If you've not had a good father, it is necessary to invent one.
-- Friedrich Nietzsche
I've been fortunate in this lifetime. Since I have a real one, I haven't had to
invent a good father. My father always provided, protected, cared for, and
loved me. He gave me a love of the printed and spoken word, and a belief in
myself and a power greater than humankind. He never hit or shamed me. He never
made me feel less important than my brothers. Unfortunately, he also provided a
model for the role of husband that has been difficult to replicate. As a
youngster, however, because my father wasn't like the take-charge models of
manhood in the movies, I decided to marry someone like them instead of someone
like him.
While that decision provided a less than ideal match for my life partner, it
did produce a decent father for my children. Our family breakup was in the
early days of the era when divorce was transitioning from rare to commonplace,
when mothers always got custody of the children, and there were few laws or
guidebooks concerning non-custodial daddy duty. Somehow, even while living
hundreds of miles away for much of our daughters' childhood, my ex still
managed to be an ongoing presence and major influence in their lives.
The examples in this latest generation range from the rare father in biology
or name only to the much more common equal parent and even custodial parents.
Fathers on television have morphed as well, from the "Honey, I'm home!"
father-as-worker model to the much more hands-on parent. Even bumbling Homer
Simpson and Ozzy Osbourne, while a far cry from the Father Knows
Best-era TV dads, seem much more real and complex than the plastic TV dads
of the past.
There's also a range of print definitions for father. My old Random House
dictionary has 21 definitions for the word, ranging from "a male parent," to
"to charge with the begetting of." In between are all those other fatherly
roles, like "any man who exercises parental care over another," "a title of
respect for an old man," "one of the leading men in the town, city, etc.," "a
priest," and "the Supreme Being and Creator; God."
"Fatherly," I'm told in this big book, "has emotional connotations to it: it
always suggests a kind, protective, tender or forbearing attitude." I had to
look up forbearing, as it's not a word you hear a lot these days. Now I know
why. The definition is, "patient or self-controlled when subject to annoyance
or provocation." Having grown up with a kind, protective, tender and forbearing
father, I have a real problem with some of the current brand of civic and
religious fathers, who may have had to invent their own.
While the number of fondling fathers in the priesthood is a small minority,
we've likely only seen the tip of the iceberg of those misused and abused by
the Father Friendlies of the church. When rape was emerging from the shadows,
it was estimated that 10 rapes went unreported for each one that was
documented. This is probably true regarding the current disgrace regarding the
church, and the ratio may be even higher.
Think about the dilemma for a male needing to admit, in today's world of
six-pack abs and warrior mentality, having been sexually abused by another man.
How has this kind of disclosure affected those who carry that secret inside? A
male acquaintance who had been abused by his male mentor-father figure once
admitted to me that he "screwed as many women as I could to prove to the world,
but mostly to myself that I wasn't gay."
Shame on us for shaming homosexuality. We put so many innocents in harm's way,
all in the name of God. Where is the kind, protective, tender forbearance in
that? A Vatican contact informs me the Catholic Church in America is viewed as
the major offender for handling the priest abuse situation so badly. This isn't
a gay issue and it's not a celibacy issue, she writes. The issue is one of a
breach of trust, and "anyone with a brain cell would consider it unsafe to put
a known abuser in a position of trust and power in contact with children." We
can only imagine the ripple effect of all those affected by the abusing fathers
of the church.
There is no reason to believe that there is one law for families and another
for nations.
-- Mahatma Gandhi
Let's jump to the civic arena, locally and nationally. Close to home, our
city's leader is spending most of his time in court these days. Regardless of
the outcome of the case, isn't this a good time to review the criteria for the
leaders of our communities? Is it impossible to find someone who is kind,
protective, tender, and forbearing toward all the city's children, who can
still "do good things for the city?" Some thoughtful, intelligent acquaintances
answer that question "yes," and are saddened by their response.
At the national level, the talk these days is all about homeland security.
Providing security for the home has always been a big part of the traditional
role of fathers. As someone who has had the luxury of never feeling insecure in
my father's house, I'm feeling mighty insecure these days. For those who have
had to invent a good father, corruption, greed, paranoia, and unnecessary
violence may seem like acceptable ingredients in the mix, but they only put us
at more risk. The president of the United States is often referred to as one of
the most powerful men on the planet. Start thinking of his administration's
national policies and global actions as if they were your father's policies and
actions in the house. Do they really make you feel more secure?
According to Hindu belief, we are in the age of Kali -- the fourth and final
stage of creation when Mother turns Destroyer because the race of men becomes
violent and sinful, failing to perceive deity in the feminine principle. Signs
of the approaching doomsday include a breakdown of social structures, an
increase in violence and crime and decline of human intelligence. Hmmmm . . .
I recently watched two movies about father figures: Life As a House and
My First Mister. They seemed like the same story in many respects. In
one, the specter of death played a big part in jumpstarting the kind,
protective, tender, forbearing father within. I hope it's not an allegory for
our times, but I think the answer will depend on the fathers in the house.
Pam Steager can be reached at pamsteager@earthlink.net.
Issue Date: June 14 - 20, 2002