Black Fathers Matter
Shakir Rashaan
Being a father isn’t easy.
Before you begin to bring out the pitchforks,
hear me out.
Here’s what I mean when I say what I’m saying.
You’re expected to be the cornerstone, the example
of manhood that your son establishes himself by,
the standard by which your daughter measures any
man that tries to come into her life. Sometimes you
get it right, sometimes you fall short. When your
children finally reach adulthood, and they begin to
reach those pinnacles of success that you envisioned
for them long ago, the two words that come out of
their mouths when the acceptance speech begins are
“Thanks, mom.”
Now that I’ve gotten my moment of levity out
of the way, the crux of my sentiment is clear. When
you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing,
sometimes you don’t get the recognition, and a lot of
the times, that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Which
is why I say that being a father isn’t easy.
Being a Black father? Man, listen.
So, what I’m going to do with this moment in
time is recognize those men around me who I set
my standards by growing up, and the men who I’m
proud to say have been, and continue to be, what it
takes to be the type of father that are celebrated on
television shows throughout the generations.
My grandfather was the one who turned me on
to writing when I was five years old. He taught me
how to handle a car, how to maintain it properly
and what it was to do your best to maintain your
decorum and professionalism regardless of how
26 | NKLC Magazine
off-key the other person in the situation may be.
Even though he’s passed on, his voice rings in
my ears, balancing me when I feel like I’m off the
beaten path.
My father, whose namesake I share, was the
one whose mannerisms I mimicked when I was
a teenager. Everything from the voice inflections
to his signature, he was the one who showed me
what swagger was all about. He was gregarious,
never met a stranger, and would talk your ear off
if you give him the chance. He was the one who,
through his actions with my mother, showed me
how to treat my Beloved when she finally came
into my life.
My uncle, who taught me the value of putting
your mind to work in a variety of ways. Though
we don’t share similar views with regard to faith
and spirituality, his strength of faith is one that I
admire and have mimicked in my own manner.
He has influenced on me in ways that I’ve
reminded him over the years, and he continues
to do so to this day, especially when I became
a stepfather. I leaned on his advice and he was
there every step of the way until my son enlisted
into the Army.
My chosen brethren, who have left as much
of a mark on me as I have on each of them. In
total, there are eight, each of them showing me
in their own ways how a father should look.
There’s a cliché that states, “If you’re the smartest
person in the room, you’re in the wrong room.”
I am happy to say that each one of them has the
ability to teach and learn on any given day, and