"The test of the morality of a society is what it does for its
children." Dietrich Bonhoeffer said. Margaret Mead said, "The highest
measure of a civilization lies in how it cares for its children." Kids
are the fabric upon which our society will be built, and dads, no one
is more important in helping them see that, or nurturing them than we
are.
I'm a dad's advocate. Always have been, even before I knew I was. Will
always be one. And I'm trying my best to take as many dads to the level
of self-actualizing that my own research and readings are taking me.
Want to join?
Since writing this column, I've heard from some of you, but others are
you must still be in the closet, as the researcher Scott Coltrane said
about men who were ashamed of how involved they were at home. I
challenge you let me hear from you. I want this to be a column you that
has the highest measure of civilization at stake. And for me, that
measure of civilization lies in the hearts of dads.
My dad wasn't' around for me. My mother left him before I was born. I
can remember being taken to my aunt's [my father's sister] and
deposited there for two weeks. Those two weeks changed my life, and as
so often happened in black families, a relative raised me. Welfare was
not in the equation. Adoption was an alternative. I grew up knowing I
didn't have what a lot of kids had. But I had a lot many of them
didn't. My mom and dad may not have been there to raise me, but because
of the way my aunt was raised, I was raised by my dad's ideas on how
life should be.
Did I know how blessed I was? At the time I didn't. I wanted what every
kid who grew up knowing he had a living mom and pop. I wanted them. I
also grew up as any other pubescent young man in the 60s grew. I was
selfish, I wanted what I wanted. But by the grace of God, and a hickory
stick [actually switch] my aunt and her husband provided. They gave me
food, shelter, and a desire to do better than my dad did.
Idle promises he didn't keep hurt me. Idle pledges to pick me up that
never happened nourished me. Idle dreams of what I could become
whenever I saw him gave me hope. I hurt for his love, understanding and
time. I lived for the word he was proud of me. I longed for the dream
where I treated my kids better.
As many of you reading this know, marital commitment is a two-way
street. Mom and dad don't always get along, but I learned early that
even if you think you can't work it out, your kids should not be cast
off as a mistake, inconsequential, or unimportant. I have vowed that if
my wife and I ever split, I would fight for my kids, and by God we are
still together, partially because they mean as much to her as they do
to me. At times, I hate that. I feel if I can continue to find the
nourishment in our relationship my father couldn't, our sons' mother
will continue to view me as the man of her dreams.
And my dream? That all men can find a way to come together and realize
the part they have to play in the societal symphony that has yet to be
written where the echoes of their hearts are their children calling
their names as the heroes that made them who they are.
Indeed, dads give our kids the needles and pins to sew together the
fabric we have provided them as the backdrop upon which our lives will
be measured.
Archie Wortham lives with his wife, Suzan of 23 years, and their two
sons Myles (12), and Jeremy (16) in Universal City, Texas, a suburb of
San Antonio. Retired from the military in 1996, for nine years he wrote
a dad's column originally called "Jeremy's Dad," then called
"Jeremyles' Dad," named after both his sons. He now writes a column in
San Antonio called "Men 2 Fathers." Archie also maintains the Fatherhood site,
you may contact him by email at
