TRUE!
TRUE! is a series of must-read reposted articles that I find from time to time to support the love we all share for our Black fathers!! Check them out!
These articles are truly valuable in our journey to grow and thrive! Please read and pass along.
WHAT BLACK MEN THINK!
By Mybrotha.COM Staff Writer - December 28, 2006
Here’s an intriguing observation about Black society and how we view the media — We often criticize mainstream media by scoffing at the validity of information they feed us. Yet we consistently perk up and listen carefully when factions from the same media sources begin revealing statistical information about the Black community and Black men.
During any given week, you could probably watch a television newscast, read a popular book, or view a documentary on Blacks — and hear a variety of discouraging statistics about Black men. It’s a common occurence and leaves many Blacks shaking their heads, accepting it as true, then changing the channel.
According to various media sources, and many Blacks who gather information from them — most Black men are in jail or prison; jobless or in low-paying occupations; do not attend colleges or universities; are drug dealers, drug users, want-to-be pimps, hustlers, and “down low” brothas infecting Black women with HIV at alarming rates.
But where do these statistics come from? How do we know if the numbers are real, and whether or not they have been skewed for political or social agendas? Where do the calculations originate, and who does the calculating?
Janks Morton, who directs and produces an interesting upcoming documentary about false statistics connected to Black men, says the numbers aren’t as lopsided as you may think. In fact, some reported data is either misleading, misrepresented, half reported, or simply wrong.
A clear example is a 2001 Justice Policy Institute report stating the number of Black men in prison (791,600) was higher than the number of Black men in college (603,000). However, the study was reported by media outlets without a key stat. The number of college-age (18-24) African-American men attending college was higher than the number of incarcerated men from the same age group. The Justice Policy study included incarcerated men ages (18-55), which provided a larger sample group. In using the larger sample group, the data showed more Black men in prison than in college.
According to the Status Report on Minorities in Higher Education and the Department of Justice: Bureau of Justice statistics — In 2000, there were more than 469,000 African-American college-age (18-24) men enrolled in college, while 114,400 college-age men were in prison.
Another grim statistic reports on the numbers of Black women infected with HIV, and the belief that “down low” brothas are causing these numbers to rise exponentially. In a 2004 Centers for Disease Control report, cumulative statistics show that 20% of reported AIDS cases in women were the result of injection drug use, while 2% were related to sex with a bisexual male.
The same CDC report also shows that the number of women infected after having sex with an injection drug user is more than 3-times the total number infected after having sex with a “down-low” man.
But these stats mean nothing if you simply listen to what you’re being told. The Black community has always been aware of negative statistics, many of which need further attention. Nevertheless, other data is being wrecklessly delivered to us and it’s all based on presumptions, stereotypes, and miscalculations. The only way disspell the myths is to research the statistics ourselves and reveal more accurate information.
In Morton’s public service announcement and documentary “What Black Men Think”, real men challenge the Black community to take responsibility for the images of Black men. When we explore health-related matters, public education, unequal justice, and affordable housing — we sometimes foolishly believe inflated statistics and assume Black men are a dying breed.
Unfavorable reports should not be the motivating factor for uplifting our brothas. We must be careful not to use such statistics in a way that creates doubt in the minds of Black men and boys — leaving them to distrust their own value and abilities.
When Will Black Fathers Be Allowed Peace?
Mike Ramey
Aug 26, 2002
The African American father of today is carrying a triple load.
First, a firm MAJORITY of us are working to support, provide, and raise our OWN families.
Second, a firm MAJORITY of us are helping to ‘mentor’ or ‘raise’ children from single parent homes.
Third, a firm MAJORITY of us are working IN and AROUND many of our local communities to help steer many of our young men AND young women away from the streets, and into responsible and upright living.
