Navigating Father Wounds As A Black Man In America
The Epidemic of Black Fatherlessness
In college, my friends and I would meet up on holidays or in the summer to grill, only to realize that most of us didn’t even know how to work the barbecue. Out of all the successful brothers in that room, barely any of us had fathers around to teach us those simple things that help a boy grow into a man.
For a lot of Black men who came up in the ’80s and ’90s, not having a dad was the norm. “The War on Drugs” hit our neighborhoods hard, locking up fathers and ripping families apart. By 1990, almost 58% of Black kids grew up without a father, leaving a whole generation trying to figure out manhood on their own.
Black Fatherhood Under Attack: The Larger Battle
We inherited a fight bigger than us.
Black fatherhood in America has been under attack for centuries. Slavery didn’t just work us to death; it tore apart family bonds to keep us in chains. Fathers, sons, brothers—separated, sold off, treated like property. Black men were forced to father children, sometimes with bags over their heads, sometimes with their own kin. And the strongest among us were sent to “buck breaking” camps, where they were beaten and violated in front of everyone on the plantation to crush any spirit they had left. This trauma didn’t end with emancipation; it sank deep into our bones.
These shadows? They’re stitched into our blood—a legacy of transgenerational trauma.
How To Break Through the Pain
Life dealt us a rough hand. We have every right to feel shorted, but here’s the truth I had to face: holding onto pain keeps us locked up. I had to stop seeing myself as a victim and start seeing myself as a survivor. Instead of asking, Why did this happen to me? I had to ask, What can I do with it?
To let go of that anger, I had to let it breathe. It’s real, and it’s valid, but holding onto it only poisons us. Whether it’s hitting the gym or finding a space to speak your truth, letting it out is necessary. And then there’s forgiveness—not so much for my father, but for myself. Forgiving myself for carrying guilt and shame that never belonged to me.
Conclusion
We’re not bound by the stories we inherited. We can change them, rebuild from the inside out. We can choose to move from trauma to triumph, from victimhood to victory.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: What are some affirmations I can use to help rebuild my foundation?
A: You can use affirmations like:
- I’m breaking cycles and flipping my own story.
- I’m building legacies that’ll last long after I’m gone.
- I’m writing a new story—a story of power, resilience, and love.
- I have the right to define my own path.
- I’m worthy of love, and I’m free to show love without holding back.
- I am enough.
- I forgive, and am forgiving those who hurt me.
- I am no one’s mistake, I was made on and for a purpose that I will fulfill.
Q: How can I let go of my anger and forgive myself?
A: You can start by acknowledging the anger and giving yourself permission to feel it. Then, find healthy ways to express and release it, such as through exercise, talking to a trusted friend or therapist, or writing. Forgiveness is a process, and it may take time, but it’s essential for moving forward.
Q: What resources are available to help me on my journey?
A: There are many resources available, including books, online courses, and support groups. You can also reach out to a therapist or coach who specializes in working with Black men and boys.
