Six years and two children later: how to become a feminist dad
The shift from one child to two has been drastic. One is a life choice, and two is a lifestyle. In this new iteration of my parenting, I am not bathing in the same river. For my second child, I had three times more paid parental leave than I did with my first. This has proven to be a significant factor in my experience as the care demands and realities grew exponentially.
I have postponed putting the ideas you will read below into paper for a while. On the practical side, I am usually wiped out at 9 pm after the daily rituals of paid work, unpaid care work, demanding household activities, and the aches and pains that come with age. Sometimes, all at once. On the philosophical side, I asked myself repeatedly for the past year about the relevance of this. Who cares when the world is falling apart to talk about these issues? Then I remember that writing is one of the tools of resistance to cynicism, to cultures that value what we do, not who we are.
Writing is a way to leave footprints that I can come back to and remember this version of myself. Writing as a way to document this journey so my children one day might come to it and find a new piece of who their dad was. Writing to feel less alone and to make company as others walk their paths. As the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish said in his poem think of others, “As you think of others far away, think of yourself (say: if I only were a candle in the dark)”.
If you want to learn more about this journey, I have written different pieces, reflecting on this experience of being a parent, specifically a dad. You can check these out depending on where you are on your journey (After 20 weeks. Two years later. Four years later.)
Do the internal work.
Reflexivity is not a muscle we men exercise as much. Unfortunately, we are taught early on to act, not to pause. We are taught to take control and to exercise it. Parenting becomes another layer in the version of manhood you portray. The things that you have unresolved with your parents will come back to you in high resolution and decibels. A friend said to me “there is nothing more triggering than parenting” and they are 100% correct.
If you want to bring the best version of yourself to the children and the partner you have chosen, you have to work on yourself seriously and purposefully. This work is less visible and less tangible, it does not bear muscles that you can show off or broadcast on social media. It is meant to challenge you, to make you guess: is this a breakdown or a breakthrough?
Sometimes, it is both. In my case, the physical pain of caring for a big baby has affected my health, as well as sleeping fewer hours than my body and my mind need. For many years, I have seen my migraines as the obstacle between me and life. Now, after many long days and nights in pain, I see them as one of my dearest friends. They come to remind me that I need to say aloud “I need a break”, “I cannot do this” and to take care of myself. This is extremely hard for me. As I look deep into the well of my fears and dreams, I have learned that only by caring for myself first, with love and grace, can I do the same for others.
Many of us choose to do this deep internal work on our own. I get it. I have done it by myself and with others, like the Parenting Journey program I did before my first kid was born. This time, as a parent of two, I was much more aware of my flaws and imperfections as a person and as a parent. With a child, you learn that quickly, sometimes in gentle ways and other times, in very painful ways. So, when I was preparing for the second time around, I had a better idea of what I needed.
I see being a dad as a garden I grow with my children. Sometimes, you spend time frolicking among beautiful flowers and bees, but most of the time you have dirt in your hands, learning about what is a weed and what is a flower, planting bulbs ahead of time with the hope that someday, maybe, if things go well, they will bloom. You come back to that garden every day and love it, knowing that even when it is dark and cold the promise of a new season remains.
As you cultivate a garden for you and the ones you love, here are some resources that I found incredibly helpful in this process. Being realistic about time scarcity and mental space, I did a combination of reading and listening to audiobooks that proved to be right for me.
Real self-care by Pooja Lakshmin. The audience for this book is women and let me tell you, we men are missing out.
Why fathers cry at night by Kwame Alexander. This book includes storytelling, recipes, and poetry. I found myself folding clothes and lost in thought by the cadence of his voice and the honesty that we need as men to talk about our fathers, our feelings, our mistakes, and when we get it right. Because we do it too.
One day I will show you the desert by Renato Cisneros. This book is in Spanish, and it is a diary of a father who is waiting for their kid to be born. Brutally honest, it reveals the inner dialogue that many of us explore as we try to make tangible the intangible: to bear a child and give it birth.
There are so many books that talk about how to become a father, a new father, and how to get ready for it. I found them very difficult to read. They focus mostly on the things to get done, the checklists, and the process in bro-ey ways. Some of the books infantilize men as clueless or try to explain child-rearing using sports and car metaphors. They don’t dare to go into the territory of feelings and emotions.
As an alternative, I would recommend these two books as gifts of life. If you are a dad or someone in your life is on that path, I encourage you to get them:
The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love by bell hooks. I read this book in 2018 during my first parental leave. It should be mandatory for men to read.
