Introducing Big Black Daddy

By Derrick Barnes

When I told a friend of mine about the title of my new MyBrownBaby column, she said it gave her images of a huge scowling, southern gentleman like Jack Johnson dark as dusk, hands as big as a catcher's mitt, over-developed muscles from working 20-hour shifts at the plant, and maybe a gut that would put a blue-ribbon-winning hog to shame. And at his hip, or wound up tight in his right hand, is a brown leather belt as thick as that block of pork your granny used to throw into that batch of collard greens, and as long as the Savannah River.  He's a butt-whooping, hard working, enforcer with callused, ashy (but respectably ashy) knuckles.

The truth is, I'm not that big. I'm 6'0 even and weigh approximately 215 pounds. I'm more chocolate than black. The daddy part? I can claim that 300 percent. It's thee most important job that a man can have. Although I may have that southern gentleman part down too, I never scowl, and I'm the furthest thing from mean. Really.

It's all tongue and cheek. I was really going for an ideal. An image. Something that said discipline, order, structure, purpose and consistency. When you're the father of three Black boys, those five elements have to be in play daily. There's a lot I'd like to pass on to these young brothers before they leave the nest and go off into the word as difference makers. That's right  difference makers. That's a term they hear around this house every day. Far after they have moved out, they'll have tons of quotes and mantras burned into their little psyches.

But it's the image that children have of their fathers that came to mind when concocting the name of this column as well. You see, to them, daddy is the strongest man to ever live; even stronger than spinach-packin' Popeye, Superman, and Apollo Creed rolled into one. That's right. I can whoop any other kid's daddy with ease. In their eyes, daddy never backs down from anything, has unlimited answers, and if daddy's lucky, he's the coolest guy they'll ever know.

But my little guys are young: E, aka Pretty Boy McCoy, is ten. Solo, aka The Heartbreaker, is six. And Sy, aka Nestle Snipes, is three. I'm certain that how cool I am may fluctuate throughout the years. But really, being a cool guy in their eyes is the least of my concerns. I stay focused solely on developing their young minds, giving them supplemental education, challenging them and placing them in situations that will be beneficial as they mature, being a silent yet concerned ear, a strong should to cry or lean on either way. I'm a fair disciplinarian, but to my wife's dismay, spend more time having discussion with them rather than spanking. I guess it's the artist in me that wants to know just what in the hell the one was thinking when he threw that sock up into the chandelier or why the other one thought it was cool to put his little brother in the Boston crab until he almost tapped out. Believe me, BBD (Big Black Daddy) is capable of whooping that ass, but that's just not my style.

When my boys think of me, instead of that Jack Johnson-esque figure that I laid out earlier, I would hope that they see me as someone who's fair and who's strong, but not solely in a physical sense, but mentally and emotionally as well. I should hope that they see someone that cares about their wellbeing, someone that is the epitome of safety, honesty, integrity. Not perfect, but if they had to choose someone to model their lives after, the ol' man wouldn't be such a bad choice.

So here's how it's gonna go down: being the father of the Mighty-Mighty-Mighty Barnes Brothers provides me with limitless material. I won't try to embarrass them too much like that episode of The Bernie Mack Show when Bernie just lambasted Jordan. Won't do my little guys like that. Not on purpose anyway. I'll share the latest, most hilarious and sometimes challenging experiences I might have with these guys. Hopefully there will be a gem here and there that will help you to triumph in what can be the tumultuous, but extremely rewarding job of raising Black boys in America. I don't profess to be an expert on fatherhood but what I can say is every decision that I make, every reaction that I have to their inevitable growing pains feels sonatural. I never consult How To Be A Father manuals, and I grew up in a single parent, fatherless, household.  But I love E, Solo, and Sy to an immeasurable degree. Everything I do, I do with them in mind.  Their respect and trust of me means the world. So I hope this column does them justice, and, in some way shape or form, I hope Big Black Daddy gives you something you can use, too.

Now, who moved my belt?

{The BBD joint of the month: Pop's Rap Part 2:Fatherhood by Common, from the album, One Day It'll All Make Sense}

Derrick D’wayne Barnes is the author of eight children and young adult books, including the saucy MyBrownBaby favorite, the Ruby & The Booker Boys series. He’s given his insights about fatherhood on GreatDad.com, and is an incredible role model for brown babies everywhere. He lives in Kansas City, MO, with his wife and their three sons. Read more about him on DerrickBarnes.com.