are the days of putting my daughter to sleep with Kenny G softly playing in background. And gone are the days of making a small pallet on the floor next to her crib as I sleep trained and took her to potty at night. Those nights have been replaced with her escaping to our bed after a nightmare whilst elbowing and kicking me and my wife because she is a trained mixed martial arts sleeper.
  • Harry the Bunny. Shushybye Baby. The Dance Time Boys. Musti. This was the era of Baby First – an educational television channel geared towards the development of babies and toddlers. Disney Junior introduced Doc McStuffins, Octonauts, and Mickey’s Playhouse and PJ Masks. Now Bluey and Firebuds are in constant rotation. I swear I watched these programs more than I watched regular adult programming. Theme music danced in my head throughout my workday. It was a great escape from the tiring grind of adult life. Ava would cuddle underneath my arm and place her tiny hand on my forearm. As she has grown older, we don’t share those moments that often anymore. However, she surprised me the other day. She plopped down on the couch beside me and said, “Can I come chill with you dad?” Chill? She’s in elementary school now, so she is picking up new lingo. She snuggled up next to my shoulder. I smiled inside.
  • First, I would carry her into daycare. That soon progressed to me guiding her little staggering steps into school – sometimes still carrying her due to inclement weather conditions or simply trying to save time as I was pressed to get to work. Now, we are all the way to the point of her walking to the school bus stop. Initially, I walked her to the school bus stop, but I was hastily demoted in favor of her walking with her friends. As the weather has shifted to brisk mornings, she now prefers the warmth of my SUV until the bus arrives. Thankfully, the bus stop is literally one block over from our house. I guess I’ll wait until spring to get demoted again in favor of the girls next door.
  • And speaking of demotions, I fondly recall a teacher complimenting the preparation and content of Ava’s lunches. I took great pride making her lunch the night before school day. However, I was once again wantonly stripped of my responsibilities as I was now rudely replaced by elementary school…cafeteria food? I felt like Craig being fired on his day off. The absolute, unmitigated, audacious nerve of it all! What in the tater tot casserole and non-descript pizza on an aluminum baking sheet is going on here? Nevertheless, some of my services have been retained, as I have been commissioned to pack complementary snacks for the princess. Boy have I sunk low.
  • I have not even touched the topic of boys. Now, she has not openly admitted to an attraction to the opposite sex, but I was treated to an extended period of incessant chatter about her “best friend” – whom happened to be a boy – at school. Every. Single. Day. And the day he was a little mean to her – she was crushed. Teaching moment. In the distant future, I now understand I need to recruit a close confidant to have a conversation with any young men that may enter her life – we’re talking a Will Smith/Martin Lawrence Bad Boys’ style conversation. Just joking, just joking – no, not really.

Now, I completely understand all of this sounds over-the-top. However, whether I am summoning Small Potatoes (a cartoon short that used to air on Disney Junior) on my smart phone to distract and comfort her in the ER, pulling a splinter from a tiny foot, purchasing her favorite character’s Halloween costume, or cooking one of her favorite dinners (chicken& waffles); I care very deeply about being a fully present father. And dwelling within my scattered thoughts is the unreasonable fear that one day I will no longer be needed. I’m woefully obsolete. It is that intense tug-of-war between emotion and logic. Emotion dictates a converse relationship between a child growing older and my own parental worth. As her age increases, my worth and value decline. Logic then intervenes and affirms that as a parent, as a father; I will always have purpose and presence in my children’s lives. I need to cope and understand that change is indeed inevitable. Nonetheless, those changes don’t detract from my role and responsibility. I need to remind myself every now and again. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go fix my little girl some hot tea with lemon & honey to assuage a nagging cough.

Living Your Best Life – Unexpected Joy

March 19, 2022 By in Life Tags: , , , , 3 Comments

GiftsIt would be an immense understatement if I said last year was painfully challenging. Consumed with anxiety and stress; personal victories were attained by simply making it through a day with a shred of sanity intact. True to form, life is predictably unpredictable, and sometimes leaning heavily into faith is the only recourse – even when said faith is terribly shaken. Nevertheless, I am grateful for the quality of life that has been afforded to me through grace and mercy. I am exceedingly thankful that my family has been able to endure the pandemic absent severe sickness or death.

