Black fathers hold deep talks about changing the narrative

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At a Father’s Day celebration and march in Brooklyn this past weekend, the Amsterdam News got a chance to ask parents how the myth of an “absent Black father” has affected them. Many agreed that the stereotype has finally lessened with time and a concerted effort from organizers, electeds, and men just being dedicated dads.

As an example, the Dad Gang, founded by children’s book author Sean Williams, held its sixth March of Dads event at Fort Greene Park in Brooklyn on Sunday, June 15. Despite a little rain, Black and Brown fathers showed up by the dozens with their families for the march. Bubble wands, hooded strollers, high fructose corn syrup, and umbrellas were in abundance.

“We have to talk life into them [our children],” said actor Yasin Bond, who attended the march with his daughter and sister. “We have to speak positivity into them. We have to let them know that they’re capable, they’re loved, and just be there and guide them. The way that we speak to our children is very crucial as well, because we are their blueprint, and as parents and as fathers, specifically, we lay the foundation. What we say to them will always echo in their head.”

Bond reflected on his fraught relationship with his own father, and said he tries his best to instill in his daughter what he didn’t get in childhood. “I take pride in being a father, a single father, and it’s a mission that I’ll never back down from.”

One father, named Richard, hoisted his son up on his shoulders as he wildly blew bubbles into the rain. He said that his father was shot and killed when he was a two-year-old. He tries to imagine what his life would have been like with him and wants to give that version to his son, who is almost two years old now. “I cherish every moment, every second, because, you know, you can never know when it’s time, so I try to be the best and I try to be there every time,” he said. 

Bronx Councilmember Kevin Riley, a father of three, passed a resolution with the City Council in 2023 to designate the month of June as Fatherhood Recognition Month. He’s also spearheading a local law to establish an Office of Black Male Excellence.

On a personal note, Riley’s father was deported back to Jamaica due to criminal justice-related “issues” when he was younger. They still speak weekly, but he wishes he could see him and that his father could meet his grandchildren. Otherwise, Riley found many positive male role models in his community church and among his colleagues in government whom he grew up with. He hopes that he is a dad who is loving, continues to grow and learn as his kids grow, and is happy he gets to be a part of all aspects of his kids’ lives. 

Riley said that typically Black fathers, or even fathers in general, weren’t considered to be the “nurturing” parent but data has done a lot to reshape that thinking.

In 2013, the National Center for Health Statistics (NCHS) published a report measuring how involved fathers were with their children. The report expanded the definition of father to include men who were biological fathers, an adoptive parent, and stepfathers by marriage or cohabitation. It also analyzed how a child living with their father full time or apart, their age range, marital or cohabiting status, education, and race affected their time spent participating in their child’s lives and activities. 

Based on thousands of collected interviews, the report found overall that fathers were less likely to engage with their children if they did not live together. In terms of race, Black fathers were most likely to have bathed, dressed, diapered, or helped their kids under 5 use the toilet every day compared with white and Hispanic fathers; likely to have eaten a meal in a four-week time span, played with, or read to their kids; most likely to take their children to or from activities every day; and most likely to help their kids with homework. 

“To me, fatherhood means representation and legacy,” said Soca Run Festival Founder Troy D. Johnson. His organization collaborated with the Dad Gang on this year’s event. “I feel like Black fathers are necessary because they made me who I am.
Black fathers to me are misrepresented, and I feel like our generation, which is the millennials, are changing that. I feel like the more we are represented, the more the truth comes out about the world.”

That isn’t to suggest that Black and Brown fathers don’t still face real challenges like over-incarceration, gun and gang violence, police brutality and killings, high unemployment rates, lower education or matriculation rates, lack of mentors with adequate access to resources, and a systemically racist court system that has historically affected their communities for decades. 

“We need to pay attention to what’s going on with Black men,” said Riley. “When we think of incarceration, everyone pays attention to criminal justice systems. Black men are the ones that are the most overpopulated in that system, so if we’re looking at the issue within that, we have to figure out how we protect them and help that specific demographic. As a Black legislator, it’s my job to also protect people that look exactly like me.”

Mayor Eric Adams recently collaborated with the city’s Department of Youth and Community Development (DYCD) to put out a citywide fatherhood plan, which builds on the DYCD’s longstanding “Fatherhood Initiative” program. The initiative helps fathers reconnect with their children, provide financial support, and develop parenting skills. The city’s studies show that children with involved fathers are less likely to enter the criminal justice system, and that an active and nurturing style of fathering is associated with improved verbal skills for infants, greater patience for toddlers, and better intellectual functioning and academic achievement among adolescents. Adams promised $7 million to expand the program.

