Becoming DADS

A Mission to Restore Absent Fathers

Charles Marvin

• Publisher: DADS
• Year: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781952943065
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Social Science Biographies
• Index: Social Sciences

Most child advocates agree that fatherlessness goes beyond the boundaries of race and socio-economic status--and is the root of almost every social ill faced by children in our society. Children from fatherless homes are more likely to live in poverty, become involved in drugs, alcohol abuse, and crime, drop out of school, and suffer from health and emotional problems. Without any real, lasting intervention, this cycle continues and expands from generation to generation--unless an individual does what it takes to stop it. Marvin Charles is living proof that this is possible. Combining heart-wrenching realities with vital information that graphically portrays the problem of fatherlessness in our society, Becoming DADS lays out practical strategies for restoring absentee fathers to their families and helping them develop the skills they need to be engaged, effective dads.

CHAPTER ONE

Putting a Face on the Absent Father

The man stood outside on the street at midnight in Seattle, Washington, gulping down a 64-ounce can of malt liquor he had just bought at a convenience store with five bucks he had scrounged up. It was a cold, cloudless November night.

He looked up to the sty, where he could clearly see the moon. "Lord, I'm coming home." The words fell dully out of his mouth, more like a death wish than a hope for renewal. At 43 years old, his life was going nowhere and he didn't know what to do or where to go. He felt utterly lost and totally alone. As he wandered back into his girlfriend's apartment, he was greeted by what seeemed like all he ever heard now . . . more bad news.

"I'm pregnant again," she told him sadly. The man thought to himself. One child was just born and now another baby is on its way? He felt a sharp pain in the pit of his stomach. The only money coming in was the little bit he earned as a day laborer and the $ 1,000 or so he could get from a government tax refund check. What he had been thought of before as "always new"—going from job to job, smoking crack with his girlfriend to escape his pain—was getting really old.

He had six children scattered throughout the Seattle foster care system and elsewhere. Now there would be another, this one coming into a crack environment. Deep down, he knew they could not raise this child in any sort of healthy way.

He had started smoking crack regularly with his new girlfriend and her friends to make himself feel better, priding himself that he wasn't an "addict" like them—as if his drug use were under control. In reality he was just as trapped in addiction as they were. At the root, he was seeking to numb the pain he felt. His children were being raised by strangers. He was passing on to them, in all of their innocence, the very curse he had inherited. This cut him deeply to the core.

How had he come to this place? He was overwhelmed by the consequences of years of making bad choices that had seemed to make sense at the time. He felt trapped by single fatherhood and a doomed sense of unfulfilled responsibility. He was entangled in his addiction and the confusing web it had woven around his life and his identity. Now there seemed no way out. It felt like he was being sucked down a whirling funnel; it just spun faster and faster, dragging him into its vortex, and he was helpless to get out.

*****

Nearly nine months later, the couple was sitting on the floor at a coffee table getting high on crack. The man suddenly noticed a puddle of what looked like water on the floor beside them. "What's that?" he asked.

"I don't know," his girlfriend replied flatly, as she continued smoking the crack pipe. She was oblivious to the fact that her water had broken and the baby was on its way.

Their daughter was born just as they reached the hospital. Amazingly, the medical personnel failed to run a drug test and after two days, the couple was released to bring her home. For the next seven months the pair continued smoking crack, regularly getting high with all of the madness that accompanied the lifestyle. The man took over as the baby's primary caregiver as his girlfriend was even deeper in her addiction than he was. He started to bond with this little girl through his daily care for her, even in his addicted state.

But as the cycle of addiction worsened, he knew they couldn't go on. One day he took the baby, grabbed a couple of cans of formula and four diapers, and left—with no plan of what he was going to do as he stepped out into the frigid morning air. It was December 22, 1997, three days before Christmas, but he couldn't care less. He knew there was no "Santa Claus fix" for the situation he was in.

He got off the bus at Harborview Medical Center, intending to leave the baby on the front steps of the hospital. He looked into her big brown eyes and started to cry. How had it come to this? I'm 43 years old and this is what my life has come to? No job. No education. Six kids living in different places and now it will be seven. No hope at all. If hope cost fifty bucks I couldn't buy it because I wouldn't believe it was real.

