BDC member enjoying time with his kids

By Colwyn Burchall Jr.

Fathers are important, for so many reasons. The BDC asks that you take a moment to read this article from New York Daily News, which cites various studies that provide compelling evidence for what – to us, at least – ought to be a self-evident truth: Dads matter and play a significant role in the development of happy, emotionally healthy children.

Let us recommit to being fully present in the lives of our children – all day, every day.

Neil ‘Logik’ Donaldson

I don’t even know where to begin.

I’ll start by saying this: being raised by a strong Black woman has taught me a lot about patience, responsibility and values – standing your ground, compassion and, most importantly, unconditional love, especially when it comes to family and parenting. As far back as I could remember, my mother has always made it very clear that if I were to have a child, I would be an active father in that child’s life.

There would be no excuses. Whether or not I was with the mother was beside the point.

Hand in hand with my mother’s expectations were the countless stories from many of my female friends outlining the traumatic effects on their lives as a result of absent fathers. Many of these stories broke my heart, since I look up to many of these women and I consider them to be some of the strongest people I know.

I’ve been blessed to know my father and have him in my life, but I never had the privilege of seeing my parents as a couple, even though they got along fairly well. I guess as children, we always have it in the back of our minds that maybe one day they could get back together and we all could be a “real” family, you know what I mean? Based on those thoughts, I always imagined that when I have children it would be different. It has to be different.

Now that I’m here, it didn’t really turn out like how I intended.

Besides my close friends and family, many of my peers might be learning for the first time that I now have a 19 month-old daughter named Aaliyah. Since I am a reserved person, it’s a somewhat difficult topic for me to speak about. I don’t like the feeling of vulnerability and people all up in my business – just keep it one hundred with you – but since I’m now a member of the Black Daddies Club, if what I have to say can help foster encouragement, dialogue and solidarity amongst Black fathers, I’m all for it.

For me, fatherhood began with a text message, followed by me making a thirty minute, long-distance call. Someone whom I hadn’t heard from in about two months now tells me she’s two months pregnant with my child.

The mother of my child lives in Montreal. I never ran and never will run from my responsibilities but I have to admit, it did prompt many serious questions, like: why haven’t I heard from you in so long? How can you be two months pregnant and not know till now?

Are you sure I’m the father?

Finding out that she had been ‘having relations’ with other men from Toronto wasn’t helping my paranoia, either. Speaking openly about my daughter is a sensitive topic for me because essentially, I am mad at myself. Mad in the sense of being in this predicament with someone who I don’t really know and who doesn’t understand me at all but what angers me the most is having a child in another province. I feel helpless…like my soul is being held hostage. On top of that, my daughter’s mother made it made very clear, well before my daughter was even born, that as a parent I have no rights -especially since I live out of province.

Now, I don’t have any regrets. God doesn’t make mistakes. Going through these trials and tribulations have already made me a much stronger and more compassionate person. In reality, I could go off about not having a healthy and honest relationship with my child’s mother. The countless e-mail arguments; jumping on a plane in fear that I would miss the most important moment of my life, only to be kicked out of the hospital the same day she was born, for no real reason at all; paying monthly child support and then being taken to family court over a six month period – in Montreal – for more funds, only to realize that I was already giving too much money…the list goes on and on, but it’s not my intention to turn this journal entry into a pity party. It’s about moving forward and ensuring that I can make a positive impact in my daughter’s life. It’s about having her know that, at the end of the day, she is loved very much by both parents.

She needs me in her life…but I need her in mine even more.

My journey into fatherhood had made me regularly question many things about myself, such as my treatment of women, my priorities, controlling my emotions and choosing my words carefully. I ask myself: how can I authentically father my daughter when I can’t physically be around all the time, and not feel like a funder doing a site visit and waiting on weekly reports? At times, I find myself being overwhelmed by anxiety to the point that it affects everything I do. So if you see me in a daze you now know why.

