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Beyond Fathers as Gods
By Richard Leader
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Millions tuned in to the second season-finale of ABC’s Lost,
hoping to see Michael (Harold Perrineau Jr.) meet a horrific end.
The African American character had betrayed the rest of his island-bound
castaways, murdering two of them outright, all to rescue his biological
son, Walt (Malcolm David Kelley), a boy he hardly knew before an
airplane crash had stranded them together. Super-Dads, men who will
go to any length to protect their children, are nothing new when
it comes to society’s collective fantasies: saving a loved
one, or, just as often, getting revenge on their behalf, entitles
“good men” to act out in the most horrific ways—all
for our entertainment. It is the perfect setup for a variety of
violent actions, typically climaxing in an energetic fit of justifiable
homicide. As a black man, Michael’s actions were seen as less
justifiable than most. In fact, his character constitutes the marquee
figure of a new genre: the father who goes too far in the name of
fatherhood.
Such characters are not limited to television dramas, but so-called
“reality” shows as well. The 12th season of Survivor,
“Exile Island,” featured Shane, a manic marketing executive
who not only had his son’s name, Boston, tattooed onto his
chest, but urged his fellow teammates to swear fealty oaths on his
son. Sylvester Stallone’s boxing saga, The Contender,
saw its most controversial moment when one fighter, Anthony Bonsante,
betrayed his team by surreptitiously picking a match-up that everyone
viewed as unfair. He defended his choice of a weak opponent by positioning
himself as a father protecting the interests of his children, the
beneficiaries of his boxing career. Like Shane, Bonsante was hardly
the only father on the show, and none found his arguments especially
compelling. Indeed, Stallone’s mandate to NBC was to portray
fighters as good family men, in the sport for the sake of others,
with Ahmed Kaddour standing as the lone villain, boxing to support
a Hollywood lifestyle.
These new images of fatherhood, art and life imitating each other
in equal measure, have no monolithic meaning, save patriarchy. As
much as they reflect general male anxiety about having to live up
to a more taxing model of fatherhood, requiring both sensitivity
and active involvement, these Super-Dads are remembered for their
failures in another sphere: the competitive arena of masculine honor.
Indeed, speaking ill of these men as fathers is verboten
(any attempt to attack them on those grounds is itself a breach
of the male honor-code), but they are to blame for the various infirmities
that put them in the position of having to balance, and failing,
their twin duties to both their offspring and the patriarchal cult
of brotherhood. The emerging archetype of the failed Super-Dad serves
both as a warning, urging the men that society deems undesirable
to avoid the balancing act altogether, and to normalize the occasional
failures of those men, especially white men, who can now further
establish their places within the masculine sphere of honor by using
their children as lavish props.
The ultimate irony of this development is that pro-feminism itself
has become utterly obsessed with fatherhood: while it has long been
agreed upon that the protection of paternity was the catalyst for
the construction of a patriarchal world, it has now become the preferred
site for pro-feminist resistance. The most popular and influential
group today is not the stodgy (and often dodgy) National Organization
of Men Against Sexism (NOMAS), but Dads and Daughters, a group so
exciting and meteoric that even pro-feminist luminaries without
children are glomming onto it as “advisors,” hoping
to keep their own careers on parallel trajectories. With a slick
website that seems primarily dedicated to promoting Joe Kelly’s
book of the same name, not to mention cultivating $3,000 speaking
engagements for him, Dads and Daughters has no plans to create local
chapters for their ethereal non-profit organization. Nevertheless,
they have become so enviable that even feminist women are conducting
their own activism under their banner, with actor Geena Davis running
her See Jane media-awareness campaign as part of the Dads and Daughters
brand name. Conversely, these men freely take advantage of infrastructure
built by feminists, like New Moon publishing, in order to sell back-issues
of their newsletter: information on how to become a better father
always comes with a price tag.
Dads and Daughters is not a pro-feminist group: it is a group for
nice guys. Acknowledging that fact does not diminish the positive
contributions they have made, yet it is a fact that fewer people
than ever see as relevant, even feminist women, who have enabled
Dads and Daughters to reach phenomenon status. While there is a
category of feminist literature today devoted to lampooning so-called
“nice guys,” rants that depict men who self identify
as such as boors who feel entitled to sex, the ascension of fatherhood
as the ultimate act of pro-feminism stems from the desire of many
women to find the genuine article. After all, the cuddly image of
an older gentleman who cares deeply for his offspring (and likely
his spouse, the institution of marriage being equally idealized)
runs counter to the image projected by other self avowed pro-feminists,
young anarchists obsessed with pornography despite their claims
supporting gender equality.
