As I walk passed the playground on Fulton Street, something looked different. Monkey bars still there, sliding board there. Then I looked in the section where the swings swung back and forth. The second swing from the right held an ebony bundle of laughter, and pushing her… THE FATHER. A brother. A man with skin the color of the evening. I paused for a moment and cracked a smile as he looked over at me giving me a brotherly headnod.

playground

As days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months; while on the train, in the museum, in Baskin and Robins, even the Laundromat; I saw Black men spending quality time with our babies. I’ve even seen a brother walking up Malcolm X Blvd in Brooklyn, with bags in each hand and newborn in a baby carrier fastened to his chest.

I think we’re in a fatherly awakening, a renaissance if you will. I told a friend of mine about my “discovery” and he looked me square in my eyes with an almost unmoved expression and said “it’s only because child support has been raping men’s pockets”. After his comment, it was quite understood that he was looking at it from a myopic perspective. Hey, call me a dreamer, but I think the Nyquil has wore off and a light has come on that hasn’t shown its watts in decades.

“He’s misunderstood, some say that he’s up to no good around the neighborhood
But fo’ your information - alot of my brothers got education (now check it)” –Angie Stone

Even movies are depicting fathers in a different light. I went to the movies a few months ago to see a movie titled Daddy’s little girls written by Tyler Perry. The film is about a hard working father (mechanic) fighting for custody of his three daughters while up against the ignorance of their mother who is the girlfriend of a ruthless drug dealer. To make a long story short, the movie despicted a reality: good fathers are still in existence, and even willing to be single parents if need be. Ladies, I know what a few of you are thinking. And you are probably reading this with a “yea right” look tattooed to your face.

“He is my King, He is my one
Yes he’s my father, Yes he’s my son
I can talk to him, cuz he understands
Everything I go through and everything I am
That’s my support system, I can’t live without him
The best thing since sliced bread,” –Angie Stone

But trust me, if you just squint a little bit, take off the disbelief, and dust away the paraphernalia of the past, You just may see a brother changing a pamper on a park bench who doesn’t intend to ever leave the stage. He’s intentional about being there until the curtain closes or at least until the park does.

Chris Slaughter