Papa, PhD: Essays on Fatherhood by Men in the Academy

Change Is Here, but We Need to Talk about It: Reflections on Black Fatherhood in the Academy

Ralph Ellison’s exploration of black masculinity continues to serve as a foundational metaphor for understanding the historical construction of black masculinity. And while issues of invisibility and examples of black male maladjustment abound in contemporary American culture, we cannot deny the successful integration of certain black men into the American mainstream. If there is any doubt about this assertion, the election of Barack Obama as the forty-fourth president of the United States speaks to this literal and symbolic reality in theorizing black masculinity. But the aspect of President Obama’s narrative—as much as I admire his personal and professional journey—that departs from my experience as an African American man is fatherhood. Here I am not questioning our president’s commitment to fatherhood, but I am suggesting that his particular model is rooted in the traditional role as provider, with his wife and mother-in-law providing the day-to-day guidance for their daughters. As I consider the life of the most popular black father in the world, I am reminded of our di¤erent locations on the map of fatherhood. For men in general and black men in particular, the social visibility of men who are hands-on fathers (that is, men who are involved in their children ’s lives beyond a kiss in the morning and a kiss at night) is minuscule. For black men, too many of us are fixated on the model of manhood and success signified in President Obama’s example; in this model we have a Change Is Here, but We Need to Talk about It Reflections on Black Fatherhood in the Academy j effr ey b. leak “I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids—and I might even be said to possess a mind.” —Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man 184 03 Part 3_Manu 7/1/2010 5:30 PM Page 184 black man who is the primary provider for his family, a black man with unprecedented access to white institutions of power and privilege. If Obama were white, his story would be interesting but not a phenomenon unto itself. Because the history of white American manhood revolves around a narrow conception of what constitutes manhood, the Obama model resonates with many black men. In other words, the primary tenet of white supremacy was the emasculation of black men. No wonder, then, that many black men have focused on attaining the power accorded to white men, without critiquing the notion of white manhood. In the case of Obama’s rather traditional role as father, this model works for his family, but some of us have not comprehended the most important aspect of the Obama model: that it is one of numerous options, that black fatherhood presents multiple possibilities. What I mean here is that most men, even in the moderately progressive professoriate, do not exercise the family leave option that is guaranteed by law in the Family and Medical Leave Act. Having done it twice, first with our daughter in 2001, and most recently with our son in 2009, I find that I inhabit a social zone that renders me, alas, invisible. Try showing up at a noontime reading class at the public library with your infant, and you are the only man present in a room with mostly white women and maybe a few black women. Or better yet, attend an infant swim class and share the pool with women ranging in age from thirty to forty-five. In all of these moments, which take place during the weekdays, everyone wants to know, in the lingua franca of W.E.B. Du Bois, “How does it feel to be a problem?” Inevitably, a woman will inquire about my wife. “Are you giving your wife a day o¤?” “Is she ill?” “Your child is actually with you for most of the day?” Really, what they really want to ask is “Why are you here?” Men and women, even those who define themselves as progressive, struggle with this alternative social scenario. We are not at the point in our culture where it is expected that men spend substantive, not just symbolic, periods of time with their children. For those who do, the professional and social implications have yet to be determined. How many men could take a...