In my neck of the mighty Midwest, we have Black fathers who are patrolling the hallways of local high schools. We have Black fathers (along with Black mothers) who patrol one of our major shopping malls a few hours per weekend to keep OUR young people from running headlong into trouble with the law. We have other Black fathers working in their local houses of worship with young men in their congregations. We have other Black fathers working with youth who have been incarcerated, or jailed for crimes committed.
You won’t see many of us doing these things, because it is more important–in our view–to get the job done, rather than pose for the cameras, or appear on talk shows explaining why we do, what we do. But it SURE would be nice for many in our communities to take the time to remember that they have gotten where they are thanks to TWO people. A Black mother and a Black father.
Not only is this the truth, and not a ‘self-esteem’ lesson, but also this is REALITY.
But it SURE would be nice to find some peace, among our people, in many of our communities. I’ll be happy to explain why, in just a few lines.
SELF-ESTEEM MORE IMPORTANT THAN TRUTH?
African American men in general, and African American fathers in particular have been poked, prodded, studied, examined, and re-examined over the last 30 years by a host of sociologists, psychologists, MSWs, counselors, ‘Think Tanks’ (both Democrat and Republican), economists, feminists, multi-culturalists, diversity speakers and media pundits–of various races.
We’ve been ‘chewed on’ by our women (single and/or married), ‘gossiped about’ in various magazine publications, and ‘grilled’ by our youth.
But then–along comes Michael Jordan who honors his late father.
But then–along comes Tiger Woods who honors his father.
But then–along comes the Williams sisters who honor their father.
And ALL the critics can find is that the soft, fuzzy, feel good ‘self-esteem rhetoric’ has been firmly replaced by the truth of a strong WORK ethic! The critics find that there are SOME–if not MANY–Black fathers who still believe: “If you WANT something, you have to WORK for it–and self-esteem DOES NOT pay bills, win scholarships, or championships!”
Yes, say what you want about the problems that may plague our communities. However, many of the problems can be traced to three things: Rebellion, Compromise, and a lack of listening to one’s father!
Yes, the feminized mainstream entertainment and media may portray that ‘Father DON’T Know Best’, but the truth is right in front of many of us. Dad is pretty wise, as he’s come through the battles of life and helped put YOU here!
A GRIM REALITY:
If I may get biblical for a moment, one of the Ten Commandments holds that we are to honor BOTH our father and mother, so that our lives may be long upon this earth.
To make it short and sweet, we can’t honor one OR the other, we have to honor BOTH! Not because it is ‘politically correct’, but because it is RIGHT!
I’ve noticed over this past summer the flurry of articles about why young men are not entering nor graduating from many of our colleges and universities as fast as young women. Could it be that they don’t want to go where they are NOT wanted? I’ve also read a few articles on why young men are not ‘anxious’ to get married and raise families.
Could it be that many young women are fearful of commitment?
Among the brotherhood, it is common knowledge that more than a few young men have had the ring, the preacher, and the rice ready–but the young women wanted to ‘find themselves’ and nixed the idea of marriage.
Then, to round out my summer, I read several articles and commentaries about what fathers ‘should’ be doing, or are ‘not’ doing, or ‘can’t’ do. Well, unless one has taken a good look at what fathers ARE doing, could it be that the critics don’t want to see?
The grim reality of many an ‘expert’ is that they often comment without doing their homework. If they have an ax to grind about their own upbringing, why try to paint ALL fathers with the same brush, just because THEIR father wasn’t perfect.
WOULDN’T TRADE A THING:
In truth, there are NO perfect earthly fathers or mothers. Our parents were not perfect, and neither were their parents.
Confidentially, society–no matter how it may try to ‘spin’ itself–is not perfect as well! But, African American fathers are NOT the problem; they are part of the solution!
America has found out the hard way that famed saying of T. D. Jakes: “A nation of women can not raise up a nation of men!” That became clear on September 11th, 2001 as the nation watched scores of Black and White men–many of them fathers–rush into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon to save lives. Or the Black and White men–many of them fathers–who took on various hijackers on those planes that missed their intended targets.
Those fathers deserve to have peace.
