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Each
generation of young black people must learn to navigate the
“negative aspects of minority status,” a treacherous terrain
laden with perils lying in wait to snatch possibilities,
opportunity and even life itself from the young and
vulnerable.
The fact
is, that if children – young males in particular – are to
complete the journey successfully and productively, then
they desperately need responsible and loving biological,
adopted or cultural fathers to help them meet the challenges
of what has become a fatherless black community.
I had the
honor of speaking with David Fleetwood, business manager and
secretary/treasurer of Laborers Local 500, who shared with
me his memories and thoughts about the meaning of black
fatherhood.
Perryman:
Thank you for taking the time to talk with me. What kind of
memories do you have of your father?
Fleetwood:
My biological father and my mother broke up when I was about
three years old but the man that raised me since I was aged
three is whom I call my father. He’s now a bishop from the
church that I grew up in and what I remember is that he
always provided for us. Now that I’m an adult I can see how
he used to walk to work and then walk back home. He wasn’t
much on having fatherly conversations until I got grown, but
he always provided.
Perryman:
Looking back, what impression did that leave on you?
Fleetwood:
The one thing I’ve learned from him is about going to work.
And also, we always did everything as a family. We’d eat
together in the evenings; we’d go to the grocery store
together. My mother would go in the store and all six of us
would sit in the backseat. We were never allowed to spend
the night at anybody’s house; they kept us close and kept us
protected. Every day my father would work all day and then
he’d come around the corner at 5 or 6:00 with his six-pack
in his hand and he’d be at home and that’s the one thing I
remember the most from him at that time is that he
provided.
We
didn’t have a real good relationship when I was younger
because I had a biological daddy. I had a Santa Claus daddy
that I went to see every Christmas and every summer
vacation, but the older I get the more I realize that my
adopted dad was my father and now that I’m grown we have a
great relationship and I make sure I take him out to eat
every Sunday, I try to take care of everything that they
need. He wasn’t just married to my mother; he was married
to all of us. He made sure that we ate; he made sure we all
got all that we needed. He was a good guy. And then he
accepted the Lord when I was coming out of high school and
now he’s a pastor and a bishop, but he wasn’t saved back
then and I think we needed for him not to be saved because
he needed to get a hold of us. God sent me just what I
needed. And I love him to death now.
Perryman:
There is a generation of boys and young men who cry, if not
outwardly, then with silent angry tears or by acting out
with negative behavior. What would you tell young men today
about fatherhood?
Fleetwood:
I would tell a young man today that if you have a father
that loves you enough to tell you the truth, to correct you,
then you’ve been blessed. Because a father that’ll tell you
the truth and don’t mind chastising you and is not trying to
be your friend, that’s probably the reason why I’m alive
today. There were certain things we just wouldn’t try to do
because we knew he was going to be there, he didn’t miss a
thing. He loved us enough to pay attention, even though he
wasn’t our real dad and we knew it, and we looked at him
like that, but it didn’t stop him from doing his job. The
whole time I lived at my mother’s house, I never thought it
was but one man in that house because we had a lot to get
into in Patterson, New Jersey, where I grew up, but we
didn’t do it. We had to be in the house at a certain time,
we had to do chores as soon as we were tall enough to reach
over the sink, we washed dishes, and it made me the person I
am today. A father can do things for young men that a mother
can’t do. And so if you’ve got one, you’d better hold on to
him, you better listen to him.
Perryman:
Whether they’re a biological dad or not, right?
Fleetwood:
That’s right. And so I thank God for mine and I revered and
I feared.
Perryman:
Revered and feared.
Fleetwood:
That’s right, and it took all of that. All I know since I
can remember, he was there. When I came home every day I
always knew where he was. And that’s what I tell my
daughter, she tells me, ‘you know you were strict on me.’ I
said to her, ‘one thing about you that 90 percent of the
kids in your high school can’t say is that you always know
where your father is.’ A father is precious and I
appreciate all the chastising, and I appreciate all the
correction, but you don’t fully understand that until you
become a father. I had a good one. And he didn’t mind us
poking our lips out and not liking what he was saying, but
he did what he was supposed to do. And that’s one of the
earthly reasons that I’m still here.
Perryman:
You are a prominent individual and a leader in our
community. How would you say that your dad influenced your
leadership and what you have become today?
Fleetwood:
As a leader, as a male leader, you’ve got to be like a
father. I’ve got to care about the union members I lead in
a way that says to them that I’ll fight for every inch I can
get for them, and it don’t have no bearing on how they feel
about me. That’s my job. My job is to get them an
advantage. Because I know if they lose this union job, they
may not be able to make it. So my job is to fight for them
as hard as I can and when they are wrong just pull them in
my office one-on-one, have lunch with them, go have dinner
with them and talk to them, because today’s young folks you
have to not only lead them, you got to nurture them. And so
I fight for them in front of others and I’ll fight with them
if I have to when nobody’s looking.
Perryman:
Leadership, in a sense, is not something that we choose for
ourselves. For some, it is more of a ‘calling.’
Fleetwood:
Yes because leading a bunch of people will tire you out and
you have to love it, you do have to be called to do it.
It’s almost like pastors; you’ve got to be called to do it.
There’ll be days when somebody will come to me telling me
that their electricity has been turned off and that they
need to go to work, so you fight for them. You know what
I’m talking about!
Perryman:
I certainly do!
Fleetwood:
It’s similar to pastoring. When members are sleeping or even
having fun, you’ve still got them and their situation on
your mind. At times you can’t even hardly enjoy your own
family because you’ve got your members on your mind.
Because you know their story; you know what their family’s
going through; you know what kind of financial shape they’re
in; you know that they don’t have other sources of income
and they need help. So you have to take them with you to
the heavenly throne when you go for yourself.
Perryman:
And I’ve witnessed first hand how you’ve helped many young
black men with their transition to adulthood. Thank you for
that.
Fleetwood:
I help the ones that want help. I used to tell my son you
don’t grow up to be who you want to be, you grow up
to be who you work to be.
Contact Rev. Donald Perryman, D.Min, at
drdlperryman@centerofhopebaptist.org
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