Luckily, I’ve recently hammered out an agreement with my work that allows me to be able to spend a week in Montreal per month so that I can establish a tangible relationship with my baby girl. I can’t overstate the amount of love and support I feel in my working environment – I really don’t know what I would do without them.

I’ve also been blessed with the fact that one of my younger brothers now lives in Montreal and is studying at Concordia University. I don’t know what I would have done in terms of having a place to stay and having a piece of home away from home. God works in mysterious ways…for real.

Every visit to see Aaliyah is like introducing myself to her for the first time. She looks at me with a vague sense of familiarity and is distant but, after about an hour or two, she opens up to me. It’s difficult since right away I want to pick her up hold her, kiss her and have her fall asleep in my arms, but at the same time I don’t want to disrupt her routine and environment, so I wait patiently till she’s is ready. Every time I see my daughter, there’s so much growth in her features and characteristics that it’s unreal. I truly see myself in her.

I know that I’m missing out on a lot of the little things, especially now that’s she’s walking, so when I’m with her I shoot many videos and take a bunch of photographs to keep the memories strong. I can even recall before my child was born, taking a Via Rail train to Montreal for a few hours just so that I could be present for an ultrasound appointment and of course, to collect photographs.

That’s how much I cherish every moment.

As someone who is involved in the youth services/organizing sector, I’ve been starting to feel a bit hypocritical, in the sense that I have a strong desire to see our community and youth do better, but now that I have a child who I barely get to see, my perspective on things has changed drastically. I know that I’m doing the best I can with what I have, but a lot of the time it doesn’t feel like my best is good enough.

I often beat myself up, which doesn’t help anything.

At the end of the day, all I can do is take one day at a time. I know that as Aaliyah grows, our bond will become stronger. I also expect that the visits will increase from the current ‘policy’ of having her in the city once a year every August (not my choice). I find myself bumping Stephen Marley’s song “Hey Baby” on the regular. Lyrics like “Hey baby don’t you worry/ even though the road is rocky/ I’ll be coming home to you again” really speak to me in this context and have kept me encouraged and motivated.

I just want to close by saying to all the fathers out there who live in the same city as their children and know they have regular, drama-free access to their children, but choose not be involved with their children – I envy you. I wish I had it that easy. I seriously don’t know how you guys sleep at night. Maybe you think the mother(s) are already doing a good enough job and you are not needed or maybe the two of you don’t get along and have grown apart. Whatever it is – whether you’ve been away for months, or even years – your children need you more then you’ll ever know. Doesn’t matter if they are still young or they are full grown adults.

It’s never too late to make that change, my brothers.

It’s never too late…..

About: Neil Donaldson (aka ‘Logik’) is 28 years old. He is the co-founder of ‘Stolen From Africa’ a Global movement that promotes cultural and historical awareness via Fashion, Alternative media, Music and Dialogue. He is also the Media Coordinator for the Grassroots Youth Collaborative and is the Toronto Representative for Hip-Hop Canada. Media links:  http://www.twitter.com/sfamedia, http://stolenfromafrica.com.

J Wyze is a writer, poet, emcee, radio host...and father

By J Wyze

My daughter was born a little early.  Even before she left her mother’s womb, the doctor said he was ‘a bit concerned’ that her heart wasn’t beating fast enough, and then, that it was beating too fast.  As her father, I knew I had to do something (and mommy was already doing all the hard work), so I prayed with all the passion of a new disciple.

Please God, protect my child.

Shiann came out healthy, but too small for me to participate in the usual rituals of chord cutting or holding her in my arms for a while in the delivery room.  Instead, she was given a few, precious seconds with her mother, then rushed off to be stuck with tubes and placed in an incubator.  I’ll never forget looking at her through the glass, wired up like some bionic baby, tiny brown limbs looking as if they might break if you held them too tightly.

Those moments taught me just how precious, how delicate this thing we call parenthood is and gave me a glimpse at how easily the privilege could be taken away.  A week and a half later, we were bringing her home.  By then she had put on the necessary size and weight and (contrary to what we were told would happen) was on pace developmentally with her age mates.

Fatherhood is a blessing…and a challenge.