So do the REST of us.
As a father, I’ve had my share of heartaches and headaches, but I wouldn’t trade one of them to be a ‘wise’ critic of fatherhood. To those who like to criticize, but don’t have kids of their own, here’s a novel suggestion: Put aside your selfishness and ‘self-esteem’, get married, and have some kids of your own!
Then, you will understand what I’ve been writing about.
Then, you will understand what your OWN fathers have tried to tell YOU!
Mike Ramey is the author of THE MANHOOD LINE. A syndicated, monthly column, written from a biblical, business, and common sense perspective. Email welcome to manhood line@yahoo.com. ©2002 Mike Ramey/Barnstorm Communications International.
In Praise of Black Fathers
The Black father became the perfect foil for America’s neglect of the Black poor. If Blacks were destitute, it was because Black men deserted the home. If Blacks committed crime, it was because Black men were ignorant and irresponsible. If Blacks took drugs and were abusive, it was because Black men had no sense of self-worth. If they failed it was their own fault.
Many Blacks challenged Moynihan. They accused him of juggling figures, using faulty research methods and of ignoring the three out of four Black men that were not absent fathers. But Moynihan prevailed. Black fathers were now officially labeled “derelict.”
Often myths become reality. The reality for many Black families is that Black men do desert their homes. They make babies that they don’t take care of. They fill the jails and prisons. They join gangs and commit acts of violence. They die young from drugs, alcohol, and disease. From conception to adulthood they are forced to run the gauntlet of American abuses.
That’s part of the story. Many Black fathers do stay in the home. They sacrifice to provide the necessities for their wives and children. They overcome mountainous obstacles to build strong relationships with their loved ones. They roll up their sleeves, put their chin to the grindstone and go forward. Black fathers want their sons to smile into the camera on the sidelines of football games, wave and say, “hi dad.” They are men like my father who, as he nears the ninth decade of his life, looked me in the eye and said, “My children have been my life, never forget that.” I didn’t.
My father stood on the firm foundation of history and tradition. He drew strength from Black leaders like Henry Highland Garnet, Martin Delaney, Frederick Douglass, W.E.B. DuBois, Booker T. Washington, Marcus Garvey, A. Phillip Randolph, Paul Robeson, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, and Elijah Muhammad. Their contributions have enriched not only the Black experience, but America’s social tapestry. They were fathers who never lost sight of the importance of family.
In Black Fatherhood : The Guide to Male Parenting, I talked with fathers who enriched their families. The men I interviewed span several generations. They have different incomes and occupations. They are married, separated, and divorced. They raise their children alone. They know the joy and pain of relationships. They experience poverty and prosperity. They face discrimination. They confront violence, gangs, drugs and sexual risks. They make hard choices about their children’s education, health and welfare. They tell how they are bringing their families through the challenge of American problems.
It is critically important in these difficult days for Black families to have stories that do not talk about defeatism and despair, but about optimism and hope, and most of all about success. We must finally lift the cloak of invisibility from Black fathers.
| Dr. Earl Ofari Hutchinson is Family Digest Media Group’s commentator on issues concerning fatherhood. Dr. Earl Ofari Hutchinson is the author of Black Fatherhood: The Guide to Male Parenting, and The Crisis in Black and Black. Dr. Hutchinson will try to answer all of your questions in Family Digest magazine, Family Digest BABY magazine, or online in this space. Please send Dr. Hutchinson any questions or comments you have about Black Fathers at drhutchinson@familydigest.com |
BLACK FATHERS, INVISIBLE MEN
By Dr. Vernon McClean
Even during the many decades of slavery, black fathers performed. “feminine tasks.”I n the opening paragraph of Ralph Ellison’s “Invisible Man,” published in 1952, the male narrator says that he is invisible “simply because people refuse to see me.” That is, “like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorted glass.” And, “when they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination ñ indeed, everything and anything except me.” This particular brand of invisibility generally characterizes the existence of black fathers in contemporary America.
