Dear Fathers

Dear fathers in your many forms,

I am blessed to have one of you close, adopt others, marvel and smile at many, desire to see freedom and justice for others. I learn from you, the depths of your roots and the worlds in your eyes. I’ve grown up amidst tangible yous and messages about you, depictions that usually seemed to miss the mark--overlooked huge parts of your heart. As a kid I often felt pained, sad watching movies with black men, like my dad or about black stories because they seemed incessantly heavy. I was confused, because my black family and community had their strife, but there was so much fun and vibrant life.

I wanted to imagine a fatherhood lens that blends the life begun by your mom and dad; cultivated over seasons; nourished by beings, actualized dreaming and exponentially impacting through, of course, we--legacies.

I see you, wading through America’s carefully crafted history, messages of “who you are” that are everything but realistic depictions of the wholeness of you. I see you traversing convoluted messages about masculinity, heteronormativity, imbalanced expectations, constant ego feeding, misconstrued truths about control, dominance, power and

you have all of my respect,

for your measured, wise and thoughtful mind,

seeing eye and curious smile

for how you teach me how to read between the lines,

find the gold every time

Know my worth, not their words

When I lean into your powerful frame or mind, it’s hard to imagine you weren’t always at this capacity of wisdom and strength. But you too climbed the jungle gyms of your father’s arms, felt the consistency of your mother’s gaze, or yearned to.

You too felt curious and amazed, wondered at bugs, dirt, sun rays. You too learned new truths, weights on tiny shoulders, stings at tender skin when you saw your parents cry, mother weep, father sigh gnash his teeth, felt a hand belt or tree, took their fear like punishment, retribution or re-living for history that came before. You too wondered when you were supposed to know not to do that, felt angered, justified when you yelled, walked away, made her feel all alone.

You too saw when you were wrong, sought out grace to make it right, broke up the fights . Experienced joy in forgiving, reconciled where you’d been to get to where you’re going

Now we’re here.

And I’m seeing your walk as one of justice, mercy and love for lives so infectious we join in without fight. Like back then, unsure where you start and we begin, climbing up your limbs with sticky skin

Cause there’s something about a father’s head, holding treasures we want to know ; Us, circling, grimy handed dirty mouthed galaxy

Is this how constellations came to be--

Patterns woven into the sky

Generations choosing love, each other

Legacies cultivated by endurance, grace and joy

We marvel at the distance they travel to reach us

To remind us, every time of our triumph

To be so bright and gorgeous without fantasy

To bring that light and might to our everything.

You bring all your communities into loving me and now memories of the past are playing out in real time--

kids still swarming

Giggling, squirming, shouting forms vying for attention

Warm embraces, knowing glances, open stances

evidence being imprints, father sized.

everywhere you’re standing

I’m clamoring up the legs of your understanding

I too feel, see, wonder, find a way, reconcile through murky expectations, unfounded consequences, stereotypical boxes sometimes literally broken from. It is so tough, sometimes I do not want to keep comprehending,

but you lift me up to a sunshine smile , golden glow coating known and unknown testimony to unsure but faithful, father, you see the work of my hands and say well done.

You know that in some moments we just need that sight, the eyes on lives that tell us it’s right that we’re here and together.

Tuck my nose into your neck, chin rests—link breath.

We teach each other how

to be by growing together.

I love you,

We, your legacies