Essential Labor: Mothering as Social Change by Angela Garbes. My partner got this for herself during an event with the author. I devoured it and felt seen by her prolific and honest writing. During this second time as a parent, I tried to do it all, and it broke me physically. I endured migraines for weeks and this book was a reminder that care work breaks you and builds you up.
This year, I also started therapy. I am part of the 17% of men in the US who receive therapy or counseling. I gave this to myself as a birthday gift. I hesitated for a long time before doing it as I did not have the energy or time to explain my life to another person. However, I have found it incredibly helpful in developing healthier and more sustainable ways to deal with the pressures and challenges of parenting two kids. It might not be your cup of tea, yet it’s worth a try.
Do the quiet work
When I go to the supermarket with the little one, others always help me. People look at me as if I alone was the impersonation of a deity of choice. Doors get opened, bags get carried and a waterfall of smiles and compliments come my way. It feels great, doesn't it? When I walked with my baby around the neighborhood, people stopped and talked to me. Most of them are women. They look at the baby, at me, as if we were precious pieces in a museum.
My partner was telling me the other day about how she was at the same supermarket, wearing the baby and after putting the groceries on the belt, a male manager told her the cashier was closed and walked away. No one offered to help her move or gave her a hand.
Welcome to the world of parental privilege, brought to you by the pedestal effect. This is defined as the disproportionate gratitude and attention men get for doing the same things that women do. It happens at the workplace, at home, and in the day-to-day of our lives. This is justified mainly as the bar for men and expectations in realms as the care work is low, too low.
Do you get compliments and congratulations when you do basic things like cooking, cleaning, taking parental leave, bringing the kids to school, to the doctor, or taking a day off to care for them? I do and I bet you do too.
Here are two strategies to deal with this:
Deflect: Increase the care work or household work you do, and when people see it and talk about it -because they will- change the focus. You are not doing anyone a favor, just doing your part. I get it, we are used to having recognition for the work we do, especially as men. Patriarchy works that way. The challenge resides in doing the work of defying outdated, harmful gender norms and roles without having to get a Nobel prize and an Olympic medal for doing it. No brownie points, no hip-hip-hoorays. Just do you, quietly.
The data suggests that in no country in this beautiful and chaotic world are men doing as much care as women. You might be a stellar caregiver but remember that the bar is too low for us as men, so turn the spotlight to others, like your partner and those who provide care for our children. Most childcare providers don’t get fair compensation for the critical work they do even though child care is extremely expensive. Let’s talk about that!
Make visible: In your attempts to become a feminist parent, you cannot deflect the responsibility to make visible your experience without making it about you. The best example of this is the workplace. Ask about the policies in place for parents and care provision. What is the parental leave policy? Who gets to apply? Does your workplace have a termination/miscarriage policy? Why not? Can we add termination/miscarriage to the bereavement policy in place? No? Why not? Does your workplace accommodate people breastfeeding? If you want to learn more about this, check out Parently and MenCare for concrete ways to advance gender equality. If you manage people or streams of work, if you sit on any positional power, use it.
If you take time off for parental leave, talk about it. If you take time off to care for others, talk about it. If you have experienced miscarriages, talk about it. As men, we often choose to deal with the losses on our own even though these are common experiences. Talking about the pain and emotions of becoming a parent is so needed. Even more, when miscarriages happen more than once.
Normalize these conversations. That notion that you can have it all is a cop-out. It is harmful, and unrealistic and gives parents -mostly women- the added weight of needing to fulfill all expectations. It is the culture that is wrong, the norms, the laws, and this extractive capitalistic society that we live in. Make it visible because like millions of cisgender, heterosexual men like me, we benefit every single day from these things going unnoticed.
Share the journey
Parenting for me has been an iterative conversation with my children and my parents. By becoming a parent, I have been able to understand what it means to be a son, and this realization has made me immensely grateful for the love of my parents, and at times livid about their choices and their decisions. In rearing children, you encounter many occasions to engage with other parents and families who are also navigating the challenges and experiencing the beauty of parenting. Be vulnerable, share your journey, and give grace to others. As the years have gone by, I have realized that I feel responsible for the well-being of the kids on the soccer team, the classmates at school, and the kids sharing space with us in the playground.
Parenting in a feminist way means bringing your commitment to building a caring world for yourself, your children, and other children, wherever you go. You carry your garden and the seeds they bear with you. Make sure you can share them with others and let others share theirs too.