Where The Brightest Minds Have The Darkest Corners
Tag Archives: fatherhood

NaPoWriMo 4:30 ~ Tandem Inspiration

by The AOMuse

Together
have we
tiptoed tepidly
through the cargo cabin
of a craft in flight
at 15 thousand feet
in elevation
from initial point
of lift off
clasping hands
while coasting closer
to the eminent cracking
of our equally
fragile egos

Last minute
deployment
of chutes
our only solace
from an impending
social demise

Once we thumb
wrestled
whilst each of us
rode a unicycle
over a packet
of homework
three sheets in length
leading to an argument
pleasing to neither
leaving she
with teary eyes
and I a fearsome
throbbing vessel
in my right temple

At the furious core
of this continuum
leaking with the
radioactive
half life
of excruciating anger
love is still burning
nuclear fusion
temperately
exceeding
my ability to be
acutely explosive
thus a meltdown
was scarcely averted

Two emotional
national entities
declared a treaty
of disarmament
where peace
on Earth
is a tenuous
prospect requiring
a patient gardener
to tend the field

We take chances
dancing lightly across
challenges
she holds steady
her core
atop my shoulders
I measure the base
where gravitational
balance lives

We give
We take
We break
We bargain
We fold our cards
We finish, focus and start again

Together
have we tiptoed tepidly
through the cargo cabin
measuring space, weight and utility
of each object contained therein
she co-pilots my flight captain
navigating unfriendly skies
each teaching the other
the latest maneuver
no didacticism required
the object is to be receptive
so that no one knocks us off
our plane.

Hearts filled with fuel
and recharged by the sun.

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This I Believe: Co-Parenting

by The AOMuse

“Parenting is a dance.” ~ from This I Believe: Communication & Dance

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Out of a bedrock of false starts, opaque walls and denied inspiration does this essay arise amongst the most difficult feelings I have struggled to capture thus far in this series.  I find myself fixed between the desire to indulge the fierce honesty which courses beneath the surface my present writing life while being careful of the temptation towards copious verbiage realizing that saying too much can be as broad a shield as saying too little.  My art is the proof and substance of that proverb.  Poetry is a whimsical suit fashioned in an attempt to clothe my failures and frailties in colorful garments that you might attend to them more readily than you do those other ugly things you are soon to learn about me.  This is why I am ever in conflict when writing about a thing which inspires either vexation or pain.  Do you see how I crouch behind the myth of my words?

“Co-parent” and “co-parenting” are two terms for which I have developed a certain zealous affinity as of late.  The story begins in the course of one typically awkward moment which most co-parents may find familiar where both are present in some social situation and a third party poses the question “Is this your wife/husband?”  Always accompanied by a precocious smile.  Both parents turn to each other for a brief, uncomfortable glance before issuing a nearly simultaneous “No.”  This is followed by a halfhearted and habituated explanation such as “this is Jah’kaya’s father/mother”.

 

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After enduring yet another of these curious encounters, I began to wonder to myself why I had allowed my relationship with Auset to be truncated inside of a term which implied the only connection we held was filtered through the affairs of our child.  I have envisioned my life as filled with lessons worthy to be understood not only by myself, but made available for the growth of others.  I began to ponder how I could redirect the language towards a more fitting understanding of how she and I are presently positioned in each other’s life when I began considering the term “co-parent”.

I am sure that I overheard the term in some previous discussion, but I don’t think I had come to grasp the full comprehension of it until just that moment.  We do not operate mutually exclusive drop off centers.  We interact with each other and plan together.  We talk to one another and discuss new prospects happening in each of our lives.  The degree to which we have been able to initiate an open discourse in our parental relationship has abridged the amount each parent must labor to be aware of what is going on in the life of our child.  As her needs change, we are able find ways in which each parent may adapt for the lack of availability of the other.

