Let's hear it for the men...
My cheeky Sunday instagram scroll was in turn delightful, a little nauseating and occasionally sad. Here it rolled again… the Fathers’ Day tidal wave of appreciation.
In the main, I thoroughly enjoyed a little stalking into so many lives of people I’ve either only met once or haven’t seen for 20+ years: fathers pushing beaming faces on bikes, lifting squealing toddlers into the air or clutching little hands as they run into the waves. Some of the posts, and their accompanying ‘my man’s the best’ love-letters induced a little nausea - (especially those with musical soundtracks) - whilst others, dedicated to much-loved departed fathers like my own, evoked familiar twinges of sadness and loss.
Two specific thoughts occurred to me. The first, how Fathers Day seems now to be pretty much the only day in the calendar we’re allowed to celebrate everyday men en-masse (albeit a paternal subset) and the second, of gratitude… and how having had a great father and/or sharing your parenting with one is probably one of life’s greatest privileges for which most can claim little to no credit (nor blame should they have been denied this). Let’s muse.
1.
In this era of ‘Girl Power’, ‘Ovaries before Brovaries’ and ‘Vive la Vulva’ (sorry) it’s noteworthy how rare it is to find such an explosion of positive stories where everyday men are concerned. Individual high-profile men (politicians, business-leaders etc) might still have more than their fair share of power, news and coverage - but everyday, faceless men as a collective are more commonly bound up in conversations around ‘mansplaining’, ‘manspreading’ or ‘toxic-masculinity’. On Fathers’ Day, for one day only, we see an antithesis of this narrative.
We witness the mass celebration of good men and much loved, emotionally-present fathers - in person and across social media. Grainy pictures of corduroy-wearing fathers in the 70s/80s cuddling dungaree-wearing children alongside shinier images of the current generation, embracing modern fatherhood - both praised effusively in the commentaries for their sleeves-rolled-up, active, loving parenting.
No doubt it’s acceptable because these posts and stories reinforce one of the key, critical tenets of feminism (yes, even my feminism)... that of equality in the home. And possibly also because despite any degree of acceptance that patriarchy is still a huge problem these posts aren’t about ‘men’ generally - they’re of ‘my’ man and ‘this’ special man. It’s only striking on this one day as our other moments of individual appreciation are diluted across the year on birthdays and anniversaries.
I find it a refreshing antidote. There seem to be a lot of them! Negative ‘lived experience’ in the form of tragic, shocking stories dominate the news-cycle and serve to demonstrate just how far we seemingly still are from equality, but positive ‘lived experience’ is rarely held up by way of counterbalance. A nothing-to-see-here happy childhood or marriage will never top the autobiography charts (damn it) and whilst the fact that married people are 9.9% happier than singles might make an obscure internet article, a high profile abusive partner story with photos can fill a Sunday supplement spread and trend online for 3 days.
‘Not all men’ is widely shot down as unhelpful and destructive to progress. We can’t celebrate the good as it risks complacency. Yet ‘But of course, not mine’ is simultaneously silently felt by many who are outwardly happy to condemn systemic patriarchy (at least until their partners’ careers/ family finances are negatively affected by positive discrimination - and yes, those muttered grumbles are starting - weirdly, I seem to have become a magnet for them. Other men can ‘step aside’ but why ‘theirs’?).
I have never denied for a moment that there are still battles worth fighting but as I discussed in my ‘Antidoters’ series, I do fear that all this negativity inevitably affects our perception of the world and leads to unintended side products: A depressed sense of a grossly unfair world; a potentially even lower inclination of women towards male-dominated fields they’re told are biased against them; or the misdiagnosis of personal setbacks as being due to our sex as opposed to something unique to us (i’ve witnessed this a lot in women I mentor) - it’s too easy to let ourselves off the hook.
Recently we’ve seen the rapid decline in the number of men willing to mentor women and whilst possibly not fair to lay solely at the door of doom-feminism, a growing tension/ reticence between the sexes. Did you know young people are getting laid a lot less these days (pre Covid stats) or that a quarter of women born in the 70s are expected to reach 45 without giving birth - the majority by circumstance, not by choice? (Incredibly moving Tortoise piece here).
2.
And then there were the empathetic posts standing in solidarity with those feeling bereaved or disadvantaged in the dad-lottery on this day of gratitudinal incontinence.
When looking at the statistics, I realise how significant a privilege this is. In the UK 14.7% of children grow up in single-parent (most commonly ‘fatherless’) households - a statistic that differs dramatically across different ethnic and socio-economic groups (e.g. 19% for White British vs. >60% for Black Caribbean/ Black Other groups vs 7% for Indian (ONS). Fewer than half - 45% - of those in the bottom income quintile are married vs. 85% in the top (Centre for Social Justice Report 2020).
In 2008, Barack Obama said the following in a Fathers Day speech.
Too many fathers… [are] missing – missing from too many lives and too many homes. They have abandoned their responsibilities, acting like boys instead of men. And the foundations of our families are weaker because of it… We know that more than half of all black children live in single-parent households, a number that has doubled – doubled[!] – since we were children. We know the statistics – that children who grow up without a father are five times more likely to live in poverty and commit crime; nine times more likely to drop out of schools and twenty times more likely to end up in prison.
I’m sure I’m not alone in finding those correlations with an absent father to be pretty shocking and yet they’re little spoken of or explored in the mainstream - at least to my knowledge. In the UK, I vaguely recall Iain Duncan-Smith banging on about the importance of family in his unfashionable ‘tough on the causes of crime’ initiative a decade or so ago (Ah, there it is!), and maybe a comment from David Lammy MP a few years back about absent fathers being a factor in gang/ knife crime (found it) - but as a rule, we see very little commentary these days on the role of family or cultural structures in different ethnic/ social-class outcomes.
The CRED report tried to shed some light recently but was angrily dismissed in the media (including by Lammy) for seeming to push back on the idea of ‘systemic racism’ (I recommend reading the full report, and much of its counter-intuitive data for yourself. There are many valid criticisms of its agenda e.g. in here, but the majority of critics evidently didn’t read it). Or perhaps the subject is avoided for fear of seeming to stigmatise single mothers, who are understandably heroes in most people’s eyes. mine included. (How the hell do they cope when, between the two of us, we still manage to forget World Book Day and are now averaging 0.9 baths a week? In our defense, they do go swimming on Fridays).
No matter which definitions or identities of ‘privilege’ you lean into, the presence of two loving, supporting parents during your childhood and a loving partner in your parenting journey have to be among the most significant when it comes to your life chances.
This, to be clear, is my very fortunate experience. I certainly won the lottery with both and I feel this gratitude keenly. I have observed at close hand the tragic ramifications of parental loss or alienation on children in my extended family and amongst close friends and the monumental challenges that single parents experience daily. Much more needs to be done to support these families and the communities most affected.
And yes, I did my own instagram post on Sunday (pictured above). It was of the 3 hilariously witty cards I selected for each of my children to give their father. A snapshot of the current obsessions and family in-jokes that I know will disappear into a dimly lit family memory vault. Minecraft, dinosaurs and farting unicorns.
Probabaly more me showing off than showing him off. But I know. And he knows (now at least).
This man enjoyed this. 😁