Now, it would be disingenuous to suggest that faith alone solved all my tribulations. And for all intents and purposes, I am a practical man that favors tangible and actionable solutions. Over the course of the year, I was able to find sanctuary within a myriad of activities that were enjoyable. And as the year winded down, the holiday season presented an unexpected opportunity for a constructive distraction to assuage the discomfort in my spirit and mind.

That distraction arrived in the form of wrapping Christmas gifts. Due to my slight habit of being obsessive compulsive, I discovered myself diving into YouTube tutorials featuring the art of gift wrapping. Instagram and Pinterest became familiar destinations to extract visual inspiration. Big box locations such as Michaels and Target stocked the necessary supplies to transform imagination into reality. If but for brief moments of solitude, I was able to glean a piece of happiness through the coordination of design, color, and material. It was especially satisfying to present a beautiful array of gifts under the tree to my children. One of the greatest joys of fatherhood is being able to provide happiness to your children. So, whenever or wherever you might discover some unexpected joy in life; ensure that you grant the requisite time to absorb and appreciate every second of it.

The Standard #58

August 24, 2021 By in Life, Standard Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Clouds

To be absolutely clear, a hardworking gentleman understands the meaning and value of his tireless labor. And to be absolutely sure, the reality of fatherhood only heightens said understanding. Trust, this gentleman maintains a deep, fundamental comprehension of provision and the significance of being a contributor. And so, when seasons of life are absent peace or joy – perhaps both; it is not uncommon for him to lean heavily into his work; a passionate attempt to seek refuge and fulfillment by claiming, reasserting his own value to himself. Work is transformed into an instrument that exerts authority over one’s mental and emotional well-being. It is a blunt tool utilized to manage anxiety, stress, insecurity, and pain. He accepts the incredible burden of arduous work to unburden himself of heavier burdens – both emotional and mental. However, whatever accomplishments that are attained, the satisfaction is never truly satisfying. Frantic attempts for relief only lead deeper into work. The wise gentleman must conclude that work does not inherently grant him value. Rather, it is he that affords value to his work, to his friends, to his family, and to himself. So, if no one tells you today (and demonstrate through their actions); I am here to convey on behalf of countless gentlemen such as yourself; you are recognized, appreciated, respected, and loved.

Living Your Best Life – Fulfillment

June 4, 2021 By in Life Tags: , , , , , , , Leave a comment

As an engaged father, being an active participant in your child’s life is one of the most rewarding experiences you will ever have as a parent. As you nurture their burgeoning self-esteem and champion varying accomplishments; their achievements will reinforce one of the most important components in a gentleman’s life – purpose. To be sure, acceptance of idle fatherhood is to deny one’s principal role as a father. Passionately embrace your purpose, and the joyful fulfillment you feel will further drive the best in you.

The Standard #51

May 13, 2021 By in Standard Tags: , , , , , , , Leave a comment

To be sure, the thoughtful gentleman understands that every moment of significance carries meaning. Moments matter. This is especially true for the gentleman that has embarked upon the journey of fatherhood. Understandably, the journey is an arduous one, replete with important occasions that beg the focused attention and participation of a father. This is non-negotiable. Hopefully, this active role fosters an intimate relationship between father and child grounded in an appreciation and love exclusive to both involved parties. For example, approximately three years ago, my daughter was experiencing respiratory distress that prompted an expeditious visit to the emergency room. My wife needed to be home with our newborn son since, ironically, a hospital isn’t the best spot for a newborn outside of the initial birth. So I stayed with my daughter through a series of evaluations and treatments until she was discharged.

During the entirety of the event, I provided a calming and reassuring presence for her, as you can expect the circumstances would be quite frightening to a two-year-old. Now, some may think it odd, but I took pictures and videos during our stay in the hospital. I wanted to capture this moment in time; this moment that further strengthened our bond as father and daughter. To her, I was her protector – a source of depended comfort and safety. To me, she was my ward – simply my little baby girl. I had to be there for her. And every now and again – three years later – I still look at pictures and videos from those days we shared together. And upon viewing them, the emotions from that day come flooding back – in a positive way. Despite the circumstances, I cherish that time we shared together.

