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Stereotypes about Black dads are harmful. My husband showed our sons how to become adults

When my oldest son went to the aid of a helpless, homeless woman being pummeled by a gang of teenagers, it was as if he was channeling his father — my late husband, Ceaser — who would have done the same thing.

I’m his mom so of course I’m proud of him, but I’m not surprised because it’s behavior he learned from his dad.

A pulmonary embolism took Ceaser from us too soon in 2010 when our sons, Ceaser (“Trey”) and Jordan, were 19 and 14. A very engaged dad, Ceaser raised our boys to be compassionate, helping others in need, and intervening, when possible, to ease another’s suffering. In other words, to be humane, moral men, because that’s who he was: a good dad, like so many other Black men.

We often hear the trope that Black men are not good fathers because they are absent or not involved with rearing their children.

A sadly familiar refrain from apologists for systems that oppress Black Americans is that the troubles of the Black community stem in large part from absent fathers.

That there have been absent Black fathers should come as no surprise given the extraordinary burdens and obstacles that racism has placed on them throughout our nation’s history. Over many generations, this country forcefully separated Black families and excluded them from an equitable workforce, housing and economic aid programs such as the GI Bill. Law enforcement disproportionately targeted Black men and women for criminal offenses. Under those circumstances, criticizing the state of Black familial structure is a bit like calling someone a slowpoke after you’ve hobbled them.

Charles M. Blow put it this way in The New York Times:

“It has always seemed to me that embedded in the ‘If only Black men would marry the women they have babies with …’ rhetoric was a more insidious suggestion: that there is something fundamental, and intrinsic about Black men that is flawed, that Black fathers are pathologically prone to desertion of their offspring and therefore largely responsible for Black community ‘dysfunction.’ There is an astounding amount of mythology loaded into this stereotype, one that echoes a history of efforts to rob Black masculinity of honor and fidelity.”

My son’s encounter last weekend was yet another reminder of a far different and better narrative: There are many Black fathers, I dare say most, doing their darndest and succeeding at raising good men. They rarely ever get the mention they deserve.

Well, today, I’m their huckleberry.

Son stopped teens attacking homeless woman

At first, Ceaser was terrified of fatherhood. He said he had no idea how to do the job. Just be the man you are, I told him, and they will see you, mirror you.

I can’t count the number of times Ceaser showed compassion in the presence of his sons. He would stop to give a ride to someone struggling in the rain, lugging groceries. More than once our family shared lunch with someone Ceaser had seen down-and-out on the street.

Once, on vacation in downtown Buffalo, New York, we came upon a man — apparently homeless, perhaps intoxicated — sitting on the side of the road, weeping while blood trickled down his forehead. People walked by him. I walked by him. But Ceaser stopped.

“Hey brother,” he said, because he called everyone brother or sister. “What’s the problem? How can I help?” After talking with the man, Ceaser walked him (with us following) over to City Hall, where he got a city worker and medical personnel to help the man. It was the right thing to do. His sons saw that and lots of similar situations, and their father’s example wasn’t lost on them.

Trey is a journalist, like his dad, and lives in New York. He noticed a woman on the subway talking incoherently to herself — which, he said, clearly annoyed some passengers. About five or six teens stood near her. He thinks she might have said something that they did not like. Right there in the subway car, they knocked her to the ground and began yelling and hitting her as she curled into a fetal position.

When the disturbance erupted, passengers ran into another subway car. Not Trey. He walked to the teens. He told them, “Please stop. She’s down. It’s over.” He wasn’t yelling, but they heard him, stopped the beating and ran. He stayed to make sure the woman wasn’t badly hurt. He told me later that he wasn’t sure why he walked toward the problem. He agreed it’s exactly what his father would have done.

I feel compelled to tell this story to counter a dangerous narrative from those who weaponize studies, such as 10-year-old data from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention showing that in more than 70% of births to Black women, the mothers were unmarried. People twist the data to conclude that Black fathers are failing their children. False. One does not have to be married to a woman to be a good father to his children. That’s true no matter the race or ethnicity of the father.

Unmarried fathers not necessarily uninvolved

Yes, there are bad fathers out there, but that criticism is not reserved for Black men.

Lest you think I’m whining about nothing, almost every time I’ve ever written a piece discussing challenges faced by young Black men in America, I have gotten emails protesting the role of racism and instead accusing Black men of being bad fathers.

In April 2021, after a piece about how Black moms worry their sons may cross paths with a bad cop and become a victim of police brutality, I received this email: “Today I read your article — these are my truly loving thoughts. Where is your son’s father?”

The letter writer said a pastor friend told him that as many as 90% of his congregants in a mostly Black church did not know the name of their biological father, and neither did the moms. (I don’t believe a pastor said that.) The writer said: “Then I understood the elephant in the room — street gangs become the de facto father. Until Black women learn to say no and Black men learn to take responsibility, the elephant in the room will always prevail — it is not a police problem. It is so sad but so true — grandma will never replace daddy.”

Ceaser and I were together until his death. But, yes, a lot of Black fathers do not live in the home with their biological children — a fact of life for many of America’s dads. But being absent from the home is not being absent from a child’s life. Roughly 59% of white fathers living apart from their children see those children monthly or more. That percentage is higher — 67% — for Black fathers, according to the Pew Research Center. So there’s that.

My sons had a great dad, and I know many other great dads of Black children, living with them or not, but involved and impressing on them what it means to be an engaged family member and citizen.

I wonder whether anyone blames all white fathers for the abhorrent behavior of the white teens my son stopped from pummeling the homeless Black lady in the subway. Where were their dads?