Fatherhood

Me with my sons Teddy and Charlie

Me with my sons Teddy and Charlie

Today is a treasured day for me. It’s Father’s Day in the United States and I’ll be spending it absorbed in the most important role I have—as father to Teddy and Charlie. When you strip it all away, it’s the only job that really, truly matters. At least in my world.

Fatherhood is an incredible responsibility. But it is not selfless because the person doing the giving is getting much more in return. Every father knows that what is most important is not what you say, but what you do; what you do is who you are. Those young eyes, trained to carefully observe, push fathers like me to be better. I am better because of them.

But you don’t have to produce or parent a child to be a father. These are neither necessary nor sufficient conditions. Fatherhood energy is much bigger than that.

To me, fatherhood is simply looking after those who are more vulnerable than you. It’s about leading by example. It’s about creating the conditions so that others may have an easier path than you did. It’s about caring. Deeply.

I’m lucky enough to know a number of men who bestow world-class fatherhood energy upon so many, even if they themselves have not actually been fathers in the traditional sense. They are archetypal fathers, in spirit if not in the standard practice.

Being a father is not just protecting the vulnerable, it’s about being vulnerable yourself. It’s the ultimate vulnerability to have your heart live outside of your body, knowing that your entire life could be shattered in an instant by someone or something that is out of your control. It’s painful even to write these words.

I’m especially mindful of that vulnerability today as I think of the fathers of Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, and the countless other black men whose sons never came home. I will never face the fear that so many black fathers face just by watching their sons walk out the door. It is beyond tragic; it is sickening.

I’m also mindful of so many black fathers who never came home themselves—either locked away for acts that would be a slap on the wrist for white fathers like me, or senselessly murdered in the streets by those sworn to serve and protect, like what happened to George Floyd and Eric Garner. Their children have been deprived of that fatherhood energy forever. The suffering is permanent.

This cycle repeats because our society tolerates such things. We have been tolerating it in America for a very long time—going back at least to 1619 in Jamestown, Virginia, and likely an entire century earlier. It has to stop.

Fatherhood energy is something the world needs more of right now, from everyone. We must look after those who are more vulnerable than us. We must lead by example. We must create the conditions so that future generations can have an easier path. We must care. Deeply.

A happy, yet solemn, Father’s Day to all. May each of us have the strength and fortitude to bring what that really means into the world.