A few weeks ago, I woke up feeling a little run down.  The effects of a long day, capped by a late night studio session after the radio show were combining with a 7 a.m. wake-up time to make my head, arms and legs seem as if they were made from lead.  I started grumbling to myself about never getting a chance to sleep in when I heard my three year-old son going down the stairs, repeatedly reciting a rhythmic phrase.  It took me a few listens to figure out what he was saying, but when it hit me I felt more energy than a dozen cases of Red Bull could provide.  “Say it loud, I’m Black and I’m proud!”

He was singing James Brown!

About a week earlier, we were setting up the brand new Wii.  Everybody was designing their avatars, customizing them so that there was a basic resemblance between themselves and their onscreen identities.  To my quiet dismay, my son created a character that had blond hair, blue eyes and pale skin.  Although there’s nothing wrong with that, in and of itself, I wondered if it wasn’t a subtle rejection of his own brown eyes and skin and black hair.  I made up my mind that it was time to do some identity reinforcement.

The next day I showed him the James Brown video and tried to get him to sing the hook with me.  He refused.  I let it be.  After all, the pyramids weren’t built in a day, and there are a lot of other symbols of cultural pride scattered throughout the house.  Besides, I didn’t want to force it on him so that he felt the need to rebel.  Over the following days I played it for him only once more, and I scrapped trying to get him to sing it.  Actually, I took my father’s advice.  Just give it to them so that they have it, then don’t worry.  They’ll use it when they need it. Pops was right – they use it when they need it.

What he didn’t mention was that, every now and then, they’ll use it to help you…..

J Wyze is a writer, poet, emcee and radio host.  Born in Antigua, he also lived in Bermuda before moving to Toronto, Canada in 1989.  Since then J Wyze has distinguished himself as the dynamic force behind Flow 93.5 FM’s Trauma Unit.  As a key member of the Soul Controllers crew, he has a radio background that includes once hosting Canada’s longest running Hip-hop show (The Masterplan 89.5 fm) and stints on internet radio.  His poetry is featured on various albums and compilations as well as in several anthologies and as a part of two University courses.  An article he wrote on voting for the Toronto Star has been used in high school, Civics textbooks across Canada.  You can check him out now as a solo artist and a part of the groundbreaking Hip-hop collective, Crown A’ Thornz.

Helen Tewolde, winner of a New Pioneers Awards for community service

By Samuel Getachew

The great Albert Einstein may have described insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. But the Greater Toronto Civic Action Alliance and the Maytree Foundation are aiming to do something completely different in order to expect something totally different.

For a third year in a row, they have chosen 25 ambitious and gifted community builders to take part in a year-long fellowship of leadership and networking programs. Among the 25 Torontonians to take part in this great program are three African Canadians,  truly some of Toronto’s unsung heroes.

Social activist Helen Tewolde, winner of a New Pioneers Awards for community service, began her activism in earnest. She has served the United Way as a community grant developer for youth and currently serves as a Community Development Officer for the City of Toronto. She has been passionate on immigrant and refugee rights, HIV/AIDS education and international development. In accepting a Cressy Award from the University of Toronto in 2009, she described her journey as an “ambition to focus on learning and practising leadership in new and challenging contexts.”

Human Rights activist Michael Went is a Senior Municipal Financial Advisor at the Ontario Ministry of Municipal Affairs and Housing. He has been a great fixture at Pride Toronto, an organization that celebrates diversity among the LGBT community. He is a member of an advisory committee panel that makes recommendations to Pride Toronto along with his mentor, the great Rev. Dr. Brent Hawkes. He also serves as a Treasurer and board member at Black Cap, an organization that works to reduce and advocate for HIV/AIDS issues among Black, African and Caribbean communities.

