The first Mother’s Day in America was officially celebrated in 1914, 58 years before the first Father’s Day. I think that potentially says a lot about the art of parenting, past and present.
The idea back in the day was that ‘dad’ was a person who was around but not to be bothered, and the fact that he was rarely home, missed dinner, or baseball games was just a normal part of family life. Dads for much of the modern era have been evolving, and I like to think of myself as one of these “Darwin dads”— someone who has tried to increase his capacity to be wholly engaged in both a career as well as in his children’s lives.
I’m sure you’ve heard it said that 90% of being a dad is simply showing up. I don’t think the mothers reading this magazine article would entirely appreciate that sentiment, but there is something to it. In fact, data shows that kids whose dads aren’t actively involved in their lives don’t fare as well. One source of that data is fatherhood.org, which shows that one in four children in the U.S. lives in a home without a father present, “a phenomenon linked to higher risks of poverty, behavioral problems, and lower academic performance.” So, having a father around is important, but the modern-day dad has to be more than ‘just around’.
The question is, how do men become this “active participation dad” character with such limited tools and role models at their disposal?
Some might describe my paternal grandfather as a “man’s man”, who worked the overnight shift at a steel mill in Willoughby, Ohio, throughout my father’s entire childhood. My dad told me that, as a child, he spent his afternoons tiptoeing around the house with his three brothers, knowing that if they woke their father, there would be hell to pay.
Years later, as an adult, my dad worked a regular day job as an engineer throughout my entire childhood. We didn’t see him much, as he worked at least 10 hours a day and studied for an advanced degree on weekends. However, even with so much on his plate, he did his best to find time to connect. He knew from his own experience that being awake during the day was actually a blessing! He chose to fill as much of that precious time with me as possible, playing catch and teaching me how to ride a bike and wash a car. He also gave me the gift of a strong work ethic by showing me how to work hard, whether in the garden or in the office, but the best gift of all was the love my dad always tried to show me.
Fast forward to me. I have three kids of my own now, and I’ve been lucky to have a front-row seat to all the events and experiences that have shaped them to this point. This was possible because I made a concerted effort to be around as much as possible. Part of me feels obligated to make this effort to atone for the fact that my dad and his dad were never afforded that same luxury. Specifically in America, so many men not being able or not wanting to be a daily part of their family’s life has created gaps in modern parenting, which sends a lot of mixed messages surrounding fatherhood. On one hand, you’re expected to be a provider and support your family by working yourself to the bone. On the other hand, especially nowadays, you’re expected to show up, be present, and be involved. The dynamic is the same for moms, but for whatever reason, men are held to a standard that prioritizes worth and earnings over connection, but then tells us we should feel guilty about it. In some circles, this is called the “Dad Gap.”
According to Jeff Hittner, an executive coach, leadership expert, and founder of Ambitious Dads (ambitiousdads.com), there are six “Dad Gaps” that fathers regularly confront, often leaving them feeling stuck or inadequate.
At the top of the list is the “Time Gap”. A father may be with his family, participating in together time, but his mind is elsewhere. He’s thinking about chores he’s behind on or work he brought home to finish over the weekend. He’s unable to fully be in the moment, which creates a sense of guilt. There’s never enough time, and we struggle to prioritize just as moms do.
Hittner offers two suggestions he believes can help here. First, schedule just ten minutes a day of real presence with your kids. Set a timer, pick a room, pick an activity, and put the screens away. You may find ten minutes turn into thirty, and your kids will pick up that you are making an effort. That means something.
Next, schedule recovery time. It seems counterintuitive that taking a break from your kids will make you a more engaged father, but Hittner says many parents are not centered and wear the fact that they haven’t had any breaks since becoming parents as a badge of honor.
“It’s not a badge, it’s a leak,” he said.
Second on his list is the “Confidence Gap”. As I mentioned at the top, Father’s Day came almost 60 years after Mother’s Day. Moms are awesome. They have all the answers, and even when they can barely function due to lack of sleep or pure exhaustion, they still manage to take care of things. I consider it a win when I load the dishwasher, and my wife doesn’t come in afterward to rearrange the dishes to her liking. That’s a gap in confidence that feeds itself and creates a sort of paralysis.
We all want to be Super Dad, but fatherhood is a daily stress test. It’s easy to feel shame or frustration, but that doesn’t have to be where the conversation ends. Hittner says, “We’re still going to get it wrong sometimes. Confidence grows when we stop treating those misses as proof we’re failing.” Some of the funniest family stories I can remember involve failure. I think your children need to see you fail occasionally so that they know it’s ok. You get up, and you go again.
One example happened several years ago – I was on a boat with two of my kids, and because of my own ineptitude, the outboard engine we were using to propel the boat fell completely off. Down it went, still running all the way down to the bottom of Davey Jones’ Locker. It mewed and yawed desperately until the rubber fuel hose that was its last connection to the above-water world snapped, and there we were – stranded. I didn’t handle it all that well in the moment, but later, as I tried to recover that 25 HP Yamaha and my dignity, I learned a lot about being a father.