The role of black fathers is one of the strongest and most important traditions in the black community. There is no question that in their earliest years in the New World enslaved African-Americans were concerned about their fathers. Moreover, their loyalty to their fathers (and mothers) defined the efforts of their white slaveholders to break the family bonds of their slaves.
Belle Hooks, in her “Ain’t I a Woman: Black Women and Feminism” (1988), reminds us that “scholars have emphasized the impact of slavery on the black male consciousness, arguing that black men, more so than black women, were the ëreal’ victims of slavery.” She documents the reality that “sexist historians and sociologists have provided the American public with a perspective on slavery in which the most cruel and de-humanizing impact of slavery on the lives of black people was that black men were stripped of their masculinity, which the psychologists and historians argue resulted in the dissolution and overall disruption of any black familial structure.”
My argument, however, is that rather than being stripped of our masculinity and experiencing “the dissolution and overall disruption of any black familial structure,” black fathers have served the black community well, including in the present.
Even during the many decades of slavery, black fathers performed what men have, often derisively, called “feminine tasks.” Moreover, some psychologists and historians have mislabeled the carrying out of these tasks as constituting a form of “male castration.” They have argued that performing these tasks (such as nurturing and caretaking) amounted to the “victimizations” of black fathers.
My counter-argument is supported by a careful assessment of the functions of fathers, especially those held in slavery, and draws upon slave narratives which clearly demonstrated male participation in such “feminine” roles as those of full-time fathers, nurturers, caretakers and single parents ñ roles which gave full scope to the sentimental abilities of African-American fathers.
A close reading of slave narratives reveals the emotive and caring nature of African-American fathers. For example, Eugene Genovese, in his “Roll, Jordan, Roll” (1978), relates the story of one George Payne of Virginia, who wept when his child was sold away from him. Similarly, Professor Genovese relates the story of another Virginia slave who chopped off his left hand with a hatchet to prevent his being sold away from his child.
These and many other instances point up the reality that, for African-American fathers, the traits of nurturance and devotion, or what sociologists have termed “positive behavioral characteristics,” most definitely were present. If it appears to some that such traits were lacking, this is mainly because these traits have seldom been commented on in the media.
Regarding family and personal relationships, today’s African-American males are no less sensitive than their forefathers. According to one black physician, “black men come to the psychiatrist’s office in large numbers, in pain and genuinely seeking help. They have little or nothing to say about the statistics, myths and other sociological pronouncements so often made about them. Rather, they come in talking about depression, anxiety, frustration, fear, guilt, esteem issues and anger that are most often related to the close, ongoing relationships in their lives.” (Henry E. Edward, “Black Families in Crisis: the Middle Class,” 1988).
As a professor of African-American Studies, I emphasize solutions rather than problems when I teach. Thus, I cannot conclude this essay without advancing some suggestions for supporting black fathers:
- Reach out to black fathers. If you know of a “full-time dad,” give him support, let him know you care and encourage him.
- Take your brother/father to a church, synagogue or mosque. Religion/spirituality is a source of strength for all of us. Too often, because of a false sense of masculinity and machismo, black fathers do not want to acknowledge the need for a Higher Power. Encourage your clergy person to support “full-time dads.”
- If the black father has been abusive, use the occasion to help him discuss this situation. Again, acknowledging the role which sexism has played in our lives, it is difficult for black men to express their emotions. Encourage him to be gentle and loving. Let him know you love him, even if he is not muscular like Mike Tyson or graceful like Michael Jordan.
- Boycott radio stations, talk-show hosts, newspapers and businesses that defame black fathers.
- Oppose further cuts in jobs and social service programs. Defend those programs and policies that allow black fathers to earn the money necessary to provide for their families.
- Encourage “full-time dads” to join a black men’s group, such as those organized in the inner cities. Black men need the support of other black men in order to be good fathers.
- Encourage teachers and professors to discuss the plight of the black father in their classes.
