Each year, the celebration of Father’s Day marks a profoundly emotional and sobering holiday for countless individuals and families. For many, Father’s Day is a spiritual day that affirms the relationships between fathers and their children. However, for others, it can be a painful reminder of fragmented relationships. Sadly, in some cases, it’s a day that brings to the surface the “fatherhood wound” — a term that encapsulates the pain, anguish, and trauma of growing up without a sober, responsible, and spiritually guided father.
One poignant example of the fatherhood wound is the life of Eugene Schneeberg, a colleague, a father of five, and the founder of Fathers Forward. Eugene’s story, chronicled in his book “I Never Met My Father: My Journey from Fatherless to Fatherhood,” is a testament to his resilience. Despite never meeting his own father, Eugene found the courage to heal from his wounds and become a champion for fathers. His journey is a shining example of how fathers can overcome their past to support others.
The data on fathers’ role in families has always warmed my heart, but it is seldom acknowledged in society. For example, according to the National Responsible Fatherhood Clearinghouse, an effort funded by the Office of Family Assistance, a national resource for fathers, practitioners, and programs, children with involved fathers are at lower risk of poor outcomes, including infant mortality, emotional and behavioral problems, alcohol and substance abuse, and criminal activity. This data, while important, also sparks a personal reflection on my father’s influence and impact on my life.
Black Fathers Show Up
Additionally, the Centers for Disease Control and National Health Statistics Report’s groundbreaking 2016 study on fathers indicates that when fathers are involved in children’s lives, their presence increases academic success, increases child well-being, and reduces delinquency. The study also highlighted that Black fathers, in scores of cases, are more involved in their children’s lives than fathers of other racial groups. Unfortunately, when the study was released, it garnered little media attention, which is a stark reminder of the need for more recognition of fathers’ contributions to society.
Historically, Black fathers have been unfairly blamed for most social ills impacting urban communities, from blight to community violence. However, these seemingly intractable problems that handicap many communities are systematic of larger issues related to structural and institutional racism. It is crucial that we, as a community, provide the necessary support and resources for Black fathers to continue playing their positive role in cultivating healthy Black families. Data from the CDC Report and other empirical studies further highlight the positive impact of fathers on elevating healthy social and emotional outcomes among our children.
I am forever grateful to my father for never giving up on me when I needed him most.
This year, I find myself approaching my first Father’s Day without my father, Peter C. Miller, Sr., a remarkable, hardworking, and at times distant Black man. He was the son of a man born a few years post-Reconstruction, a man of pride and sternness, who believed in doing things right the first time. One of his famous sayings was “grin and bear it,” a phrase that has become a part of our family’s legacy. At the tender age of 7, it was difficult to fully grasp the profound importance of this and other sayings. Today, I find myself echoing his words to my three adult children, who give me the same puzzled look I used to give my dad.
My father’s guidance was a beacon, steering me away from the pitfalls that often ensnare urban males during their formative years. Despite getting into trouble and even being arrested a few times as a young man, my father’s daily lessons were constant reminders of the true essence of manhood. I can still vividly recall his disappointment when I failed most of my high school classes and his realization of my drinking problem in my late teens. I am forever grateful to my father for never giving up on me when I needed him most.
As a teen and younger man, it took me two decades to realize my father’s significant role in my maturation and influence on critical decisions I was forced to make. I am deeply grateful for his influence and positive impact on my life.
It is important to express this gratitude not just on Father’s Day but every day. I find a quiet place to think about my upbringing several days each week and cherish the memories. The lessons were harsh on numerous occasions, and my father’s expectations for me seemed unobtainable. The blueprint for manhood I received growing up personified tough love but was delivered to ensure I understood the essence of being a young Black man in America.
Reflecting on my childhood, I realize the sacrifices my father made for our family. His determination ensured that my brother and I did not become statistics.
As a nurturer, a virtue seldom attributed to men, I witnessed the tender side of my dad. He took care of my mother, who was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and forced to leave the job she loved as a Baltimore City Public School teacher. Despite the difficulty of this transition, my dad put the family on his back and made sure that my brother and I had a great childhood, a testament to his commitment and love.
In his final moments, there was a beauty and peace that I will always carry with me.
The most incredible honor of my life has not been meeting heads of state, foreign dignitaries, celebrities, or graduating from college but serving as my dad’s primary caregiver for the last three years of his life. This role, more than any other, has shaped me and given me a profound sense of purpose. Battling dementia, an unforgiving, challenging, and debilitating disease, impacted my father’s short- and long-term memory and, at times, his willingness to live near the end of his life. Although painful to watch, my father died with dignity and grace on July 21, 2024, at home.
