untitled

 

O Father Where Art Thou?

 

Shalom Beloved Sisterhood,
 
Sing forth sweet praises unto YAHWAH!  For Abba has blessed us by allowing us to see another day, in that we can correct that which we erred in yesterday.  We must begin to get our houses in order sisterhood, for truly YAH Soon Come!
 
This topic is one that my eesh/husband and I were discussing one day as he shared with me an article in Newsweek Magazine, which is where I got the title for this topic, “O Father, Where Art Thou?”
 
 
The article speaks about the elusive black fathers figures in the black family, but not only that, it also speaks about those black fathers that may not be in the homes, but are and want to be involved in their children's lives.
 
 
I know that this subject maybe a touchy one for many of you due to your own personal experiences, but I think it would be great if we could all speak on it this week, and in speaking and sharing, maybe we can shed some light on the subject, offer some help to one another, give encouragement where there is none, and show love where it is needed.  Therefore if you would care to share your thoughts on this topic, please use the forum page on this site to do so.
 
 
On that note...
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
fathers, black, families
 
The Un-Huxtables: Paul Coates (top) had a sprawling family,
 but he was there for Ta-Nehisi (with the doll),
 as he was for all his children
 
 
 
 
 
O Father, Where Art Thou?
 
Statistics show disturbing rates of absent black fathers, but a new book depicts the nuance behind the numbers.
 
Joshua Alston
NEWSWEEK
Updated: 2:33 PM ET May 10, 2008
 
 
Ta-Nehisi Coates grew up in the type of family unit that causes census takers to develop stomach ulcers. His father, Paul, was a bit of a free spirit, which is how it came to be that he fathered Coates and his six siblings with four different women. Despite this peculiar scenario, Paul was an active, present father in all his kids' lives. Coates certainly had his share of issues growing up in a tumultuous corner of Baltimore, but as he writes in his new memoir, "The Beautiful Struggle," his father was a source of security and stability in a neighborhood subject to rampant, random violence. "I don't know if there's an environmental explanation for why my father was the way he was," says Coates, 33. "For some reason, he just took being a father really seriously."
 
The engaged black father is an elusive character in popular culture. The percentage of black children living in fatherless homes—roughly 50 percent—has perpetuated an orthodoxy that black men are irresponsible and indifferent to fatherhood. Authors such as Coates are in a position to change that. In addition to "Struggle," last year saw the release of two photo-essay books, Carol Ross's "Pop" and Rachel Vassel's "Daughters of Men," which aimed to show black men celebrating their love for their children.
 
There's much damage to undo. From "Papa Was a Rolling Stone" to the men who appear on "The Maury Show" and nervously await the results of paternity tests, we're bombarded with the image of black men as deadbeats. That image has given rise to pessimism within the black community: according to a Pew Research study conducted last year, more than two thirds of blacks say that today's fathers are doing a worse job than fathers did 20 or 30 years ago. Of the whites polled for the study, only 44 percent said the same. It is this fear of the rapid extinction of black fathers that provides Bill Cosby, the vanilla comedian turned culture warrior, his raison d'être: correcting the ills of the black community with up-by-the-bootstraps straight talk. Cosby has spent years traveling the country, exhorting packed crowds of black men to be better fathers, fathers not unlike Cliff Huxtable, the upper-class patriarch he played on his '80s sitcom.
 
But images of the Huxtable archetype can be psychologically deleterious. As uplifting a story as is, say, "The Pursuit of Happyness"—the memoir of single father Chris Gardner (and, later, a Will Smith movie)—its primary focus is on Gardner's struggle to provide his son financial security. This reinforces the notion that a man's value as a father only goes as far as his ability to earn money. "What's important to black men in a society that has a fair amount of racism is a notion of manhood," says Mark Anthony Neal, an associate professor of black popular culture at Duke University. "Manhood is all they have, and what that usually means in our culture is the ability to provide for your family financially."
 
This role is easy to fill when you're Snoop Dogg, the millionaire rapper who stars in his own family reality show. But for low-income, low-skilled black men, keeping consistent employment isn't always easy. A 2007 study noted that a black father's ability to financially contribute is one of the biggest determinants of whether he stays in the home. "There's a host of evidence noting that men who cannot fulfill the breadwinner role often experience distress and interruptions in positive engagement in family life," says Boston University professor Rebekah Levine Coley, who worked on the study. Low-income, low-skilled men are culturally expected not to care about being good fathers, and those who do care feel like failures when they cannot meet a definition of successful fatherhood in which being the breadwinner is the sole metric. This conundrum gives rise to the absentee father, the lion who would rather be proud than lead his pride.
 
