Sometimes it's the little things.
When I was 11 or 12 years old, I played Little League baseball. Basketball and Football were my sports of choice, but Ken Griffey, Jr. truly had me believing I could earn this major league money. A few days before the start of our season, the coaching staff ended an afternoon practice by handing out our brand new uniforms. No problems, I thought, about to get this #24 jersey; this "finna be a BREEZE"! Unfortunately, another teammate overheard my excitement and sneakily claimed the jersey before me.
I broke down and cried. Cried like a little kid...a biatch, by any other standards.
When that so-called teammate grabbed that jersey and no one stood up for me, the only defense available was shedding tears. My teammates and coaches stood there. No one consoled me; nobody prayed for me either, Kendrick. All of a sudden, my dad appeared. Just when I expected him to reign down with tough love and tell me to stop crying, he led with empathy. For all the hard lessons and teaching he usually offered, it was his odd placed understanding that made the difference. He didn't yell, he didn't say be a man; he found a solution and used the opportunity to explain life. Though I didn't get my number #24 that day (Deion's number had to do) my Dad being there for me was just what I needed.
As my siblings will attest to, my father Charles is...serious. Dad is a country boy, a no-nonsense kind of guy, all about taking care of business and his kids doing the same. He showed love through his provision and teaching. My father taught me bravery, accountability, and honesty. He is human, and not without flaw, but even during his shortcomings, we learned from him. Above all, he knew and understood himself and acted accordingly. Consequently, others followed suit. Watching him allowed me to see manhood, Black manhood in a particularly beautiful light. For "CP", as he is affectionately known, he is defined by who he is and how he treats people, which is what I constantly seek and fight for as a Black man in America.
My father set a precedent for me growing up; now as an adult, I strive to be a good father and strong voice for my stepson Jordan. Parenthood, at any stage, is a teaching moment, a quest to bring balance between the lessons given by your family and those learned through trial and error. In speaking to Jordan, the words of my Dad often echo through me. The same lessons importance of responsibility, hard work, and integrity apply almost exactly as when said to me. But when looking at Jordan, elements of myself appear: a bright, personable young man who just desires to enjoy life. I want him to be to be at his best, just as my dad sought from me; but as a father, my job is to expand on my parents' teachings, not just duplicate them. Wishfully, when Jordan and any future Perrys are old enough to reflect as I do now, their memories of me will offer the same hope and happiness.
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