Ms. Musings, a blog once operated by Ms. Magazine, had
a small section of links devoted to “men we love,” with
two of the three links being to a “Rebel Dad” and a
“Daddy Zine.” Similarly, the Beastie Boys were able
to capitalize on feminist angst, women who have long enjoyed the
music despite their objections to the group’s sexism and homophobia,
as they reinvented themselves as family men: they made their millions
off of oppression and now, after a simple apology, they have been
given free license by feminists to invest those millions in protecting
their own genetic legacy. While “fatherhood as pro-feminism”
has many flaws, all obvious in nature, perhaps one of the most ironic
ones is that it makes patriarchs, literally, the best pro-feminists.
It is always the men with the largest amounts of male-privilege
who are entrusted to tell other men not to be sexist. The professional
pro-feminists, the ones who attain the lion’s share of both
mainstream and feminist attention, as a demographic, are growing
older with each passing year and actively discriminate against younger
males participating as anything but star-struck pupils. Breeding
has become the best way to circumvent that barrier.
Being a “good father” can itself be an antifeminist
act. While Dads and Daughters talks a good talk on racism and class
issues, despite their own lilywhite appearance, it seems unlikely
that most of their members would be willing to put the livelihood
of someone else’s daughter on equal footing with their own.
Childrearing today is seen as a competitive, zero-sum enterprise,
where a man should desire to give his own children every advantage
over those of his rivals. While sons have been the traditional vehicle
for passing down both racial and class based privileges, daughters
serve increasingly well in that capacity, no small thanks to good
fathers. Feminism requires the violation this competitive ethic.
Yet the masculine code of honor asks that men not embarrass themselves
or other fathers—by questioning their capacity to “provide”—by
pointing out the unfair nature of the competitive system.
With all the attention paid to fatherhood it is impossible to question
how it is that men became fathers in the first place. Not only are
the sins of the past located ever more firmly in the past, as in
the case of the Beastie Boys in their transition to Beastie Dads,
it increasingly rewards those males who operated, both socially
and sexually, from frameworks of privilege. In this climate it becomes
unnecessary to ask whether or not the act of impregnating women
is a pro-feminist act, a question that should be a fundamental one,
and yet it is elided by presuming fatherhood as inevitable. While
many pro-feminist writers are correctly attempting to de-gender
parenthood in order to oppose Far-Right groups that are seeking
to scientifically inscribe the “masculine-role” as vital
for healthy children, the debate has already passed by an important
point of contention. This is for the benefit of all men as men,
no matter their feelings are on parenthood versus fatherhood, as
they are all free to take advantage of societal-wide encouragement
of women to engage in “high risk” sexual activities.
Progressive-fatherhood also pits women against their own interests,
especially lesbian women. When two gay men, Michael Meehan and Thomas
Dysarz, became the fathers of quadruplets in 2002, feminists were
expected to cheer them on because their ability to enter institutional
fatherhood, as men previously considered undesirable for the role,
was supposedly cause for celebration for both lesbians and feminists.
Yet the actions they took to become fathers were hardly pro-feminist
choices, but acts of wanton patriarchal privilege: the woman they
hired as a surrogate (and the biological mother of their children)
was clearly their subordinate, over a decade younger and just beginning
her education while already supporting three children of her own
as a single mother—a stark contrast to the wealth and power
enjoyed by an attorney and an owner of a successful salon chain.
Her health was endangered further as the two Catholic men were initially
loathe to terminate a fifth fetus, the weight of their
decision being ever so valued by the media.
While the first group of children was sired by Meehan, in order
to be fair and allow both men to pass on their genes to the next
generation, the woman was conscripted to bear yet another child,
this time with sperm from Dysarz. Pundits in pseudo pro-feminism
might go on and on with Hallmark style sentiments about how “anyone
can be a father but it takes a someone special / a real man to be
a dad,” but the above scenario demonstrates that no male raised
in our society can truly transcend the messages we receive about
biological parenthood: we all believe ourselves to be the fittest
of the survivors. For all of the talk about new or alternative families
entertained in progressive circles, all too often these efforts
come out looking exactly like the families that Dr. James Dobson
would like to legislate, only with different players cast for the
parts.
