Painting of New River running through mountains (Unitarian Universalist Congregation)

What is Fathering?

A sermon delivered at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation (Blacksburg, VA), June 21, 2009 — Fathers’ Day, by the Reverend Christine Brownlie.


Someone recently shared an observation with me: while I often mention my mother, my sisters, my sons and — once in a blue moon — my former husband in my sermons, I never speak of my father. That’s true. My father is a tragic figure in my life story, trapped as he was in alcoholism, and it’s difficult for me to share memories of my relationship with him in a public setting. But this gentle observation pushed me to think about fathers, the work of fathering, and how fathers contribute to the emotional, physical, and social development of their offspring in ways that are different from the contributions of mothers. In short, what is fathering? And how do strong father-child relationships help children become healthy, happy, and strong adults.

I began my research a couple of weeks ago at the Blacksburg Aquatic Center. The class that I’m attending takes place at the same time as a family swim for parents and young toddlers, and a beginning swimming class for children who appeared to be four-to-six years old. What is especially good about this situation is the variety of nationalities: Asian, Hispanic, and Middle Eastern, as well as the range in socio-economic status. I was curious to see if there were any obvious differences in the way these dads with their various backgrounds treated their children.

It appeared to me that regardless of any and all cultural differences, the dads initiated physical activities more than moms. Moms and dads might hold a child and dip him or her into the water when they first got into the pool, but some dads progressed quickly to play that was more vigorous and — in some cases — more likely to make the child cry. Some mothers would quickly rescue the wailing tot, but it wasn’t long before the child was reaching out for dad again. Sometimes with the same result, but some kids managed to hang in there longer the next time, squealing with excitement. I noticed that this happened more often with the little boys, although several of the girls couldn’t get enough play time with daddy and, for the most part, the fathers were eager to respond. The mothers who were there alone also played with their babies, but tended to be more cautious and especially avoided risky play that might get water in the child’s face. If a child began to cry, most moms were solicitous and one even left the water. Fathers tended to be a little rougher, and they typically responded differently to tears. One dad tried to reassure his son, who was fussing. “Come on, you’re OK!” he said as he swooped the child up into the air again. When the little boy continued to cry, his father stopped the activity and tried to comfort him. He held him closer and spoke to him in a softer, gentler voice than he’d used before. But the message was still the same: you’re OK, there’s no reason to cry. After a minute the boy calmed down and soon the two were back to their play.

As the older children got ready for their class, I heard calls of “Watch me Mommy!” and Watch me Daddy!” The parent’s responses were pretty much identical, waves, “Yes I see you.” One father called to his son who was busy splashing with another boy to pay attention, and both boys turned and faced the instructor — at least for a few minutes. When the father called his son’s name the second time, the tone was sharper and the boy complied,

My observations didn’t really prove anything, but I was inspired to go a little deeper into this topic. As I drove, I thought about my earliest memories of my father, which are by and large happy ones. I recall lots of “roughhousing” and physical activity that was different from the kind of play that my mother engaged in with me and my sisters. Both my parents encouraged us to be fair to each other and to be brave and tough, but my father seemed to push the limits more often. My mother would complain that he was too rough when the horseplay led to tears, or that he got us too wound up right before bed so that we couldn’t settle down at night. He encouraged us to take chances by taking off the training wheels before I felt ready to be on just the two wheels, by pushing me to go off the diving board at the pool, or by tricking me onto the freeway on my first time driving a car. Each time I was terrified at the moment, and in the case of the driving lesson, I refused to ever go out with him again. But I also learned something about managing my fears. And I’ve wondered now and then how I would be different today if he’d been a part of my life in my teens and young adult years. Did his absence make a difference?

In general, do children benefit from having a father actively involved in their lives? This question has been around for three decades, and there are strong arguments on both sides of the issue.

The controversy really took off in a public way back in the 1970s. Some feminists argued that women were perfectly capable of raising their sons and daughters without a male partner. They might even do better because they would be free of the assorted problems that are inherent in a traditional male-dominated family. In 2007, syndicated columnist Maureen Dowd offered a piece with the controversial title “Are Fathers Necessary?” and created a bit of a controversy. More recently, there’s been a spate of books published by women who are raising boys on their own, without a male partner. Their claim is that boys (and presumably girls too) don’t really need a father to grow into a healthy adulthood.

I’m sure that this is true. I’m equally sure that children can be raised to be healthy adults without mothers who are actively involved in their lives. But I believe that a child’s chances of doing well in a world that includes relationships with people of the opposite gender are greater if he or she lives in a family that offers both mothering and fathering by loving adults who are committed to being involved and nurturing parents.

