On Fatherhood: Turning the Tide

Lately, I’ve been delving into fatherhood as an intellectual concept. Maybe it’s because my daughter just had her first birthday, maybe it’s because of the incident I described in my last post, or maybe it’s because it’s summer, and I’m used to thinking about this particular time of year, after the school year is over, as a time of reflection.

As we’ve passed the year mark, I’ve realized that I have no intention, at least for another year, to re-enter the traditional workforce. Though I still struggle with anxiety and insomnia at times, I am happier, more focused and more relaxed than I have been in a long time. Being at home with my daughter is fun and incredibly challenging, and I have been able to find the spaces in the schedule that allow me some necessary alone time. I plan to continue writing, for which I hope to occasionally get paid, but other than that, I’m not looking for a job. Doing what I’m doing feels right for me and my family.

With that realization comes a renewed focus on the apparent untraditional nature of what I do. I am a stay-at-home dad. My wife is the breadwinner for our household, making each of us part of growing minorities, according to Census data and a recent Pew study.

I’ve never been considered a “manly” man and I’ve never felt like that’s an image that I need to live up to. I’m quite comfortable with my role. I’m happy being who I am and doing what I do. I don’t feel like I need to be more of a man, but I find myself bristling when I get the impression that people think I can’t do what I do because I’m a man. If a man or woman thinks I'm weak because I stay home, it doesn’t really bother me. But I do care if people think I can’t do my job well because I am a man.

I’ve written before about how I sometimes get irritated at the assumptions people make when I am in public with my daughter. Now that I am committing to this role for at least another year, I’m feeling the need to be even more vocal, and essentially political, about pushing against the stereotypes.

My best friend sent me a link to a write-up in the New York Times about Kindling Quarterly, a new magazine about fatherhood that started in January. I read the article, bought issue #2, and I read the magazine cover to cover (more on this, and the fallacy of hipster parenting, in another post). I’ve since been sucked into the rabbit hole of online articles about modern fatherhood, feminism and what it means for me to be inhabit the role that I do.

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve read so many articles about what it means to be a “dad” that my head is swimming. I’ve also been fascinated by how gendered they are. Though nearly all of the articles have been very thoughtful, they embody their authors’ assumptions about masculinity and fatherhood, whether they’re feminists from Brooklyn or guys who don’t know how to fold laundry writing for the Esquire.

Here’s my takeaway -- the conversation is changing, and for the better. There are more men (and women) talking about how more men are becoming more involved parents and that sharing parenting roles isn’t some kind of emasculation for men. The notion of dad as an occasional befuddled caregiver filling in for mom is being challenged at the same time that women like Sheryl Sandberg are creating the space for successful, assertive professional moms who have caring partners who share parenting duties.

The most visible evidence that the conversation is changing, of course, comes from commercials. Stewing about insensitive, sexist comments I read at the bottom of many an article about fatherhood and feeling the frustration of a hard day with my daughter, I was watching TV during her nap. I was amazed by the following commercial:

http://www.adweek.com/adfreak/tide-wows-commercial-treats-dad-normal-human-147970

It’s sad that this isn’t the norm, but it really does mean the conversation is changing; this is a competent dad, who clearly spends a lot of quality time with his daughter. This is such an unassuming ad that you might miss just how important it is. And if you don’t think ads are an indicator of where we are as a nation, or that they have no power to drive conversation about social norms, watch this and read news articles about the ensuing controversy.

The conversation needs to continue. That’s why I will be taking on a new role in addition to this blog as a curator of articles about fatherhood. You’ll see more posts from me on Facebook and Twitter. I hope to amplify the current conversation and add my own voice where I see the need and the space for doing so.

So much of what I do now feels like I’m doing it for my daughter. I want her to know that what her mom does is normal and strong and amazing, and I want her to know that a man can be sensitive and caring and a feminist who’s engaged in his family. I don’t know how long I’ll be a stay-at-home dad, but I do know that me being one is important for my family.

“Are you having a fun day with Daddy?”

If I leave the house with my 10-month-old daughter during the day, and I go somewhere in public with her, someone will ask her this question. On behalf of my pre-verbal child, I mumble a platitude in response (I’m not a very outgoing, social person), and my daughter beams her billion-dollar smile and then she waves bye-bye and we continue with our day.