 

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No one should be struck with the romantic notion that this level of engagement came easily for either one of us.  We parted households soon after Jah’kaya was born.  I was certain I had failed and withdrew from our circle of mutual friends out of fear that I might be called to account for that failure.  I had been fired from a position at American Pharmaceutical Partners on December 31, 2001 which saw me take a 7 month free fall during which we lost our apartment in Woodlawn and found our relationship rapidly fracturing by the time we moved to a new location in Hyde Park.  We lingered on as most separated couples do seeking to ascertain if there was still the potential for making it work.  I recall telling my mother even a year after Jah’kaya’s birth I was certain that Auset and I would be together.  This would not come to pass.

We each navigated our way though those 5 stages of grief.  Denial.  “This is just a growth phase that we must to go through.  All will return to normal soon.”  Anger.  “If you would simply stop blaming me for (x), then you could see what you are missing.”  Bargaining.  “How can I change (y) so that we can make it whole again?”  Depression.  “I never want to think about love anymore.”  Acceptance.  “I’m sorry.  I understand.  How do we move forward?”

In my journey to stop blame shifting, I had to find the flaws in my own character which contributed to weakening the relationship including an unrealistic portrait of manhood bordering upon dictatorial patriarchy, a lack of communication about our shared problems and a desire to be independent of any need inside of the relationship.  We share mutual blame for its failure.  In working to repair the fractures of the past, I have continually reshaped my ideal of the person I bring into future relationships even once finding myself a dogmatic proponent institutional marriage as I again grappled with internalized patriarchy.

 

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Here I stand now nearly 10 years grown from that point on July 15, 2002 at 9:59 pm when Jah’kaya Sirius Tekhen entered this life and discovered me hastily attempting to retool myself into the sort of father required of such a dynamic human being.  Auset and I have managed to trade off through most of those years.  She facilitated birth and primary years through age 3.  I was able to preside over her enrollment at New Concept Development Center and later guided many of her activities between Kindergarten and 4th grade.  During my most recent career and contract transition, Auset has returned to directing Jah’kaya’s schedule again.

Through all of these iterations and changes in our individual adult lives, we communicate with one another.  I seek to help her not simply with the affairs of the child, but whatever process she might be engaging.  I recognize that to the extent I can make life easier for her, I make life more stable for our child and the familial community we have created around that child.

I am fortunate to have come from a pair of remarkable role models for a non-traditional, non-nuclear family unit.  My mother and father divorced when I was a mere 5 years of age.  I moved south with my mother soon thereafter where she was remarried to my stepfather, James.  He came with a daughter and son, Washay and Jayvonnie who remained in Chicago, but came to visit us on occasion in Louisiana.  My older brother, Rahsaan, and I would return to Chicago each summer where we were welcomed into the arms of a larger family as my father had remarried my stepmother, Geneva.  She brought with her 2 sons, Willie and Denardo as well as 2 daughters, Shayla and Shenitha.

 

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My mother and father throughout their own transition have remained steadfast friends.  I always knew my father and both respected and feared his authority.  I felt his love not only for me, but for my mother.  His proximity as a continuing co-parent was even known to make some of my mother’s future companions jealous.  As I have grown in life, my mother was also in the habit of adopting many other individuals into the fold of our growing family.  I have cousins as close as my own siblings and godsisters whom my mother treats the same as her own daughters.  Did I neglect to mention my oldest brother, Antoine, and oldest sister, Danielle?

All of these growth experiences together and those which I continue to encounter have shown me that only part of family consist of the ties we share by blood and birth.  Much of what holds us taut to each other is the substance of what we endure that draws us nearer together as a family unit.  I believe in co-parenting.  Both the word itself and the substance behind that word.  Time has certainly changed how families are formed.  While we have seen some detrimental effects of these changes where children are caught in the middle, co-parenting offers us the opportunity to change the paradigm and create a space where children are richly nurtured and allowed to prosper.  I made more than one choice when my relationship ended.  There was the decision that although Auset and I might not be right for each other, we could still be completely right together.  There are no more awkward meetings.  This is Auset and she is my co-parent.