Now, I don’t assert that a father and child need to experience an extreme event to form a healthy, caring connection. However, I am asserting that a father should never shy away from moments with his kid(s), no matter how large or small. And he should embrace opportunity fully and make the most of it. Sure, a gentleman probably won’t engage in every waking event, but an honest effort is definitely demanded. There possibly can be a myriad of chances at a gentleman’s disposal: attending a recital, helping with homework, attending children’s school events, etc. Do not be mistaken, inaction is actually a conscious action. Gentlemen, as fathers, ensure the present-day with your kids isn’t a missed opportunity that becomes a distant past that you regret in the future. Make the most of your moments now!

Daddy Diary – The Mythology of the Self-Anointed High Value Man and the Essential Need For Highly Engaged Fathers

May 7, 2021 By in Daddy Diary Tags: , , , , , , , 10 Comments

I cannot overstate the following sentiment enough: The Internet is currently inundated with self-proclaimed lifestyle and relationship consultants dispensing brutally terrible advice to individuals that are obviously seeking to address some void in their lives. Generally, I don’t consciously wade into muddy social media waters, but some of the guidance that these men have offered is pure, unadulterated foolishness. Now, before I address the main issue of my unsolicited tirade, I have to place some due respect on the game. The recipe: Conflate some minor truth with your own prejudiced agenda, deliver inflammatory content in a controversial manner targeted at a specific demographic, and articulate your points so convincingly that you are perceived as a credible source. If the objective is to stimulate increased viewership, it is an extremely effective tactic, especially when combined with classic gaslighting.

So, what is it that has me slightly agitated at the moment? Well, I decided to view this one particular self-appointed expert regarding the definition of a high value man. After seeing all the buzz on social media, I wanted to see what had everyone talking. To be perfectly clear, the term high value man is extremely subjective. Nevertheless, the term was intriguing and I was curious regarding the involved prerequisites that had women clamoring for the opportunity to secure one. Viewing a few videos, it appeared the term revolved exclusively around elevated social status and wealth. Upon listening to one particular broadcast, I quickly realized the litany of responsibilities heaped upon women were tired misogynistic tropes that reminded me of a Mad Men era that became extinct long ago. I won’t explore a point by point analysis, but one proclamation that stood out was terribly problematic for me. Allow me to set the scene; a young woman calls into broadcast inquiring about the attainment of a high quality man. What followed was a bewildering, painful listen that left me wondering how people took this man seriously.

The speaker addresses the hard work required by a wife to keep said high value man. This assertion especially caught my attention: You’re (the wife) up at 5 o’clock in the morning, going to the gym, working out, making sure that by the time you get back, the kids are up. You have the kids breakfast ready, the kids are out the door. Make sure the kids get back home, the homework gets done, the kids are ready to go. I ain’t doing nothing for the kids. You have to get the kids ready to go…parent teacher conferences, homework, and everything else. I just look over it from an executive position and say great. Then you get the kids ready to go on and so forth. and then you serve your husband.

Now, if that looks like a tough read, it sounded much worse on video. And I even omitted some parts that further highlighted the servile role of the wife in the marriage. To be sure, this guidance from a “professional” is garbage. Now, full disclosure, I am not licensed in the field of psychology or social behavior, but anyone with a grain of commonsense can recognize bad advice when it is so nakedly blatant. Allow me to be perfectly clear, regardless of economic status, a man never abdicates his responsibilities as a father. There is more to providing for one’s family beyond providing for one’s family. In the context above, the husband (a 6 figure earner) has been reduced to the role of an automated workhorse whose sole purpose is to provide financial stability to his kid(s) and indentured servant. Apologies, I meant to type wife there.

Now, be sure to recognize this: An absentee father does not necessarily correlate to a man that does not reside with his children. An absentee father can indeed live under the same roof. If he is not fully present mentally, emotionally, or spiritually for his kids – then that man is indeed absent. A man simply cannot be disengaged from his children. A man should not be so absorbed in his professional life to the detriment of his relationship with his children, or his wife for that matter. You will work yourself to death and your job will be posted before your obituary, while your children won’t even know the man being eulogized. Fathers need to be fathers. That is why the advice and viewpoint above is so wantonly reckless. It is imperative that men are totally engaged in their children’s lives, whether in or out of the house. I understand that an individual has a right to their opinion. And the Internet is wide open for anyone to espouse an ideology on any platform. So, it is my duty to encourage, educate, and empower you with some facts courtesy of fatherhood.org.

