To a Minister of Excellence

Dear Dad,

I know I was wrong. You put me in my place and I still went against you. As men of color, we are in a curious state because of the overwhelming sense that black men don’t take care of their responsibilities, namely, their children. But you raised my sister and I almost single handedly. For this, I am indebted….

Do you remember when you surprised me with my first bicycle at my fifth birthday party? Why am I even asking? You always bring up that cherished memory! I still recall the black and green Huffy Dirt Devil that you decorated with Power Rangers.

This remains just a flash in the pantheon of wonderful things you have done as a father. Ever since I became an adult, I look back on how you prepared and cooked every meal we ever had. You made Thanksgiving and Christmas magical. Everything from the scent of cinnamon and thyme wafting from the kitchen to the succulent turkey and baked ziti you offered to the whole family.

All of this would be superficial if you just considered it on face value. It was the love that you showed and instilled in us to be better people.

I express gratitude because you deserve the highest praise. The way you showed me how to tie a tie, what shoes matched with which suit, and extended yourself while never making a sacrifice. To sacrifice would mean you forfeited a greater value for one step less or none at all. This shouldn’t even be in your vocabulary. The fact you encouraged my sister and me and sustained us throughout our lives is what makes you worthy of admiration.

In the same way that black mothers and mothers in general receive the utmost in their childrens’ eyes, so should a father like you who just happens to have a higher melanin content. Chris Rock even joked about it. He said:

“Mama, mama, mama…and what does Daddy get for all his work? The big piece of chicken!”

You made the big piece of chicken for our nourishment. It wasn’t just to keep us alive, or to satisfy the requirements of being a parent. You baked love into that chicken.

When I decided to become a United States Marine, you had your reservations but ended up supporting my decision anyway. During my short stint in the Corps, you always called and mailed me items to keep up my morale.

Now, as my caregiver after being diagnosed with bipolar disorder, you’ve been nothing but exemplary. Even when you scolded me and felt I had committed something wrong, I knew it all came from a place of love. If you didn’t chastise me for my behavior it would seem as if you didn’t care. I know you do.

I will forever keep that in my mind. Like a bastion in a wasteland, you have always been the source, refuge, and light. In the way that you have embraced me despite my being an atheist and you being a Christian minister, we have been able to coexist through some trying times. Good times arose as well.

Objectivist Conferences (OCON) sponsored by devotees of the late great author and philosopher Ayn Rand remain sources of joy in my thoughts. We both attended three of them with my sister only going to one of them. These events are anathema to your beliefs but because of your love for me you did not find it robbery to be in attendance during the occasions surrounding OCON.

That’s what makes you a true dad. You didn’t just offer your sperm and run away like most cowardly “fathers.” You actually took the reins and guided us from the time we were born right up to today.

How you wove a tapestry of fatherly love is worthy of not only this page, but stage and screen. As I march forth with the vision in my head showing that there are men like you who have reared and raised their children, I will always know why you did it.

Now, I know you will say “nothing but the grace of God” but I’ll say from my perspective, it was reason and individualism which prompted you to be the best dad. It took courage and fortitude to ensure that there would be a roof over our heads, lights in the house, running water and warmth in the winters and coolness in the summers. We even had color TVs with cable.

These are just the aftermath of how dedicated you were when we were coming up in this world. The most important things you taught us, though, have to be morals, ethics, and values.

When a neighborhood kid hit me in the face, you championed the moment and marched me to the young man’s house and had a stern talking with the boy’s father. I still had the mark on my cheek. The young man apologized and we were cool from that time on until he moved. If it weren't for your integrity, we could have been vicious enemies. You saw that this situation had to be remedied and completely squashed it before anything went further.

It is a shame that the culture at large especially in the United States doesn’t prize dads like you. You should be lifted up and exalted for your work. You didn’t just say, “Oh, I’m going to raise these kids….” You did it! And you did it well.

Today, even through our differences, I still choose you as the ultimate guide in my life. For if it weren’t for you, I’d have a broken compass on how to navigate through America and the world. You have given me the tools to illustrate a life that is worth living.

It doesn’t matter if we fight because we always patch things up and you continue to be a support system in my life. The fact that you broke through all of the snares shows your excellence. I love you, dad.