Brandon Hay of Black Daddies Club has been playing such a strong and passionate part in solving the issue of absent fatherhood and guns in the black community for a number of years. Motivated by a personal tragedy, his father was shot dead, he once told the Toronto Star that “there is no point simply trying to fix problems in one’s own family or home; ills in the broader community are just as important.” Through his club, he has organized workshops, a visit to detention centers to give young detainees role models to emulate and has been an inspiring public speaker around Toronto. He is also a regular contributor to swaymag.ca

The idea of DiverseCity was the brain child of David Pecaut who headed the then Toronto City Summit Alliance. From his death bed, he wrote a passionate letter to Torontonians to imagine “a city where civic entrepreneurs are everywhere and the process of bringing all the parts of civil society together to solve a problem is really how the city defines its uniqueness.” I have no doubt these three will play that unique role in the future leadership of our great city.

By Khalid Pottinger

Fear.

Yes, fear would be the first word that comes to mind. And not a fear that I had experienced before, either. This was new…and terrifying.

I knew that I loved my woman. And I knew that I loved kids…especially when they can go back to their house! But dude, I am twenty-one. Let’s be real. The most important things to me at the time were getting the flyest pair of Air Max and essentially looking out for myself. Something I could barely do, and barely did. So the thought of being responsible for another life and having to nurture that person into a better person than myself was daunting, to say the least.

It’s not like I didn’t know the source of the fear. My father and I didn’t have the greatest relationship. I did know him, I just never knew him. He was around, but not when things got real. Not when, as a young Black male, I needed a strong Black male adult who has been there to help me to navigate the minefield that is ahead.

Fortunately, I had a bunch of excellent male role models. My mother was the oldest and only female in a family of six children and my uncles stepped up to fill the ‘father’ role. Looking back now, I thank them for even attempting to guide me because – truth be told -I was a hard head. I thought I knew everything.

What I did know is that I didn’t want to be a statistic. I was going to make an attempt at creating a family. It was hard and, frankly, I was a kid myself. I didn’t have the right priorities and didn’t have much of an idea of what life was really about, but becoming a father was the best thing that could have happened to me.

I didn’t know that it was possible to experience love like that, in an instant, as soon as I saw her little brown face. It would have been easier to not be there, and I am being honest. It was easy for people who I didn’t know to believe I wasn’t going to be there. The stereotype goes something like this: I am a Black male. Therefore, I don’t need to stay with my kids and take responsibility. That in itself is an issue.

Here’s a little anecdote to illustrate my point: I had just begun a new job. It was my second or third day. I am doing my thing, cracking jokes and trying to get acquainted with my co-workers. And, as I often do, I talked about my daughter. Suddenly, I’m hit with a question that I wasn’t expecting: “How often do you see your kids?”

How often do I see my kids?

Really? Are you for real, dude? I respond, “Just as often as you see yours.”  But I have to wonder…if my eyes were a shade of hazel or blue and not dark brown, and if my skin was, say, a tad more ‘Anglo Saxon’, would he even ask me that? Why did he make that assumption right off the bat?

Well, he made that assumption because we make that assumption. I had to really think about that. We all should think about why we make that assumption and why we accept it.

And why we need to break the cycle.

-       Khalid Pottinger

In case you wanted to know, I have a boy and a girl now – and we are still a family unit.

We don`t do statistics in this house.

Khalid Pottinger is a Scarborough born and raised writer. He is the proud father of two.  In addition to working with the Black Daddies Club, he is also involved in the launch of the Yeah Foundation, a not-for-profit organization dedicated to empowering marginalized and at risk youth through arts, education and health.

Where to begin…..

I cannot express in words the amount of joy and happiness being a father has brought me, let alone the fulfilling experience of fathering two extremely talented and beautiful young girls – this despite all the negative remarks from non-parental ‘experts’ who’d claim that to raise young women, one simply required inhuman patience and a boyfriend-thwarting shotgun.

Still, had I known during the rambunctious and explorative years of my adolescence that my initiation into the roaring twenties would also welcome me into fatherhood, I might have better prepared myself for the indescribable shock of becoming a young, Black daddy, and soon thereafter a single young, Black daddy. But, as life inevitably illustrates, preparedness is rarely an available cushion for lessons that are best learned the hard way.

