Fathering and Activism: How Being a Dad Impacts my Efforts for Gender Justice (and Vice Versa)

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By Rus Ervin Funk

I was an activist for gender and racial justice long before I became a father. Perhaps because of that, becoming a father (rather late in life – I was 46 when my child was born) was an experience that I found to be mutual influencing: becoming a dad has influenced my activism, and my activism influences my daddying. NRCDV (National Resource Center on Domestic Violence) invited me to share some of my experience and reflect on these mutual influencing dynamics as a part of recognizing Father’s Day.

Before I begin, however, I feel a need to note an important aspect of fatherhood for me. Traditionally, Father’s Day is a day where we, as dads, are honored and celebrated. While I appreciate having a day to celebrate mySelf as a dad, and the chance to honor my dad and what I learned from him, it’s also true that I need to honor my son. I wouldn’t be a dad if it weren’t for him. Furthermore, being his dad has vastly improved who I am as a person. We don’t have a “children’s day” where we get to honor and celebrate our children and the gifts we receive from them, so I share Father’s Day with him.

Practicing fatherhood as a white man, raising a white male child, in the context of relentless and intensifying white and male supremacy is an intentional journey that requires relentless attention. I am parenting while white, striving toward racial justice; I parent while male striving towards gender justice. But also (at this moment) parenting in the context of a global pandemic that has profoundly re-shaped and expanded my parenting responsibilities.

One lesson I learned from being a dad to K is that “practice makes progress.” I was raised to believe that “practice makes perfect.” The resulting perfectionism significantly hampered my activism and my initial daddying. My need to “do it right” meant I often hesitated to do anything (on countering racism or sexism) because I wasn’t convinced it would be right enough; and resulted in my being overly harsh with mySelf when I failed (often acting outwards with my harshness when I felt too ashamed to own my failure as my own).

I was raised to be a perfectionist. Through raising K, I have come to accept that there is no such thing as perfect, and progress is a much more meaningful (and achievable) goal than perfection. Perfectionism is not only a “quality” instilled in me by my family, but is also a value that is deeply ingrained as a part of white supremacy and patriarchy. A value that has been put in place, and is used, by white people and by men (respectively) to rationalize not being more active in efforts for racial and gender justice.

I am not now, nor will I ever be the parent that I want to be – or the parent that K actually deserves. I am not now, nor will I ever be the activist that I want to be or that people and groups I seek to ally with deserve. I don’t say that from a sense of failure or defeat, but rather from a place of honest assessment. There are ways I am a really good dad, who is also deeply flawed. There are ways that I am an extremely effective activist, who makes mistakes and missteps on a regular basis. Acknowledging that I work in progress, as a work in progress, allows me to more honestly and accountably notice the progress I’m making while attending to my flaws, mistakes and missteps. Being a dad has taught me how to acknowledge my failings (as a dad and as an activist), transparently own them, apologize and make amends to my son, while also holding some self-compassion for being enough. Some of the lessons I’m learning (and practicing) include:

  • It’s never too late to apologize or to make amends for my mistakes – whether this is in my daddying, or in my activism.
  • I can make progress and make mistakes – these aren’t mutually exclusive (as I used to believe).
  • Every day is another day to make progress. I can reflect on the lessons I learned yesterday – including the lessons I learn from the missteps and mistakes, and use that to make strides today… and tomorrow.
  • To not fear my flaws, my mistakes, my missteps. Robin DiAngelo refers to an array of dynamics (including striving for perfectionism, fearing making mistakes, etc) as part of “white fragility.” I have experienced a host of parallel fragilities – male fragility, heterosexual fragility, and fathering fragility. But by relating to my flaws and mistakes as an opportunity to continue making progress, I find mySelf becoming less fragile in a host of ways.
  • Sometimes being humiliated is a doorway to humility. Acknowledging my faults feels humiliating sometimes, but feeling humiliated is not always a bad thing.

Being a white male father raising a white male child with feminist and anti-racist values in a society built on white male supremacy is deeply difficult. I find mySelf wondering about how I’m doing as a parent generally, how I am raising my son to challenge white male supremacy, and how I may be inadvertently reinforcing white and male supremacist values. In addition to all of this, the current context of a global pandemic and physical distancing calls for new forms of activism and advocacy. But daddying, like activism, is a work of constantly striving (more than achieving). In my dual roles as a father and as an activist, I focus on making strides towards peace and liberation, alongside my partner (K’s mom) and K. On this Father’s Day, I say again, how deeply grateful I am to K for being a part of my striving.

Hear More:

Listen to Rus along with stories of other activist fathers on the newly-released NRCDV Radio podcast, Stories of Transformation: Honoring Advocate Fathers.

Join the Conversation:

Join the webinar hosted by the North American MenEngage Network, Mobilizing Dads to Promote Gender Equity, on June 18, 2020.

Explore Resources:

 

Original Sourse:

Funk, Rus. “Fathering and Activism: How Being a Dad Impacts my Efforts for Gender Justice (and Vice Versa).” Domestic Violence Awareness Project. NRCDV. 15 June 2020. https://dvawareness.org/node/67