Where Are the Dads?
It’s a tough reminder of how fathers are perceived in the realm of parenting.
The Association of Writers & Writing Programs (AWP) is the biggest writers’ conference in the US. About 10K people come every year to network, engulf themselves in the literary community, and learn. You’ll find a little bit of something for everyone. Writing Practices for Neurodiverse and Disabled Writers? They’ve got you covered. Writing Judaism Beyond Trauma? That was on Thursday. Translation as Poetics? I don’t know what that is, but I do know that the class was from 10:35 to 11:50 am.
Like I said, there is something there for everyone.
Until you get to parenting and fatherhood. Then we are non-existent. It’s a tough reminder of how fathers are perceived in the realm of parenting.
Now, I don’t want to put the onus of the lack of fatherhood writer’s sessions on the heads of AWP. There was a class called The Poetry of Black Fatherhood in Theory and Practice, which was about poets who happened to be fathers. So, I know that fathers were present in AWP. But there were no classes on the truth of fatherhood, the experience of it, and how we truthfully represent fatherhood beyond the cliché. I take the blame as mine. I should have pitched a fatherhood panel. Instead, I pitched a humor panel, that also didn’t make it. It happens, all good. But the fatherhood thing does leave a bad taste in my mouth.
“I’ve never seen a dad look half as tired as a mom when they walk into a parent/teacher conference.”
That’s the nice little tidbit in one of the classes that I went to. Admittingly, it was a motherhood parenting session. I go to these because as a parenting writer, I find it extremely important to shut up and listen to other’s experiences. It helps frame my own writing and get a full picture of the parenting world.
But dude, ouch. And while I do believe there are millions of hardworking moms who do it all, I also believe that there are plenty of dads that are fucking exhausted every day. I could easily say that I’ve never seen a mom come home covered in grease and dirt exhausted after picking up an extra shift so their kiddo can have Christmas.
What is the point of statements like that in the parenting world? This endless competitiveness just trivializes each’s contribution and downplays the efforts so many parents put in. Moms and dads are both exhausted at times. And I can guarantee you that I’ve been that guy walking into a parent-teacher conference where I could barely remember my name. Do we really need to make statements like this in the parenting world? Do we really need to stick to this tired cliché that fathers are worthless, uninvolved, and essentially don’t love our kids enough to care for them?
Historically, yes, let’s give moms all their due. They have done the essential labor of caregiving for generations. Typically unpaid, and often many are guilted into it, they have been the unsung heroes of our world. The patriarchy exists, I have seen it firsthand.
And I have seen all this myself because I’m in the trenches. I have walked out of the house with snot on my sleeves, a diaper in my pocket, and begging for just a 20-minute nap for myself. So have a lot of fathers. It’s not the way we are portrayed though.
Even in this day and age fathers are written as aloof idiots, over-protective Neanderthals, or nonexistent and emotionally unavailable. It’s such a prevailing cliché that it’s openly said on a panel that discusses the act of parenting.
That’s what I’m railing against. Fathers need a seat at the table and instead, we are met with gatekeeping that pushes us to the fringes. Our problems and concerns don’t seem to matter because…I’m not really sure why. How hard is it at times to be a fatherhood writer? Well, this is not the first time I’ve been told things like this. You have to have a thick skin as a writer, and you need to double it up as a man who writes about parenting.
I find one of the biggest mistakes that we make in the parenting writing world is that we don’t listen. We take our experiences and don’t put them in the larger realm of the world. We become myopic and fail to see the bigger picture. That’s why I read work by Cindy DiTiberio, Amanda Montei, Julie Vick, Jen Mann, and a host of others. And a shout out to Shelly Mazzanoble who I just discovered this year. Funny, hell yes. And she wrote a book about D & D! My inner barbarian bard sings with joy. Their perspective, passion, and unbelievable humor make me a better writer. They make me a better father.
That’s what AWP and the parenting writing world are missing. Perspective. In a place where it’s important to listen, there is also a need to be heard. For fathers, we are not there yet.