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![]() I Won't Be Looking Forward to Next Father's DayFather's Day is a special time when deserving dads are fussed over and get much-needed recognition from their children for being the best. But for me, each Father's Day has left something desired.
I grew up without a father. Yes, I had father figures in my life. There were two uncles, and a schoolteacher who would look after me when things got tough. But it was never the same as having my real father there for me. My mom and grandmother did their best to be both mother and father, but I was still missing my other half. It might be wishful thinking, but to this day, I feel that if I had my father around, I wouldn't have gone through some of the struggles I had growing up. I would have had someone to throw the ball around with. Someone to tell me about the birds and the bees and how girls would one day rule your life. And, of course, the annual father-and-son days at school when you get to tell your friends what your dad does for a living. But sadly, in the Washington, D.C., neighborhood where I grew up, near McKinley High School, many of my friends didn't have fathers around to do any of those things either. Perhaps it was this common bond that drew us together. Whatever it was, it followed me throughout my life. Feelings of emptiness, not belonging and being incomplete were tough on me, especially during adolescence. Instead of expressing my feelings, I kept them bottled up -- until I saw a movie. Around Christmas I went to see "Antwone Fisher," a tumultuous true story about a Navy sailor with major psychological problems eventually traced to his troubled childhood. He grew up without his biological mother or father and suffered mental, physical and sexual abuse from his foster family.
What happened late in the movie affected me most. When Antwone returned to search for his roots and found that his mother was the only one of his parents still alive, he confronted her with the questions every child ponders when left behind by a parent. Questions like, “Did you ever love me, think of me or ever wonder how I was doing?” Without getting the answers, Antwone proclaims that he did all right for himself. He turned out well and is making something of his life. He kisses her cheek before leaving. I was in tears, and to my surprise, so were the other moviegoers. It was from "Antwone" that I got the motivation to reach out to my father. My graduation from Howard University was fast approaching and I wanted terribly for us to arrive at a point where I would invite him to attend the ceremony. Or maybe not. But I had nothing to lose. If it didn't work out, I was a big boy now and would be ok. I told my mom about my intentions and asked that she quickly contact him or his family and tell them that Troy was looking for him. We didn't move quickly enough because soon after the search began, he died. I mourned, but not for the man. Instead, it was for the dreams of the past and the hopes I had for the future. Regrettably, the attitude of several of his family members toward me was unpleasant, to say the least. Questions about paternity dominated conversations with them, even at my father's funeral. But my mother, who should know, said there is no doubt who my father is. I believe her. If there is a silver lining, it is that after years of being the only child, I apparently have half-brothers. Perhaps one day we can get to know each other. My point here is that despite my pain, distrust, disdain and anger, I was able to put them aside long enough to reach out to my father, something he should have done years ago. Still, something said not to let that stop me from trying. He left this world before I could confront him the way "Antwone" did his mother. But I do have the satisfaction of knowing that I made an attempt, and that it was his loss for not moving more quickly to get to know me. I did pretty damned good for myself as well. Let me offer this bit of advice. If you're a parent and you're not taking an active role in your children’s lives, start now. It is unconscionable to help create life and then deny it. Think of what it's doing to your child. Your offspring are dying silent deaths inside and becoming emotionally inept because of your absence. Then the cycle continues. Time is not promised to everyone. For me, it was too late for my father to get to know me. But don't let his lesson be yours. Posted June 23, 2003 |
In VoicesA Diversity of Voices, Views Enriches the Learning Experience Students Learn Some Journalism Problems are Universal |
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