The important thing is to just remember that you’re being watched all the time by little (and not-so-little anymore) eyes that may one day model your behavior. What do you want them to be modeling? A dad who struggles and gets angry at his own limitations, or one who explores them, overcomes them, and shows his vulnerability to making mistakes.
The third big “Dad Gap” as described by Hittner is the “Brotherhood Gap”, and this one hits hard. It comes down to the fact that most of us don’t have many other dads in our social network with whom we can share our fatherhood fears and triumphs. That’s why it’s so important to get out of the house, join a team, a club, or a group of guys at the park for a game of hoops. Getting out and connecting with other dads can help you be a better dad!
About four years ago, PJ and I started mass-texting every dad we knew in our town to join us for happy hour at our local pub. We started with just a handful, but now our once-a-month meetups draw around 18-20 dads every time. Some come once, some once in a while, and others every single time. It’s about belonging and knowing that the guy next to you has the same struggles as well as victories that you do.
PJ, who retired from jumping out of helicopters for the Coast Guard about 5 years ago, said: “Being a dad is the greatest thing that I am or ever was.” That sentiment lives in most of us dads, even though we sometimes struggle to tap into it. That’s when friends/brothers can really come in handy.
The fourth gap, as described by Hittner, is the “Co-Parenting Gap”. When you and your partner can’t get on the same page about parenting issues, you end up creating a lot of chaos in the home, and kids readily pick up on that. What comes from a place of wanting to help and be an effective partner sometimes turns into a frenzied attempt to “just get it done”, rather than relying on collaboration and clear communication with your partner.
Hittner has a clever way of framing this nearly universal parenting problem: “Kitchen alignment, not table debate. No debating in front of the kids. Save it for a quieter moment after bedtime.”
This can be hard to do, but your kids will benefit greatly from the “unified front.” By their nature, they are looking for cracks in the surface. If you can conceal those cracks in an honest and meaningful way, it can foster a sense of safety and security that can be healthy for everyone.
One thing my wife has always been great at is letting me be a part of the process. She carries the heavier load, but I am trying to do better, and part of that is communicating clearly so I can better understand what needs to be addressed.
Hittner’s fifth gap is the “Role Model Gap”. Like the Brotherhood Gap, it shows that many men lack strong father figures as role models. If you were fortunate enough to have a great dad yourself, you’re ahead of the game, but if you weren’t, how do you find that inner dad voice? How do you know what you’re doing is correct or that you’ve made the best choices?
According to Hittner, successful dads build a small “Board of Advisors.” They pick two or more men to learn from: one dad who’s perhaps a generation ahead of you, and another who’s likely going through or has gone through similar child-rearing moments.
I have great resources in my father-in-law, Dave, and my mentor, Larry. As a father, Dave is unique. He’s loving and cares deeply about his family, but he’s been through things that would make a lot of us bitter. Instead of embracing anger after war and other challenges as a young man, he filled his world with love. He accepts people and things as they are and doesn’t seek to change them; he just seeks to embrace them for who they are. Dave taught me that a man can express himself in emotions other than just anger. That was something that took some learning and guidance, and I am thankful to him for that.
My other father figure, Larry, has been an advisor to me on many topics, including fatherhood, for years. He’s 82 years old, and when an 82-year-old asks if you want some advice on raising your kids, the only answer is “yes”! Some of the best advice he’s given me came from his regrets. He tells me stories about things he missed or would do differently, and I immediately make a mental note of those things. There is great value in learning from other people’s mistakes – sometimes even more than learning from your own.
The final gap is the “Legacy Gap”. We tell ourselves we’ll be less reactive, more intentional, and more present—then life throws us a curveball. We feel the guilt and fear of losing time, but don’t know how to address it. We worry about what our kids will think of us one day when they’re older, or when we’re gone. (Dads love thinking about their legacy!)
“We want our kids to thrive, not just right now, but long after we’re gone. But with the day-to-day grind of parenting, work, and responsibilities, it’s easy to get stuck in survival mode,” said Hittner. “Too many dads put off the big-picture thinking—educational vision, social and emotional focus, long-term values—until it becomes ‘someday’, and someday keeps moving.”
One exercise Hittner recommends is taking a few minutes to write a brief “Legacy Letter” to your child. Include two snapshots: who you are as a dad right now and who you’re trying to become. Then add one small commitment that lives in the gap between the two.
So, in conclusion to this article, I’m creating my very own “Legacy Letter” to my kids:
To My Kids: I love you, and I am so proud of the people you are. You make me want to be worthy of the immense privilege of being your dad.
Currently, I am a dad caught up in the demands of life, telling myself this is the way it’s supposed to be, knowing full well that’s not the whole story. The dad I am now is often too focused on paying for college, car insurance, and other expenses. I feel like providing these things is somehow a way to show you how much I love you.
But the dad I want to be is one who doesn’t need things or money to define how I feel about you. I want you to know just by looking at me and by the time I spend with you that I worship and adore you—because I absolutely do. I am also committed to being connected and staying close to you, because I’m your dad, but also because I am a son and a grandson of good men who didn’t have the same opportunity.