As he sat there in his misery and indecision, he tried the only thing he knew to do when he was really in trouble; he cried out, "God help me!" He had ignored God for years but who knew—maybe this time?

Just as he breathed out this desperate prayer he remembered a women's homeless shelter just around the corner. He walked there with the baby, hoping for some help. On his way down the steps to the shelter he spotted an empty, open backpack. "Thank you, God," he whispered. He dropped in the formula and the disposable diapers, put it over his shoulder, and carried the baby into the shelter. They kindly directed him to Child Protective Services and, although he hesitated, he realized he really had no other choice.

A CPS caseworker drove the man and child back to their apartment to get the necessary paperwork signed for relinquishment. When she opened the door, the man told his girlfriend abuptly, "We need to give the baby up to CPS." Reluctantly, she signed the paper. They walked back to the car and the father strapped the baby into her car seat and kissed her good-bye.

"Daddy's got to get it right. Daddy's going to see you again," he spoke gently to his baby girl. The caseworker closed the door and drove away.

As the car moved down the road he reflected on the unfairness of it all—not for him, but for his child. She didn't deserve any of this. She didn't deserve to be born with crack cocaine in her system. She didn't deserve to be raised in a drug environment or to suffer the consequences of her parents' choices. She didn't deserve to go from foster home to foster home and never feel the special love of a mom and dad.

The man loved his daugher and wanted to raise her with her mother. But if he was ever going to have that chance, he knew he needed to let her go . . . for now.

Real People, Real Stories, Real Barriers

This story is all too common, and the barriers facing this man, if he wants to get his daughter back, are almost unsurmountable:

1. He is addicted to crack cocaine, a habit that is even harder to break than addiction to heroin. Crack cocaine was this particular man's drug of choice, but many absent fathers turn to other drugs, some to alcohol. Once they begin to work with CPS, they can lose their children over a single glass of beer or glass of wine.

2. Chances are that this man has been in prison and prison is still in him. He knows he needs to get a job. If he has a record and if he is still using drugs he has little chance of being hired. He is stigmatized by his past.

3. He has tattoos from his time in prison. Many men in prison become tattooed with a distinctive kind of tattoo common to prison inmates. These tattoos can create an barrier for a man to be hired, as they can say to a potential employer: "ex-con."

4. Very likely he didn't have a father in his life, so he knows very little of what it means to be a committed father to his children. The "hidden tattoo" of fatherlessness can be even a greater barrier for a man to move ahead as a responsible, providing father.

5. He has lived an entire life of running from governmental authorities. In order for him to get his child back from the custody of the state, he will need to do the exact opposite of what he has done his entire life: submit to a host of authorities (Child Protection Services (CPS), Division of Child Support (DCS), family court, the parole board, etc.) who will justifiably treat him with suspicion because of his past. They will not look kindly on him or "believe the best" about him. I once heard a DCS worker say, "We aren't social workers. We're bill collectors!" And to get his children back, a father will not just need to deal with these agencies once or twice; their often intrusive presence will continue in his life for years.

The obstacles he will need to cross over will seem endless, and every time he tries, a new obstacle will be before him. The temptation to quit this whole obstacle course over which he has no control is overwhelming.

Why can't this man just say, "I'm going to be a good father now and be involved in my children's lives," and get on with it? Maybe you yourself have looked at men like this and wondered, "Why can't they just step up to the plate and support their families?" It's much easier said than done. To understand, it is helpful to back up to the day the child is born to a mother who is part of the low-income community.

First, the mother and father are rarely married. Currently, 40.6% of all births in the US are to unmarried women. Breaking down that number by ethnic communities, the statistics are compelling: the out-of-wedlock rate for white women in 2014 was 29.3%. Hispanic women gave birth outside of marriage at a rate of 53.2%. And for African American women, the rate was 71.4%.⁶ As a result, 57.6% of black children, 31.2% of Hispanic children, and 20.7% of white children are living absent their biological fathers.⁷ Children from fatherless homes are more likely to be poor, become involved in drug and alcohol abuse, drop out of school, and suffer from health and emotional problems. Boys are more likely to become involved in crime, and girls are more likely to become pregnant as teens.