And by ‘the hard way’, I mean: the grim realization that often,  broken homes are cyclical within the Black community; that the Canadian family court system is little more than a biased bureaucracy meant to reinforce ethnic stereotypes, relegate Black  males to the roles of child support payer and weekend caregiver, and corner fathers who merely seek the same rights as mothers into playing the counterproductive ‘see you in court’ game; and that we govern our own choices and actions, and therefore, must accept responsibility for them and any consequences that follow.

Clearly, these sobering truths are not the easiest pills to swallow, especially when they are encountered during one’s libido-driven youth. But, the noble and strong-willed endure, while the cowardly and weak-willed endow their children with the unfortunate status of being a statistic – a vulnerable demographic that they themselves were likely unable to escape.  It is in defiance of the rising tide of fatherlessness in our community, which threatens to consume yet another generation of vulnerable Black youth, that the Black Daddies Club currently stands.

I value my parenthood. I see the worth of my investment in the younger generation. I even appreciate my childish mistakes, as they helped me to formulate my opinions of myself and of the world around me. Over time, my daughters ‘birthed’ in me a whole new respect for the opposite gender that has forever changed the way that I interact with women. I can say, without the slightest hint of condescension, that many of my single, childless friends have not yet fully grasped this wisdom. But boys will be boys…and Men will be Men. And considering myself to be 95% Man (for every man is entitled to be at least 5% boy, isn’t he?), I’d like to think that I’ve done fairly well in terms of providing for my children and setting a strong example from which they can learn.

A wise and honorable man who, at an earlier period in his life, went through similar domestic trials as I with a powerful woman whom I love dearly and happen to call mum, showed me that there is nothing  absolutely nothing – that can separate a man from his children. Funny thing is, he never had to say it…he simply became living proof.

To all the single Black daddies out there, I leave you with these heartfelt words of encouragement: be strong and loyal to your children and things will only get better.  And keep your heads up, Brothers…keep your heads up!

About the Author

Ekow Nimako is a Montreal born, Toronto raised writer, musician, teacher and visual artist. He is the proud father of two, and plans to have his first gothic fantasy novel published within the next year. He currently resides in Parkdale where he teaches music and spends his spare time reading and painting on walls.

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What does it feel like to be unemployed for a year? Well, to be honest, I feel like I am pretty low in terms of self-esteem. I have been looking for work for the last year; however, with some college under my belt, I don’t feel like I am what employers are looking for. When I do go for job interviews, nine times out of ten it’s at some dive where they want me to go door-to-door to peddle gas or sell something to people that they don’t need. I have tried employment agencies, but it seems that the only jobs they have for men like me are factory jobs.

Don’t get me wrong – I am not afraid of working, but my experience working in a factory setting has been, shall we say, less than desirable. I have had bosses who treat their employees like garbage, because they are usually working with people who are new immigrants and don’t know much better (in terms of what should be expected in a proper working environment).

On the home front, it has been extremely stressful. My wife is left with to manage the majority of the bills, on top of making sure that the kids (2 girls) have a good Christmas. I know she loves me; however, I can’t help but feel ashamed and wonder if she would be better off without me.

To put it bluntly, I don’t feel like a man.

I am not providing and I don’t feel like a role model to my kids. I feel like I don’t want them to grow up seeing me in this position and feeling that it’s okay for me not to be working. I know my mother-in-law must be thinking I wish this deadbeat didn’t marry my daughter.

My wife and I have been married for a 5 years and I can now understand why they say the number one reason for divorce is due to money worries. With money being tight this last year, it should come as no surprise that we have had many arguments related to finances.

My self-esteem has been taking a beating, and not because of what anyone says, but because of my expectation of what I think my role as the man of the house should be. I should be in a position to build a nest; my wife shouldn’t be working and bringing in all the bacon! And I am pretty sure that my neighbors and the people at my kids’ daycare think I am a bum. When I go to pick them up (wearing my jogging suits), I wonder if they ever think to themselves, does this guy work?

And then there’s the cheating.

