The Greatest Return on Fatherhood and the Future

It was one of those moments that perfectly represented family love, pride, empathy, and vulnerability in a very public way. It was also yet another polarizing moment that the haters immediately hated because it was from the other side, about the other side, glorifying the other side. Of course, I'm talking about the moment when Gus Walz, the Democratic VP nominee Tim Walz's son, stood and cheered on his dad, crying with pride and love, at the Democratic National Convention. "That's my dad!" he said.

Never mind the fact that Gus has a learning disorder, which does make the hate even more disgusting. Here is a moment representing a healthy love between a son and his father, and while seemingly celebrated by most, it's denigrated by too many others.

But it's not simply a Democrat versus Republican thing. It's a pervasive toxic masculinity thing. A powerful patriarchy kept in business for thousands of years (men in charge). One that continues to prevent empathy, respect, and unconditional love from blossoming between sons and daughters and their fathers and mothers. One that continues to marginalize and endanger women, people of color, and LGBTQIA+ communities. 

God, I'm tired of being outraged by extremist outrage of any ideology, especially those who embrace the diminishing hate of "men in power" that has turned people against each other and their own best interests for millennia. Unfortunately, I had two horrible male role models as "fathers" when I was younger. Two men who had been socialized in the above hate. They were my birth father and my first stepfather. Both were abusive, and one was an alcoholic, and the other mentally ill. It wasn't until my second stepfather, the one whose name my sister and I eventually took, did I experience an empathic and loving father. One who wasn't afraid to cry. He was clear about rules and boundaries when needed, especially with my sister and I in our teens, but he always led with love and empathy. These qualities are also what made him a respected police officer for 32 years.

When I was sworn in as a local school board member nearly two years ago, I was filled with pride and love when my daughters and wife cheered me on in the front row. Later, they all asked me if I cried, because they all know that Dad is a crier. An unabashed and unapologetic crier. However, I am clear about rules and boundaries when I need to be, especially now with teens in tow. I'm the gruff "no" and "don't do that" dad, and I'm constantly reminded of that.

But I'm also the empathic, loving, willing to be vulnerable dad. One who only cares about teaching and empowering our children to be healthy, resilient, empathetic, respectful, and grateful human beings. This is the greatest return on fatherhood and the future. It's not easy to sustain, though. Sometimes I still fall prey to judging others and the haters gonna hate trap, which both our kids call me out on. 

I've learned a lot over the years about being a "man", a husband, and a father -- not always getting it right, but always working on it -- and I hope our children will always be willing to proudly call out, "That's my dad!"