  • Involved fathers improve their children’s overall emotional and social well-being.
  • Involved fathers reduce moms’ parenting stress.
  • Children with absent fathers are more likely to become absent fathers themselves.
  • Boys have fewer behavior problems and girls have fewer psychological problems when they have involved fathers.
  • Father involvement in schools is associated with higher likelihood of a student getting mostly A’s.
  • A father’s involvement during pregnancy positively influences health outcomes for mom, dad, and baby.
  • Daughters are less likely to engage in risky sexual behavior when they have consistent contact, and a sense of closeness with their dads.
  • Involved fathers lead to less distress in toddlers.
  • Children with involved dads are less likely to be mistreated.
  • One in four children live in a home without a dad.

Social media has elevated superficiality to such dizzying heights, the obvious deprivation of oxygen has impaired rational, logical thought in some individuals. If you are an adult and still utilize fabricated grade school metrics to assess beauty; perhaps you should reevaluate your current state of maturity. Now, I am not here to call anyone out for clout or stimulate website views – I run a small operation here. Nevertheless, small platform or not, moral courage is what compels my voice address disinformation and otherwise bad counsel. This is not rocket science. I wholly understand that the term “high value man” is a hot Internet catchphrase right now. However, the definition of value in this regard has been perverted to massage male fragility and insecurity while masquerading as a self-professed alpha male. Engaged fathers matter. Fully present fathers matter. Attentive fathers matter. I won’t get into deep dive regarding what determines a high value man. I’ve been chronicling specific standards that I believe a man should uphold on this site since 2008 – far before high value man became a buzzword. My thoughts generally focus on principled core values and ethical fundamentals. Many facets of a gentleman’s life (professional, family, community, talent/skill, personality) should account for what determines value. Bottom-line, again, fathers need to be fathers.

Today, without provocation, my daughter blurted out the definition of opaque. Approximately one week ago, she was discussing the concept of transparency (she had learned it in school), so I asked her if she knew the definition of opaque. She did not, and so I explained. Today, without provocation, she decided to reiterate that knowledge. She was so proud. And where did our initial conversation occur? It occurred during school pick-up. Me picking up the kids from school – fancy that. Miles knows how to pick fresh parsley, sauté vegetables, and grate various foods. How? Well, that is accomplished by inviting my son into the kitchen to prepare dinner for the family. Wait – I’m not supposed to be cooking, or shopping, or cleaning am I? Shame on me for engaged in matters of my home beyond paying a bill.

Trust, there is a tremendous benefit to being able to financially support or contribute to one’s family. Nevertheless, it would be woefully ignorant to underestimate the sense of fulfillment when you practice selflessness and serve your family. In addition to his family, a man will be performing a disservice to himself by depriving his life of those intimate, meaningful connections that can only be achieved through significant interaction. That value is incalculable. The pride that wells inside your chest as you watch your daughter recite the church poem you practiced with her days before. The gratitude you feel when your son grabs his stool to reach the counter because he never turns down an opportunity to cook with his father. The excitement you feel Christmas morning as you see the elation in their eyes as they tear through gifts. The feeling of devotion you feel when you set the alarm on your phone to wake up in timed intervals to deliver breathing treatments to your infant daughter through her crib bars. The trust you feel when you’re called to remove a splinter from a hand or foot. Amusement. Joy. Affection. In matters of your mental and emotional well-being, you cannot place a price tag on that. There are days when a memory or picture of my children is required to get me through the day. I need them as much as they need me some days.

Look, I’m not extraordinary special. I just understand the importance of engaged fatherhood. So, salute to Iman B. for exposing his son to woodworking during those special home projects. Salute to Adrian S. for his involvement in his son’s athletics and traveling out of state to attend championship tournaments. Salute to Milon B. for being involved with both his son and daughter during STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Math) activities. These are gentlemen within my peer group. And to any gentleman out there in the real world handling their business as nurturers and providers – salute to you too.