All of this was supposed to be vaunted by feminists. Lesbian women
might have an easier time becoming mothers, given the availability
of sperm, but this does not entitle gay men—nor heterosexual
ones for that matter—access to women’s bodies, especially
as it is straight women, seen as the prototypical “bottom”
in patriarchy’s sadomasochism game, who are typically recruited
as broodmares for men of all sexualities. Though there is something
to be said for women who choose to raise children outside of male
influence, as much as such a thing is even possible, a good number
of men are all too willing to let women take on that hefty responsibility,
completely satisfied with their role of biological parenthood. While
many sperm donors might talk of lofty and high minded reasons behind
their decision, in reality, they are not much different from the
cast of MTV’s Jackass who attended a fertility clinic
in order to have their contributions rated against each other in
some sort of contest.
Men are also able to use their status as good fathers to reject
feminist arguments against their misogynist activities. This is
not limited to the Hugh Hefners of the world who are able to embroil
their daughters in their empires, but is something that operates
on a more elusive level: the real power that results from men’s
control the notion of “public” and “private”
and the liminal space that is imagined between them. Family is always
a private matter except whenever it is a public one. Such mercurial
distinctions are made to benefit men and feminists always find themselves
on the wrong end of the argument, rudely interjecting the personal
into the political or the political into the personal.
Men, on the other hand, can simply decide something to be personal
in one moment and public in the next, keeping the two spheres separate
for their own convenience. As such, this topic deserves a more personal
example than most: a friend of mine, a poet in the early stages
of her career, recently had a poem accepted by the Boston Review,
a prestigious accomplishment. She had attended a reading by the
editor who had selected her work and later entered into correspondence
with him over his choice to casually use the word “whore”
in one of his own poems. The bravery of this act is not to be underestimated
as she was weighing her position as an anti-prostitution activist
with (or against) her career as a poet, something this man might
have had mortal influence over.
He was not swayed by her arguments against the figurative use of
“whore” (one that imagines the most privileged of parties
somehow betraying a noble conviction, that “nobility”
itself often associated with the bonds between the intellectual
male-brotherhood), and predictably launched a counter-attack. The
editor of the literary juggernaut was himself not particularly intelligent
in his responses, preferring to use socially conservative ploys,
asking why it was that she was able to rhetorically employ
“hateful words,” such as racial epithets given for the
sake of example, somehow imagining that women like to sit around
all day calling each other “whore” and that he was losing
out on that bit of fun. But the words of hers that allowed him to
fly off the handle, paradoxically, were among the most very hopeful:
“Imagine your daughter in a world where that word couldn’t
be used at her, because it didn’t exist.”
(Also I think it’s very problematic that you think women
can perhaps use the word “whore” while men cannot
— do you think there are no “prostituted males”?)
In the end I don’t think the poem uses the word whore
irresponsibly but I will probably think twice before using it
in a poem again. However here’s something I am absolutely
sure of: you cannot, in making your point, mobilize my 7-month-old
daughter as a rhetorical point of reference. To my mind, that
is deeply irresponisble [sic], and in spirit, it is much much
closer to the real problem. I think it might be worthwhile for
you to think about that.
A good father can invoke the privacy argument to defend his daughter
from all of the big-bad feminists out there who seek to do her harm;
or more accurately, he can proffer his daughter as a shield to defend
himself from feminists pointing out his privileged position in the
world. His family is private when he desires it to be private and
public whenever a rhetorical emergency of his own arises, as when
he would later conjure the image of his wife: “Over lunch
I mentioned to my wife and a female friend of ours your critique
of my use of the word ‘whore’ in that poem and they
assured me that my response was, to their female minds, wholly appropriate
and moreover, that I should have ignored you altogether.”
My friend, after deeply apologizing for mentioning his daughter,
sought her own outside counsel, forwarding the debate to both me
and a feminist associate, and, in turn, passed on some of our comments
to the editor. Again, he was appalled, asking her never to contact
him again. He was able to conceptualize their emails as private
even when he shared them with others because he was entitled, with
governmental sanction, to locate “his women” in the
private sphere of family; because he controlled the definition of
family and the exact situations that rendered it public or private,
he was able to view the fledgling poet he was arguing with as the
one violating professional standards of decorum: they were, after
all, standards he had near absolute power over.
Fatherhood is a particularly dangerous site for pro-feminist resistance.
This is because it is precisely the least dangerous sort of progressive
male activism to be involved in. It is no coincidence that the most
popular forms of corporate pro-feminism—including both prison
rehabilitation for batterers and academic “after school”
type programs, such as Men Can Stop Rape—all involve subordinate
male populations. The hierarchy endemic to patriarchal fatherhood
is not altogether absent in pro-feminist parenthood: getting the
next generation to do the right thing is much easier, and personally
safer, than locking horns with your own.
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