His point is a powerful one, although I think it gets overlooked as the number of births to unmarried moms zooms upward in cities across the United States. As what once was taboo becomes commonplace, I think the trend is more than just a statement on men’s unwillingness to be responsible dads. It also reflects that women are realizing that it can be easier to raise a child alone without having to deal with a man’s input or influence. Al-tereek said his mom definitely fits into that category. “My mom, she didn’t feel that she had to deal with any other person while she raised us. It wasn’t necessary. She was able to create her life and have some success with all her children. This was her mission, and she accomplished it.”
Single moms certainly deserve respect, but it’s undeniable that their kids grow up like Al-tereek and like me, too, with no clue of how to dance the give-and-take of a committed relationship. For example, Al-tereek held firmly to his family’s tried-and-true method of paying bills in person at the last minute, but finally he had to admit that Tynicka had a point when she suggested that mailing them in earlier would be easier and less stressful. “If you don’t know how to give, how to stand down, how to allow another point of view, you cause a lot of conflict,” he said. “I’m still teaching myself to let stuff go, that I don’t have to win every time. When I behave like the whole world revolves around me, that’s a by-product of having been raised with only one perspective.”
To his credit, Al-tereek recognized he had some emotional work to do. Since marrying Tynicka, he not only admitted that her method of paying the bills was smarter, he realized he had to compromise in other areas, too.
Why Al-tereek’s own father didn’t crave to be with him during his crucial growing-up years, he’ll never understand. But he and his dad are reaching out to each other now. Although letting go of wounded feelings is difficult, he doesn’t want to deprive his children of a chance to know their grandfather. “The biggest part of being a great father,” Al-tereek has concluded, “is being a great man.”
Perhaps because of the pain of his childhood, Al-tereek now takes pleasure in creating a warm, safe world for his children. “Every time I come home from work, they make me feel like a king,” he said. “As soon as I hit the door, they start screaming from upstairs. They go nuts, yelling ‘Daddy, Daddy!’ It’s like I’m coming through the tunnel in a football game, like I’m the star quarterback. I get charged up just to come home.”
“He totally relishes that he’s got his own family with its own traditions,” said his wife, Tynicka. “He’s totally elated. I hear him bragging about it with his friends: ‘Yeah, we just cooked up a big Christmas dinner over here.’ He really appreciates those things.”
Al-tereek has truly embraced the concept of family, and any observer can see that he has found peace and completeness with his marriage and children. It’s funny how we all search for fulfillment during our lives, and often it’s sitting directly in front of us. We have only to open our eyes.
DARRELL
What if my childhood dreams had come true? What if my dad had given me attention, encouraged me in sports, and been a source of advice and support? My guess is my life would look a lot like that of eighteen-year-old Darrell Terry, Jr.
It’s almost uncanny the way his relationship with his father resembles my early fantasies.
His dad, forty-four-year-old Darrell Sr., has been my good friend since I met him in 2000. He is vice president of administration at Beth Israel Medical Center in Newark, where I did my medical residency. I was intrigued to learn then that he was a single man raising his son and daughter.
Darrell fathered the children in his twenties with his live-in girlfriend. The couple broke up in 1992, and the kids lived with their mother for the next few years. But his ex-girlfriend, who also had older children, struggled under the weight of being a single parent. One day she complained to Darrell about it.
“What if I give it a try?” suggested Darrell, then thirty-two. She agreed, and the children—Darrell Jr., then seven, and Gabrielle, six—moved into his apartment.
Darrell realized from the outset that he would need to scale back his bachelor lifestyle because his kids came first. “Socially, I had to slow down and make some sacrifices,” he said. “I didn’t want to bring different women around them, confusing them.” He promised himself that he wouldn’t bring any girlfriends around the kids unless the relationship was getting serious. His mom, who lived nearby, watched the kids whenever he had a date.
He poured his attention into his kids and it shows. Darrell Sr. had a weekly ritual of playing basketball with his brothers, so he started taking little Darrell along. As his son got older, Darrell Sr. began to teach him the game, and volunteered as a coach with his son’s basketball team. As you would imagine, young Darrell’s skills were quite polished by the time he became a teenager, and they eventually earned him the title of captain of South Orange High School’s state-ranked basketball team. His father, a busy hospital administrator who often travels, missed only one game during Darrell Jr.’s entire high school career. Darrell Sr. delights in all his son’s achievements, although he had a hard time accepting it last year when his little boy ended up outshooting him and blocking his jumpers during their backyard father-son tournaments. At age forty-four, my buddy realized his son had become a better player than he is. But that’s how life’s supposed to be.
Darrell Sr. is a natural leader with outstanding people skills. And I’m fascinated to see that the son has turned out to be a carbon copy of his father. Darrell Jr. was voted homecoming king in his senior year of high school, and he also volunteered at school as a peer mediator. “I feel I can talk to anybody. I always find the right words to say. I’ve never had a problem making friends,” said young Darrell, who believes he got these traits from his father. “Everyone tells me I sound just like my father. I think I adopted his whole personality. The way he treats people, the way he talks. He treats people with respect.”
