What My Son Taught Me About Fatherhood

A reflection by Levallois Hamilton, Senior Events Manager at The Hip Hop Caucus

A while back, I asked my oldest son what his favorite memory was. I figured he’d mention Monster Jam because he loves monster trucks. Maybe one of the water parks we’ve been to, the trampoline in the backyard, or perhaps getting some of his favorite pair of shoes, because that boy is a sneaker head. Without hesitation he said, “throwing the football outside with you,” and the family. I’m not going to lie, that was not the answer I was expecting. It actually surprised me.

What hit me wasn’t just that he enjoyed playing catch. It was the fact that his favorite memory had nothing to do with what I bought him. His favorite memory wasn’t the football itself, even though he practically begged me for it. It was his Father spending quality time with him. Reflecting on his answer I thought, any dad can buy a football, but buying a football then making the time to go outside and throw the ball around are two different things. That reality sunk deep. A Father’s presence matters but intentional engagement matters even more.

As fathers we know how easy it is to be present and still be absent. We can live in the house and never truly engage. We can be great providers and never fully participate in the lives of those around us. We can be physically there and emotionally somewhere else. Intentional engagement says, “I’m with you and I see you.” The more I thought about this, the more I realized how this moment shapes my approach to community work. In my humble observation, communities are not transformed by people who merely care but rather by people who care enough to act.

This is why I believe fathers have always played such a critical role in shaping culture and movements. I think about Dr. King, Medgar Evers, Malcolm X and Fred Hampton who were all fathers. They weren’t content with just being comfortably present and merely observing the world around them but instead chose to engage. I think of the fathers of hip hop, people like DJ Kool Herc, Afrika Bambaataa, Grandmaster Flash, and so many others. They also did not just complain about what was happening around them. They engaged and took turntables, microphones, and block parties and turned them into real movements that remain alive today. They gave voice to communities that felt unseen and unheard.

See, Fathers, we think in generations. We are conscious of those coming behind us. We understand that what we ignore, what we tolerate, and what we build eventually will be inherited by those we love. This is why when I think back on my conversation with my oldest son, I realize my son wasn’t really talking about football. He was talking about intentional engagement. He was reflecting on a father caring enough not only to buy the football, but to make the time to go outside and play catch. Fatherhood is constantly buffeting and reminding me that showing up is only half the battle. Fathers have to act. We have to lean in. Whether it’s with our families , our communities, or the world around us. I’m learning that our care is only as good as our willingness to do something with it.

So on this Father’s Day I want to honor the fathers who don’t always get it right but choose to make it right. I want to honor the fathers whose names we’ll never know. Fathers in the faith. Grandfathers, coaches, mentors and big homies. Men who saw children who weren’t biologically theirs and yet chose them as their own. This Fathers Day, I hope we continue to become the men who don’t just buy footballs, but are willing to step outside and play catch. What will future generations’ say of their favorite memory of you?

— Levallois Hamilton