You might ask yourself, cheating? Why is this dude cheating? Well, it’s quite simple: you see, because my self-esteem was so low, I looked for gratification and pleasure whenever and wherever I could find it. It started with me being home and in the dark. I would go onto porn sites and start to masturbate and that quickly grew into an insatiable appetite for sex that I couldn’t ignore. This then translated into cheating, because I had so much time on my hands and my wife, after working long hours, couldn’t be the sex slave that I craved. And a part of me felt that my wife was falling out of love with me or maybe not finding me as attractive because I was unemployed. I found sex elsewhere, and this was the kind of sex I was looking for (the rough sex that I saw on porn).

This was causing a major issue in the marriage and my mind because I was coming home at 4 a.m. from seeing one of my mistresses and the cheating – not surprisingly – wasn’t making me feel happy. Depression then set in and I have been in and out of depression for the last few months. I seek escape through smoking weed and drinking, which have sunk me deeper into a place of despair and anger.

But a new year is almost here! I am keeping my faith alive that 2011 will be a better one, but as of now, I am just not sure what lies ahead.

About the Author

The author wanted to remain anonymous for his own reasons (and we respect that), but doesn’t mind to share that he is a father of 2 young girls, he resides in Montreal, Quebec. He is like many men that we know going through their own challenges due to the recession, Black Daddies Club is grateful for his sincere words and is sending him positive vibes to get though this rough period in his life.

Victor with his kids at a Toronto FC game for a BDC Daddies and Me event.

Dr. Molefi Asante defines Africentricity as “a mode of thought and action in which the centrality of African interests, values, and perspectives predominate. In regards to theory, it is the placing of African people in the centre of any analysis of African phenomena.” As a husband and father to three beautiful children, I am truly blessed to be able to play such an important role in helping to shape their lives in this challenging and complex world. I recently wrote the following words in my daily planner:

“Ancestral accountability is the premise of all parental and social responsibility for an African-Canadian Father. For me, the nurturing of and caring for healthy children begins with the full understanding and acceptance of the implications of a healthy and a balanced family that is contributing to the overall health of the African-Canadian community.”

Successful early childhood development can positively transform communities, cities and countries. African-Canadian fathers in Toronto remain in a constant state of war with the stereotypical generalizations associated with black fathers, such as misnomers like ‘baby daddies’, as well as the negative media portrayal of black fathers as neglectful and irresponsible. However – and in spite of the inevitable attacks on our ability to father our children – the call of black fatherhood must transcend personal ambitions and remain rooted in the notion that our future leaders (the children) must be prepared and courageous….

There are many social factors that contribute to family problems and dysfunctional fatherhood in our community, such as racism against African-Canadian men; unemployment; shattered self-image; poor community support structures for men; damaging media stereotypes; the dearth of positive, Black male role models; the disintegration of the values system that sustained us in Africa; and a lack of personal responsibility by some Black men. Yet, despite these and other considerable challenges, there are still many inspiring and persistent examples of healthy, balanced, responsible fatherhood all across the African-Canadian community.

As a 27-year-old father of three children, I often reminisce on my lessons.

My father taught me – among many other important life lessons – to be early if you can’t be on time, the correct way to treat a woman and to have a relentless work ethic. My Ancestors continue to inspire me because of their resilience and valor. How can I articulate these principles to my children if I am absent? The plight of the African-Canadian community can be critically analyzed from multiple perspectives related to social and systemic barriers, colonization, and misrepresentation through the electronic and print media. For all these reasons and more, the struggle to redeem black fatherhood must be waged on multiple fronts.

Victor with his wife

African-Canadian fathers must ensure that they have the tools and supports to be healthy and culturally competent to raise their children. I believe that a strong family matrix and good support system, a sound knowledge of self and a healthy values-based approach form the foundation of effective fatherhood. The positive, productive and respectful relationship with the African woman is at the core of African-centered fatherhood. An African-centered father must remain the prime example of how to reflect and reciprocate the leadership of African women. The value system that children should be exposed to must highlight the importance of sharing, respect for elders, love of learning, commitment to excellence in everything, an African worldview, a healthy African identity and self-image, and a positive, winning mentality.