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Johnathan ~ Jah’kaya ~ Auset

If you have found yourself on a co-parenting journey of your own, I highly recommend viewing the resources available at Co-Parenting 101.  While I have only discovered them within the past week of researching this article, I have found them to be an incredibly valuable resource for discovering new ways to make the act of parenting together a more richly rewarding experience for all members of the family.


Staking My Flag In Her Stability

by The AOMuse

Due to constraints of work, I have had to pull back in the level of participation which I can offer at Jah’kaya’s school.  While on the phone with her following cheer practice for a competition that I would not be able to attend, she and I were discussing her Young Inventors Project and the idea she had for building a solar house.  As scattered as a child’s mind can be, so was she.  She would jump to a discussion about practice and back to the solar house then forward to her trip to Huntville to see her grandmother.  The process can be exasperating when I am in one of my lecture modes.  I found this poem within me after that conversation.

See when I ain’t there
I ain’t there
But when I am there
I want to be all caught up
Underneath your hair
Like a neurotransmitter
Thought listening device
Embedded inside your skin
Like a splinter
You touched this Earth 5 days
After I honored my own rebirth
Nearness never got any simpler
So even when you age
When adolescence sees
Our luna(r)tic tendencies
Locked in mortal combat
I’ll remember
You named me “Father”
And our lifetime agreement
Offered no possibility
Of breach of contract
Therefore you can reach for contact
Or keep me as distant
As Earth’s surface
From the closest Comm. Sat.
I’ll still leave a line
Open for conversation
Never let my heart be closed
By parental consternation
Guide your feet towards independence
Like a North Star constellation
And when life is serving you losses
I’ll hold your ice cream consolation
For you are the #winning combination
Who slid to the midwife’s coaxing
With nary a complication
Burning conflagration
Tremendous enough to consume
Traces of my boyish exuberance
Maturity is the movement
And I’ll be damned if I ain’t doing it
Because I have one chance
To change her life
And the cost to this world
Is far too high to ruin it.

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No Wedding, No Womb: Too Simplistic for its Own Good?

by The AOMuse

No Wedding, No Womb! (NWNW) is a movement of bloggers that have been generating considerable steam since their "day of action" (paradox) on September 22nd.  I first caught wind of this event on NPR’s Tell Me More podcast with Michel Martin where Michel interviewed the founder, Christelyn Karazin, and Hampton Psychology Chair, Linda Malone-Colon.  As I listened to the points raised during this initial broadcast, I found no real disagreement with those ideas presented and even considered myself a less than ardent supporter of such a notion.  It was only later during a discussion around a post on the Contraband Marriage blog by Tichaona Chinyelu entitled "A Hierarchy of Children?" that I became aware of the nuance of my opinion about the entire dialogue.  This shall be my first entry in what may turn out to be a series of posts on the subject of No Wedding, No Womb coordinated between myself and Tichaona as we explore the dynamic of opinions that we as men and women share as well as where we might diverge on the issue of marriage, family, and children.

I am an advocate of the traditional family structure as what I consider the strongest form in which children may be raised.  I thought this was a simple position to hold but being a man that is in this constant state of flux regarding the implications of his words, I immediately took issue with the word "traditional".  It is problematic because it too has become filled with such nuance and connotation as to be altogether useless in shorthand discussion.  Traditional is out.  Family structure?  I knew both my mother and father growing up.  I lived in Kenner City.  My father lived in Chicago.  I had a stepfather named James and a stepmother named Geneva.  There was nothing particularly "traditional" about my household(s).  I later learned that the proper term was "blended".

My current views on family were largely altered by beliefs that I developed later in life.  I was determined that these should form into the future foundation for any child of mine that they should be reared in a household where both their mother and father were fully present.  Here is where it becomes further complicated.  I have a child of 8 years in age and *gasp* I am not with her mother.  It was quite the road of travail as we journeyed with one another from the opening heights of our togetherness, to the deepest emotional slump that side of the recession, and back here to the equilibrium that has developed through the understanding that we two people are integral in the fashioning of a conscious and committed young African daughter.

