As many of you know, my parents are college professors.  My mother’s an economist, which gives an inclination to look at things without getting lost in too much distraction.  The best and worst thing about economics is that it’s a just-so science, after all.  Thank goodness she’s legitimately the fairest person I’ve ever met–and I ain’t saying that just because she’s my mama, and more than a few readers of this blog could second that–for otherwise, I’d probably be a bit of an android.  Instead, I’m the nicest guy you never knew was nice.  Really.
My father, on the other hand, is a political scientist.  More specifically, he’s a political epistemologist.  Or, in layman’s terms, he thinks about stuff and ponders how and why people think about stuff.  It’s a great skill.  I kinda wish I was formally trained in it rather than just having a tacit knowledge of the skill.  Then, I’d know better when and when not to check out how and why people do the things they do.
And I wouldn’t annoy my girlfriend nearly as much.  When applied to everyday life, epistemology is a lot like fielding in baseball–a success rate of 95% just ain’t good enough at times.
Anyway, here’s the coolest thing about having a father with an active understanding of how to e-mail and a knack for epistemology–he sends me some of the stuff he thinks about.  It’s like having a father that works as a chef and brings food home for work.
So he sent me a paper he presented on the role of black males in the continuation–and on the converse, eradication–of the oppression of black women.  He and I are in agreement that black women are the most oppressed people in this country.  While the attention black men get from police is incredibly annoying, black women are burdened with the same responsibilities as black men while receiving far less for doing what they’re supposed to do.  That’s pretty foul.
The old man framed discussion around the responsibilities fathers have in how they raise their daughters.  Not just that simple-minded “keep her off the pole” madness.  It’s about how fathers need to empower their daughters’ ambitions, teaching them to “fly” rather than “perch.”
The old man’s dead on with this one.  I don’t think I need to explain it much deeper than that.  I apologize for offering a substandard synopsis of the paper, but I dont’ have the freedom to post it for you to see.
What I do have is the perspective of someone who’s life has begun to include considering my role in things like that.  I’ve always joked that, if I had daughters, I’d send them straight to the orphanage, simply because I know I’d be putty in their hands.  I see dudes at the store, I’ve got buddies with daughters, and they’re all suckers for their daughters.  They can get sons in line without thinking twice, but they’re powerless to hearing Daaaaaady!  I don’t wanna be that guy.
And just because I don’t want to be that guy, I’m probably gonna wind up with three daughters like their mama.  Which means I’ll be totally powerless, and I’ll have to walk through the grocery story with a shotgun to let them cats know I mean business.
But reading the old man’s paper made me realize the hardest thing for men raising daughters–that which lurks within them that they don’t realize is present.  The same way it’s impossible to navigate through this culture without internalizing some measure of white supremacy (or adopting black/Asian/Hispanic/etc. supremacy as a defense and being just as wrong, but in a different way), it’s hard not to get some sexism about you if you live in this country.  It’s just impossible.  So much is there and ingrained, and we’re typically not trained to recognize it.  We see it as how things should be, largely because that’s how they are.  Those two things aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive, but they ain’t the same.
It’s tough to wrap my mind around that responsibility.  I hear all the time about dudes who start seeing the world totally differently once they have daughters, and I totally believe it.  I never had a little sister, so I never had to consider how things I’d do would affect her and the hypocrisy that points out.  For the most part, I think I’ve done okay.  But I also have a bit of a know-it-all streak–an unfortunate by-product of knowing everything!!!–which surely doesn’t get better when dealing with women.  I’m not positive of that, but I think it’s a safe guess.  After all, I grew up in this world.
How dreadful would it be to pass some foul, potentially paralyzing attitudes on without knowing it?  Dude, that’s really spooky.  If that’s me, I hope the kids will be smart enough to listen to my lady…and learn from her when not to listen to me.  Necessary skill that is.
I doubt this makes a great deal of sense, at least not in the name of cohesion.  But as I’ve reached the point where my life ain’t just mine anymore, I’ve realized the great level of responsibility that comes with that.  It’s a responsibility few of us are prepared for when that time comes.  And now that time is here and ain’t going nowhere, I better get ready.
Especially before there are even more people to worry about.