There’s no way that Darrell Jr., now at Penn State studying business management—“Trying to be like Daddy,” as he himself puts it with a laugh—can appreciate his blessings the way that I can. This kid doesn’t have to pretend that he knows what he’s doing; his confidence glows unmistakably. And it’s no mystery why he’s like this. It’s the subtle moments of everyday life with a father who was fully present emotionally that gave Darrell Jr. something to admire and emulate. Having a dad to follow helped Darrell Jr. take surer steps and gave him a sense of direction.
Darrell’s daughter is also a high achiever. Gabrielle, who still has the “I miss you so much” letter her father wrote her when she went away to Girl Scout camp in fifth grade, is an A student and a community volunteer. She displays the remarkable confidence that a father’s attention helps to sculpt.
In fact, things were going so well for the three of them that Darrell Sr. hesitated before disrupting their household with the news that he was considering marriage. Said Gabrielle, “Before he got married, he was like, ‘How do you guys feel about it? It’s you guys first.’ He always made sure that we knew that. He tells us, ‘When I wake up, you guys are the first thing I think about.’”
With his children’s blessing, Darrell Sr. married Renee, and they now have a one-year-old, Jordan. Darrell Sr. appreciates that his teen children unselfishly approved the idea of a stepmother. “I really love the young adults they have become,” he said. “They’re kind, considerate, well mannered, a success in so many ways. They’re well-rounded kids. They’re good people.”
Darrell Sr. once told me that he often feels awkward when people rush to pat him on the back after they hear that he raised his children as a single dad. Although it’s meant as a compliment, he doesn’t want the kudos. It makes it seem as though what he did was optional, and that attitude is harmful, he believes. “I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing,” he says. “No more, no less.”
After I thought about this, I had to agree. We’ve got to stop treating good fathers as if the
y should be congratulated or celebrated. Good fathering is something that ought to be expected; you’re not supposed to get a bag of treats for doing it. Somehow, many absentee fathers have convinced themselves they’re doing a good job just because they pay child support or come up with money when their kids ask for it. In turn, I’ve seen lots of kids and single moms willingly accept this, and act as if a cash injection is all the fathers are good for. Darrell’s noticed the trend, too, and it burns him up.
“It’s not just money. That’s nothing,” he says vehemently. “It amazes me that some fathers miss out on this experience. I can’t even imagine what my life would be like had I missed out on all these years with the kids. I have a master’s degree, I’m a vice president at a four-hundred-million-dollar hospital, and if you ask me what’s the best thing going for me, it’s my kids.”
Chapter 5
SAMPSON
What I Know Best
IN POOR COMMUNITIES, it wouldn’t hurt if we tossed out most of what we think we know about fathering and began again. I learned this lesson powerfully through the example provided by my friend Sabu and his son. I’m sad to admit it, but I’d never seen one of my peers approach the job of being a father quite so unselfishly until I watched Sabu in action as a dad, busting his butt to get to his son when Mekhi’s sick, and turning down invitations to go party so they can spend quiet time together.
And now that I’ve observed him, I get it. Good parents never stop asking themselves the question “What’s best for my child?” Or as another friend of mine said, “When I became a dad, I had to realize it’s not about me anymore. My child has to come first.”
As men, we never discuss our responsibilities as fathers. At the barbershop, we’ll talk about everything from cars to videos, from sports to super-models, but somehow the subject of fatherhood never comes up. That’s crazy. Although almost everyone in the barbershop has kids, it’s as if we find every other possible topic to talk about except that one.
We’re forever judging one another by our cars, our careers, or our hustles. But we never make it a priority to talk about how our children are doing. We don’t compare notes on our kids like many mothers do. In no way do we measure our success as men by our performance as dads.
It’s not that men don’t want to be better parents. But our beer-and-sports culture pushes men in the opposite direction, making us look weak or sissified when we strive to learn more about being a good dad. I’m sure my own father wanted to resolve things with me but he didn’t know how. The hardest thing for a father to admit is that he needs help.
Then there’s the fact that as a society, we’ve been conditioned to react immediately when someone criticizes the way we’re raising our children. The fact is that so many fathers are explorers without a compass, trying to figure out how to do this job when we didn’t have a dad in our own lives. If you have young children, take this quick quiz and see how in tune you are with them:
Do you know where they are at all times? Do you know their friends? Are you involved in your children’s school activities? Have you made sure they participate in extracurricular programs? Have you established clear rules in your house? Do you know what kind of music your children are listening to? Do you know what kinds of sites they’re accessing on the Internet? Do you know whether the TV shows they watch are age-appropriate?
Here are some suggestions, large and small, for improving fatherhood in our communities:
Model the behavior you want your child to copy. Avoid heated disagreements with your childen’s mother. By talking out your differences, you teach your children the importance of compromise and conflict resolution.