Toronto is crying out for the African-Canadian father to stand up and not only announce but to loudly (and unapologetically) declare our presence and our ability to support and assist the marginalized and under-served communities throughout our great city. A true African-centered father knows that the children in his home are not the only children he must raise. The young man getting on the TTC with his hat covering his eyes might need mentoring and support. The boy crossing the street, walking with no sense of purpose, might need some guidance. The child standing next to you in the lobby of your apartment complex might also be in need of love. There are currently many services, programs and initiatives that support the healthy development of African fathers, such as the Black Daddies Club, the Yensumo Youth and Community Development’s Rites of Passage process, the Lions Circle, the More than a Haircut Barbershop program and many more. Through these and other such organizations, we can fully embrace our responsibilities as men and fathers.

Our social and moral obligation to all our children is embodied in the African Proverb: “If you want to go fast, go alone; but if you want to go far, go together”. As African-centered fathers, we must create a new cultural framework of peer and communal accountability to ensure that no child is left behind.

Victor Beausoleil is devoted husband and a father of three. Victor is known in throughout Toronto as a mentor to many and personifies the true meaning of leadership in the black community. Victor is also a member of the Black Daddies Club

Brandon's sons. From left to right Tristan (8), Elijah (4), Julian (6)

I am a part of the new generation of fathers who were raised by single mothers. I recently had the opportunity to attend the book launch party of one of my mentors, Dalton Higgins, where he unveiled his newest literary offering, entitled FATHERHOOD 4.0. At this event, I heard fathers sharing their stories as parents.

However, a common theme uniting the comments made by some of these men were that they were raised by their mums, and I couldn’t help but wonder if an event like this (book launch) would have been as successful if the book came out around my father’s or grandfather’s generation. Would the notion of the ‘stay-at-home dad’ be held in the same positive light that it is today or would that father be seen as ‘wutless (less of a man)’ for not going out and bringing home the bacon.

Over the past three years, I have spent many hours working with black fathers in the Toronto community and I have found that a lot of fathers weren’t raised by their fathers. Because of that, they felt that they had to overcompensate when it came to parenting their own children. It is of paramount importance to these fathers that they are present in the lives of their children…and not just for the big moments (like first day of school, weddings, etc.), but also for the small moments (diaper changes at 2a.m., rubbing their son’s/ daughter’s back after a nightmare, reading bedtime stories).

These fathers of the new generation are more hands-on when it comes to parenting than their fathers and grandfathers ever were. And, in my humble opinion, that’s a step in the right direction.

"Daddies and Me" event at Art gallery of Ontario(AGO), Feb 2010

I was recently speaking to another ‘New Age’ dad, when this question was broached: Why is it that although many of our fathers and grandfathers grew up with their fathers in the home, they still didn’t see the importance of sticking around to be fathers to their children?

I was born in Jamaica in the late 70’s and I know that for my own father, it wasn’t seen as culturally or socially important for him to be there on a consistent basis. As long as the school fees were paid and I had books and a school uniform for September, his work as a father was done. I felt that this was the extent of his parenting.

Don’t get me wrong – my dad took me and my brothers and sisters out to Hillshire Beach every now and then (usually on a Sunday afternoon) and boy, did we look forward to those outings! And no matter how infrequent those outings were, they were always extra special. When I think of my dad, those are the memories that come to mind.

Fast forward some twenty-odd years and I have my own kids. I can’t help but wonder: what will be their memories of their father?

Black Business Professional association (BBPA) Community Award Ceremony, BDC received community excellence award

Brandon Hay, founder and Executive Director of Black Daddies Club; Brandon is a Husband, Father of 3 boys (Tristan, Julian and Elijah).

“I believe in the importance of community voice, hence why Black Daddies Club article in Sway magazine came about, our black fathers need a place where we can speak on some of the stuff that is bottled within and this is a great medium, we are working on some great ideas for 2011, keep posted”-Brandon Hay

BY: Brandon Hay

NARROWING THE GAPS

Brandon Hay wants people to know that not all black fathers are absentee parents. That’s why the father of three founded the Black Daddies Club in November 2007.