The differences between mothering and fathering show up early in a child’s life. Mark O’Connell, the author of The Good Father, notes that in general, fathers tend to be more physical, aggressive, and outgoing with their children, while mothers are more nurturing, caretaking, and mirroring. These differences are noticeable in the early weeks of a child’s life.

O’Connell observes that very young babies notice and benefit from the basic physical differences between fathers and mothers. Fathers smell different, they sound different, and their hands and bodies are different from mothers. And by about six weeks, babies recognize these distinctions. By about six weeks, an infant can discriminate between mom’s voice and dad’s voice. What’s more interesting is that by eight weeks, the baby is beginning to respond differently to the approach of his or her parents. When mom approaches the child relaxes — probably in anticipation of being fed. When dad approaches, the baby perks up. The eyes widen and brighten as if he or she is getting ready for some activity. And where moms tend to include toys in their play activities, dads prefer more physical play and tend to be unpredictable. Moms tend to be gentler and will often let the child lead the play activities, while dads tend to encourage risk-taking and trying new adventures.

Those early years are filled with exploration, learning to get around, communicating, and getting along with the rest of the people in the child’s life. There are frustrations and obstacles to overcome, problems to solve, and even pain to endure! In all of these areas of mastery, the differences between mothering and fathering come into play. Again, mothers tend to be more ready to help the child by making the task easier. She might feed the child when the baby can’t find it’s mouth while dad may be more likely to tolerate the mess and stick with the child’s fingers. If a crawling infant begins to wail because there’s an unmovable obstacle in it’s path, mom may hurry over to get it out of the way while dad helps the baby learn to navigate around it.

O’Connell believes that babies and young children receive two messages from the different styles of mothers and fathers. Each message is important to the child’s social development. The mother’s message is that the child is not alone in the struggles of life, and this builds a sense of trust. The father’s message is that the child has the ability to figure out solutions to problems. Children who know this about themselves tend to have more self-confidence and feel more secure about their ability to handle difficulties on their own. These children also tend to be better able to deal with frustration. In school, they are more able to wait for their teachers attention and do their work.

Fathers also tend to be more explicit about boundaries and expectations, which can help develop a greater capacity for self-control for both girls and boys. These children are also more likely to be able to share with other kids and to be trustworthy. Boys who receive fathering tend to have fewer behavior problems in schools, and both girls and boys showed less depression.

I was surprised to learn that fathers and mothers even approach the bedtime story with a different attitude. Studies suggest that girls and boys whose fathers read to them from an early age, demonstrate stronger cognitive abilities and — in the case of daughters — higher verbal skills. There’s some speculation that while mothers tend to use the story as a tool for helping the child settle down for bed, fathers tend to be more playful and creative when reading, bringing in humor or talking with the child about the story plot and the pictures — engaging the child in a more active way.

So what’s the real magic in fatherhood that makes dads so powerful? Dr. Keith Pruett who wrote FatherNeed, says that the answer is simple. Once again the difference is that dad is not mom. In being who he is — physically, emotionally, intellectually and spiritually — he opens a different door to the world for the child. Fathers help children become aware of differences in people, and that difference is not just OK, it’s very very good. Fathers tend to encourage their children to explore the world around them a bit more than mothers do. And then as these children mature, fathers help them prepare to be “safe and whole, beyond their mother’s arms.”

The mothers of these fortunate children also benefited. They too were more secure, knowing that they had a partner who would help them hold the line on rules and expectations, which is especially important when the darling toddler morphs into a challenging adolescent.

And this brings us to one more aspect of good fathering, and that is the relationship between father and mother. If their relationship is a happy one based on mutual love and respect (whether legally married or not), the children benefit greatly. In the crazy-busy, over-scheduled world that we live in, it can be almost impossible for parents to find time to pay attention to their own relationship. But as one wise man noted, the most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother. I’m sure that the reverse is also true. I’ve come across this wisdom in a variety of expressions over the years, but the message is always the same. If family life revolves around the needs of the children, then the children will not develop a mature grasp of their place in the world. Healthy, high-functioning adults know that they are not the focus of everything on the planet, and it is good for them to learn this as early as possible.

There is something about a father’s love that lasts — even through very bad times. When my father lay dying, despite all the difficulties and disappointments and bad memories, my sisters and I were able to be with him, holding his hand, telling him that we loved him, that we forgave him, and that we knew the next place — whatever that might be — would be OK. I cherish the happy memories I have of him, not out of denial, but because they take me to a better place of compassion and peace.

I hope that you too have good memories to sustain you on this Father’s Day. And to those of you who are engaged in this most important work, may your day be filled with love and joy.


Copyright 2009, Helen Christine Brownlie; Commercial duplication prohibited without permission of the author.
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