Realize that fathering isn’t just financial. Don’t just spend money on your children, spend time with them. Why pay $60 for a video game when the same money can give your kids an experience they’ll always remember? Take them to concerts, to explore careers they’re interested in, to hear interesting speakers. Expose them to the world. You’ll help instill a love of learning.
Discipline with love. All children need guidance and discipline, but not as a punishment, the National Fatherhood Initiative advises. Remind your children of the consequences of their actions, and provide rewards when they live up to your expectations.
Be readily available. Let your children know that you are there for them. It isn’t enough to say it. You have to show it by being accountable. Show up and take interest in their activities. Encourage them to join after-school and extracurricular programs. These are extremely important to their development and success in life.
Create rituals with your child. Strengthen your bond by putting in place some regular activities. These can be large or small; no matter whether you spend Friday nights on the couch with your kids watching videos or once a year take them to the ballpark for the home opener, I can guarantee that they will look forward to these shared moments. Birthdays are especially important. It creates a lifelong memory for a child when Dad reliably takes the time to bring him an ice cream cake on his birthday, to give him a gift-wrapped book, or to take him to play laser tag every year. Rituals like these build trust, by making a child feel as if he’s the center of Dad’s universe.
Teach through example. Accept that it’s your job, as a father, to caution your children against drugs and irresponsible sex. Don’t leave this task to the streets. But instead of running down the ten rules never to break, use your own real-life examples to paint a picture for your children. You may not even realize it, but there are events in your daily travels that can help them learn important lessons. And if you haven’t been a perfect citizen, then let them learn from your bad decisions. Advise your children that there are real-life consequences to selling drugs, from going to jail to being the victim of stick-ups and drive-by shootings.
Talk to your child. This one seems so simple, yet it can be the most difficult to master. Think of the times you’ve been sitting in the car, bus, or train with your child and there is complete silence. Open up and encourage conversation with your child, especially about the sticky subjects of sex, crime, and drugs. Today’s children have been exposed to thousands of hours of violence thanks to television and video games. No wonder they are desensitized to the real-life violence in their neighborhoods. Take time to role-play with your children about how they should act when they face peer pressure to use alcohol or drugs or have sex. Many of our children buckle at this point because they just don’t know the right words to say. Help fortify your child by teaching him ways to circumvent that negative energy while preserving his coolness.
Build your child’s self-image. A lot of urban kids have never been taught the most basic social skills and they spend a lot of time (as I did) trying to copy other kids’ behavior. Teach your child to hold his head up and look people in the eye when talking to them, to stand up for what he believes in, and to never let anyone’s harmful words destroy his self-image.
Be your child’s hero. Don’t depend on actors, musicians, or sports figures to be the role model. At the end of the day, you’re the one responsible for guiding your children through life. Teach them the difference between right and wrong. It’s up to you.
Show affection. Don’t be too macho to show that you care. All kids long for their dad to protect and love them.
Once you master all these skills, then help someone else. Reach out to someone who isn’t being an attentive father and let him know that his children need him, and that they should come first. We heartily encourage you to do what we did, and sponsor a roundtable discussion where men can come together to share and discuss their challenges with their children. When we tried this, in October 2006, it was a moving experience for all eleven men in the room. We held the meeting in Sabu’s living room. For two hours, we sat in a circle and discussed the things that really matter—the well-being of our children. It felt so therapeutic, it was almost like being in church. Sitting in a circle with men I respect, hearing them share stories of fatherhood, taught me so much about the joys and respo
nsibilities of being a dad. These are honorable men who stayed in their children’s lives, and each has become a better man for doing so. When I become a father, I know I’ll draw on the insights they shared.
For suggestions on how to sponsor a roundtable discussion on fatherhood in your neighborhood, visit our website at www.threedoctors.com. It’s our dream that this topic of discussion become part of men’s everyday lives. If only we stopped to ask one another “How’s your kid doing?” at the bus stop, the barbershop, the grocery store. Who knows how much we can shake things up just by starting the discussion? It would be wonderful to see fatherhood become part of our everyday conversations.
SECTION THREE
RAMECK
Chapter 1
RAMECK HUNT
The Beginning
MY FATHER WASN’T the kind of guy you’d call a player. Bookish and shy, he kept a low profile at his Catholic high school in the early 1970s.
But when the Newark public school girls suddenly discovered him, they realized they had found a good thing. My dad was good-looking, with a sweet style of talking that made you think you were the center of the universe. By the time he left for college in Massachusetts, two cheerleaders from rival high schools were almost brawling for his attention.
Dad obviously had a hard time choosing a winner, since both were pretty. Arlene was sassy and brown-skinned, and had flirtatious dimples. Sharon was the classy caramel-colored one who had endeared herself to his family. They pursued him with a passion they should have been devoting to their schoolwork. Frankly, I think my low-key dad was no match for these two strong-willed, sharp-tongued beauties.
The Bond: Three Young Men Learn to Forgive and Reconnect With Their Fathers Page 18