While these suggestions focus on what others can do to help black fathers, there are measures which we as black fathers can do to help ourselves. Black fathers are not entirely blameless in their own oppression. Too often, we are abusive toward black women; a black woman is 16 times more likely to be raped than a white woman. Moreover, we are too often absent as fathers in our families and communities.
Black fathers must therefore understand that black women are their equals. It is easy to blame the black woman for all pathologies in the black comm-unity, since too many of us leave the raising of our children to mothers. And when children commit crimes, we blame the victims: black women and black children.
The positive examples cited in this essay debunk the opinion sometimes voiced by talk shows that black fathers do not care and have never cared about their children. Ironically, this view is sometimes echoed by some black women who assert that “there are no good black men left” and that “they (black men) take after their no-good black fathers.”
The majority of black fathers, however, are still waiting to exhale. That is, we are still waiting for the black media to acknowledge our presence and to write something good about us. Too long we have been invisible.
Dr. Vernon McClean is Professor of African-American Studies at William Paterson University, Wayne, New Jersey, and is a member of the leadership council of The National Organization for Men Against Sexism (NOMAS).
THE MYTH OF THE DEADBEAT DAD
A researcher who interviewed black fathers who don’t live with their kids talks about their surprising views on parenting.
By Suzy Hansen
Aug. 9, 2001
The national controversy over “deadbeat dads” intensified last month when the Wisconsin Supreme Court ordered a man who fathered nine children by four different women to stop having kids until he started supporting them properly. Men, women, liberals and conservatives all feel fairly comfortable in reviling deadbeat dads (that is, fathers who don’t live with their kids and don’t pay child support), but depriving them of a basic human right — reproduction — seemed a little overboard to many, particularly to the three women justices who dissented from the decision. Women, especially those left alone with the financial and emotional burden of parenting, are usually the ones sounding the alarm about absent fathers. The Wisconsin ruling illustrates the conundrum of punishing those who can’t or won’t face up to the role of daddy. There are a lot of unmarried fathers, too; according to the National Center for Health Statistics, one-third of American children are born to an unwed mother.
Low-income fathers are often singled out for being particularly neglectful. But according to Ronald Mincy, a Columbia University professor of social work, we know very little about how low-income, unmarried fathers behave or what they think about fatherhood. Mincy works with a team of researchers atColumbia’s Social Indicators Survey Center who, in partnership with theBendheim-Thoman Center for Research on Child Wellbeing at PrincetonUniversity, are conducting one of the first national studies on fatherlessness. Their Fragile Families and Child Wellbeing Survey follows the unmarried parents of 3,600 children — a representative sample of white, black and Latino couples from 20 U.S. metropolitan areas — from birth until age 4.
“So far, the data does not indicate that during the first three years of the child’s life, most low-income fathers are irresponsible,” Mincy said. “Fathers are helping during the pregnancy, making financial contributions and visiting the child. But over time these informal contributions wane as the relationship between the couple deteriorates. The father becomes discouraged and the mother gets annoyed. The father’s inability to make financial contributions seems part of that deterioration. Static will be introduced in the relationship that will serve to bar fathers from seeing their kids.”
The Fragile Families report fills in many of the gaps surrounding low-income, nonresidential fathers, as will Mincy’s new book, “Fathers, Families and Public Policy,” due out this fall. In her recent book “What It Means to Be Daddy: Fatherhood for Black Men Living Away From Their Children,” Jennifer Hamer looks at how we think about black low-income fathers and, perhaps more provocatively, uses her subjects’ own voices to challenge the simplistic image of the black deadbeat dad. As Hamer writes, black unwed fathers “are often publicly portrayed as unemployed, uneducated and unwilling to provide.”
Statistics affirm that the majority of black children are daddyless. About 70 percent of all African-American births are out of wedlock and over 85 percent of African-American children will spend some years of their childhood without a father in the home.