These people mean well, even if they don’t realize the assumptions they’re making. Even the people who seem to be judging the way I’m handling what they think are my baby-sitting-for-a-day duties mostly mean well...Because that’s what a lot of people seem to think I’m doing. They think the time I’m spending with my daughter is an aberration. Surely, she normally must spend all day with Mommy or with her nanny or in her daycare.

Even in Denver, which is a pretty progressive town, gendered roles still fuel people’s expectations of the scene they think they’re witnessing: The harried, uncomfortable dad, lugging a bucket carseat perched on his hip with a cool, ungirly diaper bag slung over his shoulder walks into a coffee shop, or a grocery store, to take care of an errand that Mommy didn’t have time for. Or, if we’re in a restaurant, it must be a special Daddy-Daughter Day. Maybe I’m giving Mommy a break for the day, because she’s must be the one who does most of the parenting work. I, like all men, just show up to help sometimes.

If you think I’m exaggerating, watch this Wells Fargo ad:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=87y6d3SwX_I

This ad seems to pass for progressive, but it’s seriously called, “Dad’s Day Out with Baby.” And it just has to include a scene where he goes to a breastfeeding mommies club and feels uncomfortable. That doesn’t even make any sense. Why would he even be there?

Do I sound bitter? I’m not, really. I am just still baffled by how much baggage we bring to social interactions. No one would ever make those assumptions about my wife. I also would like to get through a day where I don’t have to decide if I am just going to let the comment go or to say something that corrects the perception. If I say something, I sound sanctimonious and snotty and I make someone feel bad, or at the very least uncomfortable. If I don’t say anything, then I am reinforcing this perception in our culture that men can’t be primary caregivers for their children.

I don’t want to be an exception to the rule, because I don’t do what I do for a living because I’m trying to make a political point. I do what I do because it made the most sense for my family. One of us (my wife) makes enough money that one of us (me) can stay home and take care of our daughter. If I was the one that made more money, my wife would be home. If neither one of us made enough money to do this, our daughter would be in daycare. Gender and sex got nothin’ to do with it.

What’s more, the traditional roles don’t even apply to our society in as large a way as people think. According to an article in the New York Times, “In 2011, only 16 percent of American households contained a breadwinner husband and a stay-at-home wife, according to the United States Bureau of Labor Statistics.”

To throw out another statistic: In the last decade, the number of stay-at-home dads more than doubled, to 176,000...By the way, did you happen to check out the headline of the article I just linked to?

“Mr. Mom Era: Stay-at-home dads doubled over last decade.” #eyeroll

I want to be clear: I’m not writing this post because I’m upset about my lot in life. I love what I do. I am around for every milestone and I am building a bond with my daughter that will last a lifetime. That’s not to say that other moms and dads who work don’t get those opportunities; most of my friends are working parents, and their kids are awesome and they love their parents.

But the next time you see a man out and about, with a baby, alone, don’t jump to conclusions. Treat him like you would a mom with a baby. That’s all I’m asking for.

Naps, Feminism and Agnès Varda

(A word about this post: My daughter’s birth has given me the opportunity to rediscover my love of writing. Staying home with her also has allowed me to re-engage with film, another of my passions. This post is a reflection of where those passions intersect.)

I’ve written before about how my daughter doesn’t like to take naps, or at least she doesn’t like them until she’s fallen asleep (she seems to like them a lot at that point). While she sleeps through the night in her crib, she hasn’t taken a nap in that thing since she was about four months old. And believe me, I’ve tried. Three times. Three hour-long screaming meltdowns. So, no more trying for crib naps, at least for a while.

In the morning, my daughter naps in my arms after I bounce her on a yoga ball for a few minutes. In the afternoon, she sleeps in her carseat after we return home from visiting Mommy at work. This system works fairly well, most of the time.

I cherish those morning naps. I love that she sleeps in my arms. In fact, it’s one of the best parts of my day.

You see, while she naps, I watch movies. God bless Hulu Plus and the Criterion Collection.

Since I gave up on morning naps in the crib, I have watched more than 20 movies in the Criterion Collection. From the auteurs of the French New Wave to Akira Kurosawa’s film noir series, I get to watch these movies in 30 to 45-minute increments. It works out well, because I get to watch great films, and I don’t have to turn the volume up too loud because they’re all subtitled: French, Japanese, Italian -- loud enough to hear the sound, quiet enough to let my daughter sleep peacefully.

I love it.