Daddy Diary – Superman Is a Fictional Character, Kryptonite Is Real and Super Dads Are Mortal

October 17, 2020 By in Daddy Diary Tags: , , , , , Leave a comment

Stubbornly, I awkwardly stumbled my way down the driveway to my Ford Fusion and plopped down in the driver’s seat. I placed the key in the ignition to start the engine, shifted into reverse, looked over my right shoulder to confirm clearance – nothing. I looked over my left shoulder – nothing. I shifted the car back into park, removed my keys from the ignition, stumbled to my porch bench and sat there defeated. Nothing. As I had previously peered over my shoulders to perform the ritual of ensuring clearance of stray objects or pedestrians, the nothingness wasn’t the absence of things I may run over, rather it was my vision. I could not clearly make out anything. And so, I sat on my porch bench, defeated, and phoned my wife inside the house to verify if she was going to pick up our son from school. Stubbornly, I was trying to perform the role of Superman, but I failed.

My health issues started the day before on August 4, 2020. I remember that day because I was driving to the polls to vote. As I made a left turn on Evergreen Road, I noticed my vision momentarily blurred as I entered the turn. As I made a mental note of the occurrence, I figured it perhaps a consequence of motion sickness as I sometimes suffer from time to time. However, this time was different because I was the driver and not the passenger. I noted the strange occurrence and continued on to vote with no problems. However, later that evening, I suffered a dizzy spell as I was bringing dinner to the table for the kids. It stopped me dead in my tracks and I had to find my bearings.

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Daddy Diary – Ghosts of Christmas Past – How My Children Restored My Joy For the Holidays

December 24, 2019 By in Daddy Diary Tags: , , , , ,

I suspect that many family holiday gatherings – much like my own – center around a primary figure that shoulders the responsibility of bringing everyone together. My grandmother bore the responsibility for being that central, primary figure. And for the many years that encompassed my childhood and early adult years; 8882 Kimberly Court Detroit, Michigan 48204 was the hub for food, laughter, and overall joyous times. However, just a few months before I married my wife, that tradition ceased with the passing of our matriarch. She died, and in many respects so did my holiday spirit – especially during the Christmas season. Fractured; segments of my family splintered and celebrated the holidays with their own loved ones at various locales. We ceased to celebrate as one big family. And I fully understand what the real meaning of Christmas should be (as a matter of religious belief), but it is extremely difficult to divorce oneself from familial love and tradition. Sure, I participated in a superficial celebration of the holiday, nevertheless, I was helplessly ambivalent.

Approximately seven years after my grandmother’s passing, my daughter Ava was born. Two years thereafter my son Miles was born. As many parents can attest, the arrival of children marks a decided shift from yourself to little beings that are solely dependent upon you. And so, gradually throughout their young years, my attitude towards the holiday season began to positively change. In many ways, the death of my grandmother was the end of the first act of my young life. The second act was tough. The complexity of life will always offer varying degrees of adversity, but the struggle was about to get real. And life’s problems have a sly way of stripping happiness and joy.

I do not believe one simply moves on from the death of a loved one. No. The steady, deliberate passage time affords the necessary coping skills and rewarding life events to manage grief while building emotional and mental resiliency. The birth of my children was a blessing to both my mental and emotional state during the holidays. I am reminded of innocence. I am reminded of happiness absent preconditions. I am reminded of a wonderful ignorance of the grim realities of the world. And yes, my children love Santa Claus, Rudolph, Frosty, and even the Grinch. Undoubtedly, life awaits them, but for now, I will draw joy from the joy of their childhood. The second act (of my life) was a rough start but was eventually infused with hope. I wish my grandmother was still living to experience life with my children. Unfortunately, we don’t get everything we desire in life because, well, life is life. That part deeply saddens me. However, that sadness is balanced by the sheer joyous pandemonium that is going to ensue Christmas morning with gasps of excitement, flying wrapping paper, and screams of elation. I am a little compulsive, so tonight I will neatly arrange the gifts under the tree before that tornado touches down. I cannot wait. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and your families!