“I wanted to de-stigmatize that whole notion that black fathers and black husbands don’t exist,” says Hay. “When I go to pick up my son from daycare, I see the other black fathers there with their own stories. I think that gets lost in the media.”

The Black Daddies Club is a forum for black men to find support as parents and to share their difficulties and successes.

It’s been no secret that there has been unprecedented youth violence in Toronto and growing anger over absentee fathers, particularly in the Caribbean community. According to Statistics Canada, 46 per cent of black children lived in single-parent homes in 2001.

But instead of focusing on the negative statistics, Hay decided to do something positive.

“It’s a support system for young fathers [but it’s also about getting] the community more involved … to act as a catalyst for the community and to voice and show that we care about our children,” Hay says.

Meetings are held at least once a month in different venues, including community centres, restaurants and barbershops. Hay explains that they like to go to places where black parents congregate and feel comfortable expressing themselves.

At the moment, the meetings are mixed, with men and women attending. Eventually, Hay will start hosting men-only meetings so that fathers can open up more about fatherhood.

The idea for the Black Daddies Club struck Hay after his first child was born.

At 23, with a new baby, Hay was looking for a male support system to help him adjust to fatherhood. He couldn’t find community programs that spoke to his needs as a black man. Hay’s relationship with his own father was strained since he had been absent for most of his life, and Hay found he didn’t have anywhere else to turn.

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More…

Black Daddies Club Weekly: Fathers Day

Black Daddies Club Weekly: Stereotypes of a Black Male Misunderstood

Black Daddies Club on Metro Morning Radio: Calling all Fathers

Black Daddies Club Weekly: The Gift

“My mom basically wore both hats as far as mom and dad. She did an excellent job, but she couldn’t teach me how to be a man. Whether I’m a 13-year-old kid in high school or a 29-year-old, I still need my father,” says Hay.

Sadly, Hay’s father was murdered in Jamaica five years ago, just as father and son started to patch up their relationship. And that’s where Hay’s motivation comes from –– his father’s death and the relationship they never had.

“With the Black Daddies Club, I do this in memory of my dad. All the things I didn’t have growing up, that my dad wasn’t able to give me,” says Hay. “There has to be something that comes out of his death, and my goal is to break negative cycles and create positive ones.”

For more information about the Black Daddies Club, contact Brandon Hay at [email protected].

Fatherly advice

“For me, the biggest parenting tip is listening. Coming from Caribbean parentage [as a child], you’re often told to listen and not speak. If I take that approach with my son, I feel I will lose that kind of communicative relationship.” – Stephen Lawrence, community worker, 31, two children.

“I guess consistency and being present. My son doesn’t live with me, but when he was born I decided that I would be consistent and present. Spending quality alone time with your child is important. Young fathers think it needs to be a big production, like going to the zoo, but it doesn’t. Even things like burping your child or taking a walk with them [are also good].” – Benjamin de Graaf, 35, youth outreach worker, one child.

“One of my big things is the parenting style. I read this book, 10 Conversations You Need to Have with Your Children, and it talked about the internal and external way of dealing with your children. My mom is Jamaican and she only knows how to parent externally, but what I’m trying to do is parent my children internally. In other words, getting my children to realize on their own why they shouldn’t be acting a certain way.” – Andre Critchlow, 38, Maxamus Entertainment, two children.

“Look at being a father and having children as one of the most sacred experiences. It shouldn’t be about, ‘Oh, I gotta provide for my children.’ Look at parenting as a gift. They bring so much blessing, if you’re open to it.” – Tyson Brown, 34, part-time history teacher at Ryerson University and graduate student, one child.

“For me, it’s my communication with my kids. I really try to communicate to them as adults and just be as real as possible with them.” – Brandon Hay, 29, part-time student at George Brown College and event planner, three children.

Originally published in Sway Magazine, Summer 2008 issue