But most black fathers aren't the flawless, idealized Huxtables nor the shiftless, irresponsible "Maury" deadbeats. Like Paul Coates, they're somewhere in between, fathers who built families without much forethought, but with an abundance of love and leadership. Many black fathers have found this middle ground. The Coley study also found that black fathers who don't reside in the home are more likely to sustain regular contact with their children than fathers of any other racial group. It's true that children are statistically better off when raised by a married couple—the Huxtable model should be the ideal—but unmarried, nonresident fathers shouldn't be made to feel like failures. In order to reduce rates of absentee black fathers, we must learn to view fatherhood as an à la carte menu, not a prix fixe.
 
"The Beautiful Struggle" could certainly lend to this cultural shift, but it'll be a hard-fought battle. When Coates, a freelance writer by trade, wrote a critical piece on Cosby's crusade, his dad called and read him the riot act for attacking Cosby's message. "We disagreed, but it's cool," says Coates. "He raised us to be critical thinkers." In order to change those alarming statistics, father and son—along with the rest of us—will have to come to a consensus on what constitutes a good father. For now, what matters is that when Paul's son writes a piece, he reads it, then calls to give the kind of lecture that only a father can give his son.
 
 

Sisters, what do you think are some of the reasons why many of the fathers of our children are not in the homes with us?  Is it "all" of the brothas fault?  Did/do we have something to do with why they are not in the home with us helping to raise our children?" 
 
 
Could one of the reasons be that our "mouths" have run the brothas out of the homes?  Could it be that they have left or was forced out because they would not bend the knee to how "we" think a "man" should be or do things?  We are women, men do not parent the same as we do ladies.  Has Babylon/European Culture defined to us how a "father" is suppose to parent, and act with our children, and we have come to expect our men to tow that line?  Are you serious?
 
Another question that I have is this..."if the father of the child(ren) is not in the home, and the child begins to have some behavior problems, etc, are we, as their mothers, quick to say that it's the father's fault because he is not here with the child, or do we look at ourselves and ask ourselves how did I contribute to my child's problem since he/she has been here with me only?"
 
Now I do know that there are some "no good" men out there who are and just want to be "sperm donors" and that's it, but on the flip side of that, there are truly good and righteous men out there that want to be with their children, raising them along with the mothers.  Therefore, what are we going to or are we willing to do about this?
 
In Messiah,
AnaYah
 
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
 
(Article from Blacktown.net)

During the 1970s there was a popular TV show that all blacks loved about a poor black family living in a housing project. But what made the show so enjoyable was the fact that there was a beautiful strong black father figure who loved his family and was indeed in command and authority over the trials and struggles they were overcoming.

Actor John Amos was brilliant in his role as a black father who, although poor, was a man of virtue, honor, honesty, and integrity. He loved his afro wearing wife and all of his children; including his oldest son who was the somewhat immature comic of the family. This black father refused to let society's numerous tricks and traps, entrap him and his beloved family!!! The name of the show was Good Times.

But the tragedy was that white supremacy once again, reared its ugly head, and stepped in and destroyed this "black authority figure". John Amos was removed from the show because of the show's producers and directors growing emphasis on the "silly buffoonery" of the son; played by professional comedian J.J. Walker.

So, as a result, and in typical racist style, John Amos' character of a strong black father and role model was killed in the show and their family became the now proverbial "single mom household".

And it is no coincidence that this occurred during the 1970s just when Feminism was taking root in American society, and therefore, a "strong black father figure" was seen as "out of character" according to the fags and sissies who control Hollywood.

This TV show was the first and only "real" black family that had been portrayed since television was invented in the 1950s!!!! Yet, there were numerous shows about white families with father figures in authority. Leave It To Beaver, My Three Sons, and Father Knows Best, to name just a few!!!!

 


BLACK PEOPLE LOVED AND ADORED THE STRONG FATHER FIGURE
THAT ACTOR JOHN AMOS PORTRAYED ON THE
1970s TV SHOW GOOD TIMES!!!!

BUT HOLLYWOOD HATED IT,
BECAUSE BLACKMEN ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE
IN AUTHORITY OVER ANYTHING...
NOT EVEN HIS OWN FAMILY!!!


 



 


Report Content · · Web Hosting · Blog · Guestbooks · Message Forums · Mailing Lists
Easiest Website Builder ever! · Build your own toolbar · Free Talking Character · Email Marketing
powered by a free webtools company bravenet.com