Daddy Diary – Black Dads Matter, So With All Due Respect, I Am Not Your Average Stereotype

December 13, 2019 By in Daddy Diary Tags: , , , ,

It is my solemn promise, as a self-professed introvert, I truly attempt to mind my own business. For instance, I don’t actively participate in idle conversation with total, complete strangers. It’s just not within my comfort level. Furthermore, I certainly don’t overshare aspects of my personal life with said total, complete strangers. Nevertheless, those self-imposed unofficial rules do not discourage random individuals from volunteering their preconceptions and presumptions regarding yours truly. The stereotypes that accompany the role of a black male in society – notably here in the United States – are numerous to list, but for the purpose of this particular post, I will document a few scenarios when my fatherhood was defined by an old, tired trope regarding black marital status and parenting. It is irritating. It is maddening. It is ridiculous.

  • Scenario 1: Now, this particular situation is perhaps open to interpretation – I suppose. Maybe my experiences as a black male have left me rightly guarded and defensive. Nevertheless, during a normal shopping trip at Von Maur, I was searching for some outfits for my children. A salesperson offered some assistance, so I explained I was shopping for my daughter and son. I found some cute outfits and proceeded to the sales counter. I requested separate boxes so I could have each one gift wrapped so identification would be simple. The salesperson asked if I needed 2 gift receipts. The request struck me as odd, so I asked why would I require 2 gift receipts. Her answer: A gift receipt for each mother. I informed the salesperson that only 1 gift receipt was required as my wife was the mother of both my children. I guess one can’t purchase multiple gifts for children without the assumption that multiple women are involved.
  • Scenario 2: Walking through the office, I spotted a work friend, so I stopped briefly to say hello. He was involved in a conversation with a lady I did not know; I stated my pleasantries and attempted to keep it moving. He jokingly asked if I could pick him up some dinner after work. I informed him that I was on my way to pick up my kids from school. Out of nowhere, the lady offered that if I opted to secure his dinner instead of getting my kids, there would be some baby momma drama for me. Once again, I had to correct the record. My wife was out of town, so I had to tend to my children. Undeterred, she hit me with another label and called me Mr. Mom. At that point, I excused myself and walked away. Why can’t I be a normal, married black man picking his kids up from school? Is it that far out of the realm of possibility?

I am fully aware that black fatherhood – at least in America – is stereotypically synonymous with absenteeism, toxicity, and overall just being a bum – devoid of responsibility, accountability, and love. However, perception doesn’t perfectly correlate to reality. Now, it is true that nearly 70 percent of births by black women are to unwed mothers. That statistic, unfortunately, and incorrectly translates to the aforementioned narrative I outlined at the beginning of this paragraph. According to a 2013 study by the Center for Disease Control & Prevention, their findings belie the notion that black fatherhood is baby momma drama and fleeing from Friend of the Court. Surveying parental involvement of Hispanic, black, and white fathers; it appeared that black fathers performed their parental duties the best. The percentage of black fathers (aged 15-44 years) living with their children (aged 5 years and less) was higher than their Hispanic and white counterparts performing the following parental duties:

  • feeding or eating meals with their children
  • bathing, diapering, helping use the toilet and dressing their children
  • playing with their children
  • reading to their children

Now, I won’t pretend bad actors don’t exist. There is a sizable population of black men out there that do not represent the best of us. And to be sure, the fact that approximately 70 percent of births by black women are outside of marriage can be problematic. Nevertheless, as the study indicates, when the black male lives in the household, he is just as involved if not more than other fathers in different ethnic groups. I understand that film, television, music, news, and social media outlets are likely to continue the perpetuation of negative stereotypes. Black male brokenness appears to be more marketable than black male excellence. My daily rituals as a black father confound and surprise many individuals because I don’t adhere to historical, negative stereotypes. The data supports the reality – black fathers put in work. We have to change the narrative and fervently champion the virtues of being dedicated fathers to our children. We can no longer allow the unsavory sects of society to define our character and encourage us as black men to rise to low expectations. We have to set and maintain a standard of virtuous fatherhood by leading by example. I really would like this article to become a living post, as fathers chime in with advice and testimony, as you are living your best life as a black father and smashing age-old stereotypes. I hope to hear from you.