These are astounding statistics, but Hamer, now an associate professor of sociology at Southern Illinois University at Edwardsville, found that hardly anything had been written about fatherhood from the perspective of black men. Armed with recording equipment and at times accompanied by her own son, Hamer visited car washes, housing projects and Wal-Marts in search of low-income black men willing to talk about what it means to be a daddy. She ended up spending hours with 88 men hailing from places like East Texas,Detroit and North Carolina.
Hamer spoke to Salon from her office in Edwardsville, Ill.
What did you want to add to the discussion about black fatherhood?
Low-income black fathers who have never been married are a group that has been very difficult to access — at least people have argued that that’s why they haven’t been researched. Also, if you look at what we know about black fatherhood, we tend to know it based on interviews with black mothers. Or it’s coming from a very top-down perspective: The researcher comes up with categories about men and then places men in those categories.
This book takes a bottom-up perspective. I go directly to the fathers, and to some of the mothers, and ask them what it’s like to be a black man in theUnited States and to be a father who doesn’t live with his child. We get a completely different perspective of fatherhood when we talk to them directly.
Why are they so hard to track down and how did you find them?
Even the Census has a difficult time getting ahold of low-income black men. I didn’t find it that difficult. I’m African-American and grew up in and out of black communities — I simply went where black men hang out. I would walk through certain neighborhoods. I found them through word of mouth, but I also found an awful lot of fathers simply by walking up to them, say, at a car wash. I did not have that fear of black men that a lot of researchers do, particularly those in low-income neighborhoods or housing projects. Black women live in low-income housing projects so black men are going to be there as well — just not officially.
Do you think that your study is representative of all black fathers?
I was only able to interview 88 fathers. It is representative in the sense that they are all saying the same thing regardless of where they’re coming from. But we would really need a much larger sample to say, yes, this is definitely representative of black fathers in the U.S.
What were the one or two sentiments that all of them seemed to express?
If you were to read most of the limited information out there on black fathers, you would assume that black fathers simply weren’t around and that they didn’t care about their children or the mothers of their children. One of the things that struck me when I first began interviewing was that these black fathers wanted to talk. They actually felt grateful that there was someone interested in listening to them. And they really did care about their children. Just talking about their children would bring tears to their eyes. They talked about how they wished they could have done something different or how they were sorry that the relationship with the mother didn’t work out. They were very conscious of their decisions and of their parenting.
Most people think that, whatever their background, “deadbeat dads” do exist. Did you find yourself coming to that conclusion as you were sitting there with these men?
I have a difficult time looking at the men I interviewed and using the phrase “deadbeat dad.” It’s a lot more complex than that. Certainly, there were fathers who weren’t spending any time with their children — they weren’t providing anything. But if you asked them why, then you’d find out how this came about and how they disengaged from their children. And it’s different for different fathers. It’s not as simple as: He’s a deadbeat dad and he doesn’t care about his kids.
What were their reasons for disengaging from their children?
They decided that they weren’t going to be a father and fatherhood wasn’t for them. But even if they said that, there tended to be other things going on. For example, they didn’t have a lot of support from the mother or the mother’s family. When I learned about their childhood, I learned that they didn’t have support systems. Then there were those who had substance-abuse problems and decided that they just weren’t good fathers. Sometimes they actually encouraged the mothers to find someone else to be a father to their children.
It seems that a lot of them did not think they were good role models for their children or that they did not have the financial means to care for them. Eighty-six percent of them earned less than $20,000 a year. How were these men affected by the idea that a father should be a provider?
They often blamed themselves for not finding work or not finding the perfect job. At the same time that they would say, “I live in a city where there aren’t a lot of jobs”; they would also say, “I could be doing more to get a job,” without realizing that if there are no jobs, it’s pretty difficult to get one. Talking about finances was actually very difficult for these fathers. But it wasn’t very important to them with regard to their relationship with their children. Instead, they said, “The most important thing that I can do for my child is be there, talk to them on the phone, go and see them.” They didn’t talk about their fatherhood in financial or provider terms.