“Children need role models. They need examples,” said Mike Bobbitt, deputy commissioner for community development at DYCD. “Knowing that your mother and your father love you does a lot in terms of you loving yourself.”

While at the march, Bobbitt pondered his relationship with his parents. He was largely raised by his mother because his father lived overseas. He said they got to spend time together whenever he would visit. Bobbitt himself now has a 16-year-old daughter.

Ariama C. Long photos

According to José Luis Vilson, a sociologist; adjunct associate professor at Teachers College, Columbia University; author in Harlem; and executive director and co-founder of EduColor, media, movies, and news often foist an image of criminality, hypersexualization, or harsh enforcement onto Black men in general. 

“It’s the overseer effect, where we’re expecting Black men to be punishers and enact those policies that are ultimately harmful to Black people,” said Vilson to the AMNews.

Over the last 50 years, that enforcer image has applied to Black men in education and fatherhood, said Vilson. Black men were seen as absent, neglectful, and only concerned about work or money. As the nation pauses to celebrate Juneteenth (June 19) in the current political climate, it’s important to note that the family and strong community structure in Black and Latino households were also historically and institutionally weakened by chattel slavery in the U.S. and throughout the Caribbean — similarly to mass deportation tactics used by the current federal administration in the modern day that break apart families and split communities politically, said Vilson. 

But times, as well as traditional gender roles and identities, are changing. This shift has certainly aided in the “reimagination” of what it means to be a Black man and consequently, a Black father, said Vilson. 

For the most part, Black women have protected Black men, the home, and more largely the community through leadership and activism during this time, Vilson said. 

“I think because of the generations of women having to be the ones to protect, and frankly the chauvinism in those spaces, it is incumbent on Black men to reimagine themselves as protectors — not to be patriarchal, but to say that we have a role, and to take leadership and/or to listen to our partners, whether they be Black women, Black LGBTQIA+ folks, or whoever we ought to be listening to,” said Vilson. 

Vilson admits his father, who had eight other children, was not there for him. He sees it mostly as a reflection of the expectations and failures of that generation. “If I saw him once a year, I was lucky, so I found myself saying that the one thing I can do for my son, even if I don’t always have the words, is to be present,” he said.

Another educator, Barry Cooper, founded the Brothers Redefining Opportunity (B.R.O.) Experience Foundation, based in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, to better support mental health programs and youth. He grew up with his father at home, but felt like “he did not have the capacity to love me.” With therapy, Cooper came to understand that his father didn’t have the tools to foster trust and love when he was younger. He said he wishes that his father wasn’t so intent on raising him in a militant fashion and allowed him to have a boyhood. They have a much better relationship now that he’s an adult. He’s also learned to give his own son his patience, grace, accountability, expression, and proper communication.

Cooper thinks the biggest challenge Black and Brown fathers face is access to resources, like housing and mental health services, and understanding how to navigate resources for parents. He believes that the role of a father is still to set the tone, connect, and healthily support his child, and is excited to see the visibility around fatherhood increase. He hopes that in another two generations, some of the internal challenges of fatherhood will subside.

“The level of dads speaking out and saying, ‘We want to be seen, we wanna be heard, and we want you to acknowledge us,’ [is] us killing the myth that we are deadbeats, and a lot of men have grown up in single parent homes who absolutely want to be different.”

For Cooper, the representation of fatherhood in communities of color means protection and safety. He agrees with Vilson that Black women have unfairly borne the brunt of protecting the family while also being the nucleus of nurturing and love in the household. 

Cooper’s program, Daddy and Me, echoes the DYCD’s fatherhood initiative program. He thinks Adams needs to dedicate more funding to furthering fatherhood and parents. Ideally, Cooper would see more money go to social service supports like cognitive behavioral therapy for fathers, transitional housing for young fathers aged 18–25, savings accounts with stipends, life skills courses, employment and job training, taxes and contract services, and education. 

“The thing is that most young men have grown up in a city of apartments or tenement housing. The apartment gets passed from mother to daughter, let’s say, and men aren’t taught how to take care of the household,” said Cooper. “Especially in New York City, men having access to affordable housing [on their own], having their names on leases or rental agreements, is far and few in-between. Most men are out here couch-surfing or with their girl who has her own place.” 

Former Assemblymember Michael Blake, a mayoral candidate this year, said at the event that with additional funding, he would amplify his advocacy work through his My Brother’s Keeper mentorship program. 

His father, Hadley George Blake, has died, but Blake felt he had many role models to look up to and learn from in his life. “The best way to show that you are being a great father, whether it be through blood or through love, is by being consistent,” said Blake.