(Note #2: Being a stay-at-home dad has a lot of advantages. I feel so blessed and privileged to be able to be the primary caretaker for my daughter during the day, but I recognize that so many parents don’t have the means to make that choice, nor should they feel compelled to do anything related to their children’s care due to societal pressure. This was the choice that my family made, and we feel like it’s the right choice for us.)

I’ve always been a film buff, and I have dabbled in making films over the years. Having the opportunity to watch great films while my daughter sleeps in my arms is one of the current joys of my life. I’ve watched all of Eric Rohmer’s Moral Tales, and I have discovered the work of Agnès Varda, the only female director among the French New Wave filmmakers.

Agnès Varda is awesome. I have watched four of her films so far -- Cleo from 5 to 7, Le Bonheur, La Pointe-Courte, Vagabond -- and they are all worth watching. She is by far my most favorite New Wave filmmaker. I think most of the rest of the guys in that sausage fest are way too full of themselves and their genius to make consistently compelling films.

Exceptions: Band of Outsiders, Masculin Feminin, Last Year at Marienbad, Hiroshima Mon Amour. In other words, Godard and Resnais get passes for making two masterpieces each.

There are no easy answers and no easy perspectives in Varda’s films. Too often, I think that filmmakers make films with an ambiguous tone because they assume that critics will fill in the gaps where they’re too afraid to have opinions. If these directors’ movies are inscrutable, critics will assume that they have something profound to say (I’m looking at you, David Lynch!).

But this isn’t the case with Varda. My feelings about her characters are always complicated, and I think that she uses her camera to complicate my feelings toward the characters I’m supposed to revile or identify with. That’s because Varda’s feelings about her subjects are complicated.

All of Varda’s films are real reflections of society, but they also feature people who don’t quite fit perfectly into that real society. What’s interesting about her approach is that it doesn’t diminish how real those characters are. Vagabond is the most clear depiction of this unsettling dichotomy. The movie is about a fictitious itinerant girl who’s found dead in a ditch. Her life is reconstructed by the filmmaker and the people with whom the girl interacted. The “vagabond” has made a choice to reject societal norms, but her choice isn’t viewed sentimentally. Sometimes, her life seems romantic; at other points, it seems dirty and awful and pathetic. In some ways, the movie is more about the society that takes her in or rejects her or takes advantage of her or treats her with envy or indifference.

There are several tracking shots that follow our vagabond that end without her in the frame. You could argue that this is a visual representation of her existence outside the norms of society or her lack of engagement with the people who offer her connection...

So, how is this about the Parenthood Journey?

Well, I’m talking about naps and feminism, baby!

I get to watch these movies while my daughter naps in my arms, and these movies get me thinking about who my daughter will be and the women she will look to for inspiration. Varda wasn’t just a trailblazer (a cliche too often used for creative women artists); she started the French New Wave. La Pointe-Courte, her first film, which was clearly experimental in the fashion of the New Wave, premiered in 1955. For those keeping score, that’s four years before The 400 Blows (Truffaut) and Hiroshima Mon Amour (Resnais), and five years before Godard’s Breathless. Interesting fact: Resnais edited the movie!

Feminism is manifest in all of Varda’s films. Each of the films I have watched are keenly interested in the roles women inhabit in French society, and Varda presents those roles with frank, yet complex honesty.

Varda’s confidence, creative vision and her willingness to present an honest, complicated perspective inspire me. I hope that she inspires my daughter, too.

As for me, the dad of a daughter, I am struck by the compromises I have made as a parent. I never thought I would use the “cry it out” method of sleep training at night. I never thought that my daughter would take her naps in my arms or in her carseat. In fact, those two sentences don’t seem like they should even come from the same parent.

Right and wrong answers aren’t as simple as you would think when it comes to being a parent. There are so many decisions you have to make, and as much as you would like to judge parents who do it differently, you’ve got to realize that you are at the mercy of the same chaos as they are.

Varda’s films have helped me realize that it’s ok to have complicated thoughts about other humans. Everyone’s perspective is three-dimensional about other three-dimensional human beings, but it is a limited perspective. We all watch each other and we make judgments about the behavior of other humans all the time, especially as parents.

But that doesn’t mean that we understand what’s happening outside the frame. Varda helps me keep that in perspective.

And for what it’s worth, Varda has been added to my mental playlist of women artists that I plan to share with my daughter. Here’s hoping, that while she’s sleeping, my daughter has already started to absorb the playlist.