Does this differentiate black fathers from other fathers?
Yes. The Western notion of fatherhood begins with the provider role and everything else follows it. These fathers simply turn that on its head. They have a difficult time with the provider role and that’s something that’s recognized by the mother as well. Instead, they start with the emotional aspect of fatherhood and the expressive element of parenting. If they define themselves in a financial sense, then there’s no way that they could say they were good fathers.
Did the men you interviewed quantify fatherhood in terms of time? For example, would they mention how many days out of the week they see their child?
This is interesting — these fathers actually have a definition of a deadbeat father. Fathers who are involved with their children, regardless of how much they’re involved, recognize that they’re better fathers than those who aren’t involved at all. They do argue that the most important thing that a father can do is spend time with their child. If you’re not doing that, then you’re a “father” but you aren’t a “daddy.” There’s a difference between a father and a daddy.
Did the mothers share the same definition?
Yes, some of the mothers used the same terms.
You write, “Most mothers did not seem to feel it necessary that fathers live in their children’s homes to be good fathers.” Was that surprising?
Increasingly, you will find, particularly among working-class or low-income families, who are beginning to have the same patterns of family structure as black families, that women respond this way: “No, I don’t need this person to live in my home to be a good father.” Especially if it’s a father who’s not working, or is in and out of jail, or perhaps a substance abuser. If you think about it, low-income women couple with low-income men. If you have a low-income father in the house, then the house is still going to be low-income. Even though people get married for love and sexual gratification, it’s still a practical decision. In the case of low-income black families, it’s not always logical to get married.
Why do the fathers say they don’t get married?
Some of the fathers didn’t feel that they were ready for marriage or felt that they weren’t marrying material — meaning that they didn’t have a full-time job. Some weren’t ready to be with one person for a long time. Some of them just didn’t want to marry the mother of the child. Some of them were very young when they met these women and they didn’t feel that they were settled down enough, or they thought that they were too wild. Part of it is finances, but the other part is the meaning of marriage.
Did the mothers share the same reasons for not getting married?
The women also didn’t necessarily want to get married. The families of these mothers were not encouraging marriage either. The mothers were better off staying at home with their own family, where they had financial and social support. They could have the father come into that situation, but, typically, that wouldn’t last long because the fathers would feel like a third wheel in the household.
Did you find that a deteriorating relationship between the mother and father affected how much the father was involved with the child over time? Did the mothers say anything like that?
Yes, relationships between mothers and fathers seemed to influence what men provided. Relationships changed over time. Responses from women seemed to indicate that they encouraged men to be around their children regardless of their relationship and regardless of how much cash the men contributed. Simultaneously, some men argued that mothers kept them away from their children, that they only wanted money, and/or served as gatekeepers.
Nevertheless, it does seem that those who report close or “friendly” relationships with their children’s mother also report spending time with the child — this includes those who shifted from “intimate” to “friendly.” Does this mean that they provided financial contributions on a consistent basis? No, not necessarily. In other words, even when men report spending a significant amount of time with children — weekly visits — this does not mean that they are providing any more or less cash consistently than someone who is not around as much, though most men suggest that they give money when they can. They also report providing children some clothing, food, payment for extracurricular activities and other goods.
What about fathers and mothers who had very antagonistic relationships?
They spoke about difficulties when it came to visitation. The relationship between mothers and fathers may play a significant role in the father’s involvement but it does not suggest that fathers are always completely to blame for their diminished parenting. Fathers also reported increased difficulties with visitation when they are in other relationships, have substance-abuse problems or have transportation problems. All of these may actually contribute to a deteriorating relationship, not only between mothers and fathers but between fathers and children as well.
One of the interesting things about the book is that it brought out details like the difficulties of transportation.
