More than a thousand students have called me “Mr. Tang.” Many refer to me as “Kingsley,” and my wife, family and close friends know me as “Kings.” There is only one person who calls me “daddy.”
Ollie, my eldest son calling me “daddy,” is something I don’t think about a lot. It’s part of the normal soundtrack of my life. However, some reason last week, when I heard Ollie calling “daddy,” looking for me, something hit me.
There’s a singularity in the word “daddy,” for most people, and even if there isn’t, if there is someone who has two dads, that’s still a very special way to call someone. We associate many things with titles, and when these titles are limited to only a few people, that association, that meaning is deeper, and special.
When I think of the word “dad,” I think of my father. As I get older, I feel more and more comfort and gratitude being able to say that word and have someone who has been so important in my life turn and acknowledge me as a response to that title. My dad doesn’t have that anymore, and even though his role as my dad is so different than it used to be, he’s still there for me, he’s still my dad. In that title, rest so much of who I am, and what I need in this world. I still seek his affirmation, even though he is gracious and openly proud of me. He’s my dad, and it’s hard sometimes living across the country from him.
That’s what hit me the other day. I was only a room away when Ollie said “daddy,” and I was able to be there for him. It's a blessing and privilege to be there for my son. I wish there was more time with him, but we do the best we can. Being there for your child physically, emotionally, and mentally is difficult sometimes, but it’s what we do, it’s how we earn that title.
The title of “daddy” is something you get from your child and is something that only a child can grant upon a father. It’s a title that can mean so much good or bad. It’s a responsibility, a never-ending task, and an opportunity to change a person’s world.
In the world I envision for my children where gender roles are demolished, and expressions of masculinity are diverse and inclusive, what does it mean to be a “daddy?” Whatever it means to the child when they think of a parent that loves them. Every parent has different styles and ways of showing and receiving love. In this plurality the meaning of the term “daddy,” is not defined by baseball games, it’s defined as the person who is there. The title, while meaningful, is less important than the meaning behind the title, the feeling of love, and security that only a loving parent can provide for their children.
Ethan hasn’t called me “daddy,” yet, but I will make sure to thank him when he does, and I will promise to him to continue to earn that title from my special little one.
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