Many of my immediate thoughts about the campaign were rearranged by this aforementioned dialogue which developed between myself, Tichaona, and Khadijah Ali-Coleman.  I consider myself one of those "progressive" black men.  <insert chuckle here> I am careful with assigning this quality to myself as I have also become keenly aware of the existence of Black Male Privilege and how it is inclined to color all manner of debate where it concerns an issue that has any direct effect on both men and women where blame can be code shifted from one to the other.  I strive to suppress any notions that my opinion is correct about anyone save myself.

With all of those disclaimers duly noted, I submit this for your consideration.  I agree with the concept of "No Wedding, No Womb" on the basis of the principle that it advocates.  I think that growing up in the context of a committed familial relationship holds the potential to create a healthier space for children to expand their awareness in this world.  This is as diplomatic as I can offer in the summation of a single sentence.  I don’t want to limit the scope of family by defining it specifically as "marriage" since the commingling of culture in America has given us vastly different forms of commitment to which we might adhere.  First grievance: Marriage is a problematic term given the climate of current political debate.

This issue is further complicated by the complex interweaving of systems of belief in America.  It is difficult to attack any issue of political or social importance without smashing squarely into a wall of belief that either ourselves or someone else is not willing to cross.  Therefore when the conversation amongst the twitterati and blogosphere is dissected upon the forensic table in the aftermath, you have a breakdown of the have-husbands and the have-nots, the values voters and the bleeding heart liberals, religiosity and secularism.  The same factors of division that stand in our midst in every other debate where we should probably stop attempting to promote our manner of belief and step back from the fault line where we know solutions go to die.  Second grievance: A discussion that held promise of sparking some interesting conversations at its outset has been largely hi-jacked by the moralistic minority.

The inclusion of the womb in the discussion makes this particular matter a hands off topic for myself.  I think we would do well to exclude all men from that part of the conversation on the basis that the womb is filled with linguistic, social, moral, and philosophical quandary that I don’t think we as men have truly equipped ourselves to understand outside of our privilege to control the flow and boundaries of discussion.  Therefore we have no business debating what a woman should do with their womb whether we are considering this subject or that other political lightning rod.  If this is a discussion amongst sisters regarding how they intend to resolve their problem at its root, let them discuss the womb implications first and then come retrieve us when they are ready to speak about the larger solutions for achieving parity in marriage if we discover that it is indeed one of our intended goals.  Third grievance: Close the door on sister self talk in order that no one may be accused of boastfulness, arrogance, or elitism and everyone can feel equally understood in explaining their opinion.

The founder of the movement desired to create a quick dispensation of her position by choosing a simplified term, but at this stage, we need more discussion and not less around these issues.  NWNW is too small a term to fully engage all of the issues that are to be faced by women and children in our communities.  It is moralistic shorthand that attempts to snip away at further discussion regarding the breakdown of educational spaces, the lack of supportive systems for single parenthood, and the ideal that a dysfunctional nuclear family can be far more destructive than a sustainable singular one.


NaPoWriMo 12:30 ~ The Nurture of Flutter (for Jah’kaya)

by The AOMuse

Editor’s Note: Jah’kaya asked that I write her a poem about butterflies.  She had very specific requirements.  She wanted it to be short with no big words.  I can abide by the first request.  Since she knows me all too well, nothing is promised towards the second half of that statement.  Word to Steve Biko.  I write what I like.

you are
the
butterfly
in my eye
your chrysalis
forming
warms me
nourishing
my slumber
names me
beautiful
upon
becoming
you my
utter eye
butterfly.

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A Commercial That I Love

by The AOMuse

As the father to a budding cheerleader, I can feel this brother’s pain.  The intense yearning to provide positive motivation and reinforcement to the young lady juxtaposed against the motivation to look over one’s shoulder to see who is watching.  The final decision that you do not care so long as the young woman grows to embody a positive self image.  Cheer Dads Unite!  Bang Bang Choo Choo Train, Come Cardinals Do Your Thang!  Such pride and overwhelming joy to see them enjoying themselves.  There is no feeling that can stand as the equivalent.

jahkayaisagemstar!

the aopapabear


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