Whenever you’re talking about low-income families, transportation is always important — whether they’re talking about getting to see their child, getting to their job or getting to their classes. If they had to take a job across town, then that would mean they would see their child less because by the time the father got home, the child would be going to bed. Not only that, but the father would be exhausted and not feel like being around anyone, even though they might love their child and want to spend time with them.
Do you believe that this single mother/nonresidential father family structure has been institutionalized?
This family structure is more pronounced among African-American families, but we also see it more pronounced among low-income families. African-Americans are disproportionately poor. Increasingly, we’re beginning to see it among white families as well. It’s just an institutionalized family structure whether we want to recognize it that way or not. We have a system that encourages it.
But you write that black men often bear the weight of the stereotype in public perception. Why do you think that is so?
These negative stereotypes are used to justify treating certain groups in certain ways. It goes back to slavery. Historically, black men have never really had access to living-wage employment, so how does the dominant group justify not providing that access? Through these negative images. We still have them today: Black men are lazy, they’re drug abusers, all they want to do is gamble, all they want to do is drink. It’s much easier to say that it’s their fault so we don’t have to change the system.
Did most of the men you interviewed have a goal or desire to achieve a certain type of relationship — emotional or financial — with their child? Or did they seem disillusioned about what they could do for them?
No, I would say the majority of them were optimistic and felt good about their relationship with their children. They actually did have very high hopes for their children and saw themselves contributing to their children’s lives throughout their lifetime. Essentially, they were very optimistic about their children’s future and more realistic about their own. These fathers just wanted a full-time stable job that would pay them enough money to buy a car or buy a house. They wanted to work for places like Coca-Cola, Boeing, the post office — jobs that they know are stable.
What did they regret?
Many of them say there are things they could do differently. If you asked these fathers what would be the optimal environment for their child, their answer would be to have a mother and a father living in the home. The mothers would say that too: In a perfect world, all children should live with their mother and father. But at the same time they would say that is not reality.
By the end of the book, you seem to say that what has to change is the financial situations of these men.
Basically, the government is saying that fathers need to be providers. Well, if we want fathers to be providers, then we have to give them access to living-wage employment. Men and women want to get married. But they’re not going to get married if they don’t have a job. And if they did, it would be a very contentious relationship because a lack of stable employment creates conflict in a relationship.
If we don’t measure fatherhood by men’s financial contributions, then how would you propose that we do it?
We need to think about how we think about fathers and what we expect fathers to do. I don’t have the answer for how we would measure fatherhood outside of finances. But children need more in their lives than just money or a check every month. If we really want to encourage fathers to be there for their children, then we need to encourage a relationship between the mother and the father, not necessarily a marital one, but one that enhances the well-being of the children.
Why do you believe that faith-based initiatives can help support these relationships?
They’re one avenue. It’s the easiest at this moment. In black communities, churches are already present, so if we want to do something quickly, then we already have a network of faith-based organizations out there. Many of them have programs, but it’s a matter of managing and expanding the programs that bring mothers and fathers together for their children.
So marriage isn’t the answer?
I don’t assume that men and women have to be married or living together to produce a healthy child, but they do need to learn how to work together and we don’t have a system that encourages that.
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About the writer
Suzy Hansen is an assistant editor at Salon.
Black fathers:an invisible presence in America
By Michael E. Connor & Joseph L. White
In the parlance of social psychology, social work, and urban social scientists, African American fathers have often been described as “absent,” “missing,” “non-residential,” “non-custodial,” “unavailable,” “non-married,” “irresponsible,” and “immature.” It is wondered why it is/was so difficult to find literature, research, and comments regarding positive attributes of African American families in general and African American fathers in particular. This book fills a void in attempting to offer a broader picture regarding the status of African American males in a father role. The purpose is to get beyond the African American father “invisibility” syndrome and gloom and doom pathology oriented labels and tell another side of the story about the power of fathering in the African American experience. The book brings these “invisible” social and biological fathers to life by telling their stories and letting the reader hear and feel the vibrancy of their voices as they struggle to meet the challenges of being fathers and Black men in America.