In his final moments, there was a beauty and peace that I will always carry with me. I lit a candle and turned out the lights to party for my dad. Within minutes, he rose, squeezed my hand, and tears rolled down his face. I knew the ancestors were calling him home to be with his parents and my mother, Carol Shelton Miller, his wife for 51 years. I vividly remember calling the funeral home a few minutes later to inform them that my dad would be transitioning in a few hours.
Since my father has become an ancestor, I shed tears daily, not for his transition but for the legacy he has left for my family. Cherishing the lectures and watching him care for my mother and provide for our home brings me comfort and will always be a constant reminder of fatherhood’s life-giving and affirming power.
Honoring the “Village Dads”
When I ponder my journey to manhood, I am grateful for the “village dads” of our West Baltimore Community. These men, including my grandfather Eugene Shelton and Warnie Miller, Uncle Tim Shelton, neighbors Nathaniel Jackson, Eddie Anderson, O’ Donald Sampson, Gary March, Sr, Mr. Gray, Emmanuel Blow, and others, were not just neighbors. Judge Milton B. Allen, the first Black state’s attorney in Maryland, was another beacon of inspiration, mentoring hundreds of budding lawyers and young Black males growing up in Baltimore.
They were a collective force, a guiding light that provided a clear blueprint for fathering through a nurturing lens. Their informal mentoring was a shining example of honesty, integrity, and the kind of Black men needed to reclaim communities and produce healthy families. These unsung Black men of valor often dished out a brand of tough love, advice, and counsel that was crucial in helping so many of us navigate the challenging streets of Baltimore as teenagers, inspiring us to be better.
Our impromptu visits to Mr. Barnes’s barbershop, a unique community hub nestled on the corner of Edgewood Road and Liberty Heights Avenue, were more than just grooming sessions. They were a testament to the importance of community influence, where my dad and the men, imperfect but understanding their roles as fathers, husbands, and giants in our community, imparted invaluable lessons.
A Legacy of Education and Advocacy
These examples, akin to four doctorate degrees in three blocks — Andrea Anderson, Larry Jackson, David Blow, and myself — shaped my character. These academic achievements are significant in our small slice of West Baltimore and in a country where Ph.D.’s comprise only 2% of the population. This journey was made possible by the influence of our Black fathers, who prioritized education and civic engagement and doubled as prayer warriors alongside our mothers and grandmothers. It is a story that may not make the six o’clock news or feature in media outlets in Baltimore City, but it is a testament to the power of community and the role of fathers in shaping our futures.
On this Father’s Day, I want to acknowledge and celebrate the amazing fathers who fight against marginalization and stereotypes and show up for their families in many ways. This acknowledgment would not be complete without mentioning the vital role of nationwide dynamic organizations that provide critical services and advocacy for fathers. These organizations — like Daddy University and Father’s Day Rally Committee in Philadelphia, Black Men Lab and Dear Fathers in Atlanta, Center for Urban Families in Baltimore, and the Real Dads Network in New York City — are part of a larger movement.
Uplifting Fathers, Uplifting Communities
Their efforts — and the journey of Kenneth Braswell, executive director of Fathers Incorporated, an Atlanta-based think tank that offers innovative programming and advocacy for fathers nationwide — show the power of community support. Braswell, like many men, met his father in his 20s. His personal journey and the trauma of that experience inspired him to become a change agent in communities, demonstrating the transformative power of personal experiences in advocacy work.
Let us take time, not just on Father’s Day, but every day, to recognize ordinary fathers from all walks of life who represent the backbone of their communities and the lifeline for families. Please take a few moments to reach out to fathers in your network and acknowledge fathers when you see them during your everyday journeys at the gas station with their children in the car seat, at the bank, or walking down the street.
A few of the most rewarding conversations I have regularly are with dads spending time with their children on the way to the store or picking them up from school. Several weeks ago, while working on the West Side of Chicago, I prayed and cried with a young father of six children whom I met while walking down the street. The young man described his challenges with amicable co-parenting agreements, his inability to find a job, and his doubts about whether he was a good father based on his circumstances. I share this brief episode in my life to encourage all of us to have grace and to exercise forgiveness when it comes to our fathers. Let us remember that every father has a story, and our empathy and understanding can make a difference.
David C. Miller, Ph.D., is the author of “Dare To Be King: What If the Prince Lives?” and a researcher focused on fathers and protective factors in the lives of children.
