The case for Father’s Day

I received a call yesterday from, a radio producer asking me to come on the air and talk about Father’s Day. She wanted to address the differential between the celebration of Mother’s Day, a pretty big deal by-and-large, and Father’s Day, maybe a hastily-wrapped necktie.

Was it important to celebrate fathers?

What role do dads play today relative to a generation or two ago?

How important are fathers to healthy development? To self-esteem?

Are dads necessary?

This got me thinking.

A generation ago, I wrote my doctoral dissertation on the gender balance of roles within households. Specifically, I was trying to determine how balanced, or not, gender roles were in parenting. My thesis going in – not balanced at all.

My research wasn’t great: small sample sizes, a skewed population, a hastily-written paper. But this part was true: mothers did the vast majority of the work of parenting. And as you might guess, it wasn’t even close.

Moms made the meals, virtually all of them. Moms helped with the homework. Mom did the laundry, made the beds, attended parent-teacher conferences, games, plays, recitals, all the things. Moms fed the colds and starved the fevers, or the other way around. Moms stayed up to make sure everyone was home safe and tucked in.

That’s pretty much it. Moms did all the things. As in previous generations, dads by-and-large felt they fulfilled their roles by bringing home the cash.

This type of research has been replicated recently, and man, have things changed in a generation.

But just a little.

Today, dads attend some games, maybe playoffs. They’ll sit through the play, but maybe just one night, not the entire run. They might show up for the parent-teacher conference. That unheralded work in the home? Well, mom still does the majority of that, even though she works about the same number of hours outside the home on average as dad does.

Kind of seems like I’m making a case for Mother’s Day, not Father’s Day, doesn’t it?

But here’s the thing. I’ve noticed a change in dads over the course of my career, since I wrote that paper. Not long after that, I started writing about parenting, and speaking to parenting groups. A decade ago, I would invite the sparse few men present in my audiences to stand. There was usually just a smattering, maybe a percent or two of the whole crowd. The moms would applaud these men for just being there.

In the past few years, however, dads are showing up. And they’re not just showing up because they’re told to. Nope, they’re more involved every day. They know what’s going on with their kids more than they ever have, and certainly more than their fathers knew about their childhood. Dads are starting to step up. It’s a slow roll, but it’s not a standstill.

I think the pandemic was a dividing line for a lot of dads, a revelation. I’ve heard from many men that they didn’t know what their kids were like pre-pandemic. They didn’t know what their days and nights looked and felt like. They didn’t really talk to them or get to know them before March 2020.

And before that, these dads tell me they didn’t know how much they didn’t know. Many of these guys seemed shocked at the thoughtful depth of their kids, their range of interests, how amazing they are, and how very stressed they are.

But during that bizarre, traumatic reprieve from the outside world, dads were physically there, actually with their kids. They watched their kids shows, because what else are they gonna do in this house all day long? They listened to their kids’ music more. They sat and played video games. They asked about relationships. They asked about what was going on in their kids’ lives, in their Zoom classes. They asked if they liked anybody in their class.

Some dads asked their kids if they were scared. Some kids said yes, but not about the pandemic, but a whole host of other elements of their worlds.

For the first quarter century of my practice, referral calls and emails were almost always placed or written by moms. Moms would accompany their kids, be they boys or girls, to their first session. Usually to all of their sessions. Some moms had to pitch therapy to dads, selling them on the idea of investing in the mental well-being of their kids.

The good news is, I think those days are gone forever. The better news is that a lot of those calls and texts and emails for referrals are coming from dads. And many moms still accompany their kids to that first therapy session, that anxiety-provoking hour where we hope something is going to change for the better. But now, the therapy couch needs to be a little bit wider. Because dad’s often there as well.

I got a call from a dad recently, and he was concerned about his 17-year-old daughter who’s been icing him out. This was not typical of their relationship. He didn’t violate her confidence, didn’t ask me for a single detail. He just wanted to know if she was OK.

She was. They were having a moment, but she knew he loved her and cared. His concern was, frankly, quite lovely. The point is, not long ago I never would have received that type of call from a dad. Dads weren’t plugged in the way.

They are now.

A week ago, I received an email from the father of a 22-year-old man who had just graduated from college. His son had no job lined-up, and seemed down and listless. Dad was deeply concerned. I wrote him back, suggesting we talk over the weekend because I was working late on that particular night.

He asked me to call him after work regardless.

He told me his son’s story, that he was diagnosed with depression, anxiety, ADHD, you name it, by the time he was 10. He had been to more than a dozen therapists. Dad thought he was out of the woods once he started college, and was so very upset that his guy was struggling once again.

I told him I was booked solid for the next couple of months, but I would try to find him a referral. This man started crying on the phone, despondent that he was talking to yet another therapist who was failing to provide concrete answers for his son. I told him I would reach out if anyone canceled, but I didn’t want him to count on it.

As luck would have it, the following Monday a client canceled their appointment. Honestly, I was overjoyed to be able to call this dad and tell him I had an opening. More than an hour and a half before the planned meeting time, I heard someone enter my waiting room. It was these two men.

This was a dad showing up. And the good news is that it’s less and less novel every time I see it happen.

So yes, I would argue that Father’s Day is officially legit. Fathers are worth celebrating. They are super important in the lives of our kids.

And it’s not just because dads are role models for their boys, or girls. It’s not just so they can show their kids what a kind, thoughtful, respectful relationship looks like. Though that is all true.

It’s more than that. Men are becoming more open and vulnerable with their feelings. You see it on talk shows, in sports, and even in scripted TV. If you haven’t heard, masculinity is changing, and the nature of fatherhood is changing right along with it. Sensitivity and emotionality and vulnerability are the coolest things guys can display these days.

And that’s good news for the future of parenthood, the future of fatherhood.

Because more and more, dads get it now. They get that the connection they have with their kids matters, carries real weight in the way their kids feel.

I’m also hearing from dad’s a lot lately that they understand what their own fathers missed. There is joy in parenting, and historically, fathers have not played a huge role in that joy. They’ve been on the outside, not even bothering to look in.

But over the past several years, whether it’s due the pandemic or a change in our definition of masculinity or some combination of both, men are no longer looking in. They are in.

Being in is the best place for a dad to be. Take it from a guy who knows. Being George’s dad has always been my favorite role, and as adults together now, I consider him the very best friend. Write that story, guys.

I also have this privilege of being in with so many kids in therapy. And it’s so good for my spirit to play a role in the lives of these kids. I’m thrilled that more and more dads are getting involved, playing a role in the joys and the wins, sure. But also guiding through the storms and struggles. There’s great privilege in that, and navigating those waters together drives a bond that cannot be erased. It may well be the most important thing in life.

And more and more dads are telling me they have no intention of missing the precious and fleeting moments of fatherhood. They don’t want to hear vicariously what their kids are like. Fathers want to know their children, learn with them, laugh with them, actively love them.

Let’s keep this trend going. Let’s let the cat out of the cradle, so to speak.

Happy Father’s Day, gentlemen!