These are real people, real stories, and real obstacles.

How a "Deadbeat Dad" Is Made

Here's how it happens, more often than not: After the birth of her baby, a single mother will go down to the TANF (Temporary Aid for Needy Families) office to apply for governmental aid to enable her to raise her child. The father, in a proud moment at the hospital, is asked to sign a paper he thinks is the child's birth certificate. It is not. He is signing a promissory note agreeing to support this child's material welfare and to forego any DNA testing to determine the actual father. The information goes directly to the state Prosecutor's Office. Chances are the man will not see the letter, as he is a transient. If he can be contacted, he will likely choose not to open it because, "No good news comes out of the prosecutor's office!"

The federal government grants states the right to impute a wage on a man based upon his age and the assumption he is gainfully employed in a relatively high paying job. A schedule is imposed upon the man without his knowledge or consent, and the meter starts to run against him each month from the day his child is born. An "arrearage account" is established. It can add up to over $ 100,000 for most of these men within just a few years.

At some point, either while in prison or in rehab, a man has an "awakening" and wants to be a responsible father, to do the right thing. He goes out and gets a job. As soon as he gets that job his social security number is entered into the system. The government is ready to pounce now. This is the opportunity for the state to begin to recover the money that has been accumulating in the man's arrearage account. He is probably starting at minimum wage and as soon as he begins to work, the little bit of money he earns is taken away to reimburse the state. The only possible way for this man to survive is to return to his lifestyle "underground"—living under the radar, disconnected from his family, and probably engaging in a criminal lifestyle in some way. Not surprisingly, this man also has no place he can stay that would be available for a woman and her child or children. There are literally no men's shelters available where he can have a child with him.

What are the chances this man will ever be able to earn enough money to pay his astronomical back child support, secure decent housing, and support a family? Realistically, slim to none. How do I know?

Because the story at the beginning of this chapter is mine.

The Road to Recovery

I was at my very bottom when I watched my daughter Marvette being driven away from me that cold December day. I was 43 years old at that time. My wife Jeanett and I were both addicted to crack cocaine. But I wanted to change.

The first thing I needed to do was get into treatment, which I did a few months after that day. There, I became clean and sober and surrendered my life to Jesus Christ for Him to change my life from the mess it had become. And after that, I put the same energy I had put into living the fast life into doing whatever I needed to do to put Jeanett and myself into a position to get our family back together.

I was like a football team that was 0-16. Yet, little by little, I gained confidence: getting clean, taking parenting classes, helping Jeanett get into treatment, moving into transitional housing. finding a steady job, and renting a house. All this time, we were learning through trial and error how to successfully navigate the court system. We were learning first hand how hard it is to persevere through a system that isn't always "fair." We were also learning how to deal with the reaping of the consequences of our past foolishness.

It wasn't long before our children were able to come home and live with us. As this happened, a desire grew within us both to help other men to also find their way through the obstacle course of putting their families back together. In my case, I was given a more public platform as the story of my reunion with my birth mother after 43 years brought me recognition in Seattle through the newspaper and local television stations. It soon was picked up by ABC's Good Morning America and gave me an audience with public figures such as former Seattle Mayor Norm Rice.

But as we founded D.A.D.S. (Divine Alternatives for Dads Services) in 2000, we were also led to people of quiet inflence like Levi Fisher, who was strategically placed within the federal government, and Jamie Bohnett, who advocated involved fathering through his family's foundation. These men believed in us and what we wanted to do. They became early adopters and helpful connectors to others who made it possible to grow the D.A.D.S. organization that has impacted thousands of men in these past 16 years.

At D.A.D.S., we can encourage the men who walk through our door that there is hope—hope that perseverance will pay off in the end for them as they seek to be responsible fathers to their children. We can also point now to countless stories of men who have, like me, restored connection with their children. One by one, these men are fulfilling a scripture verse found at the very end of the Old Testament. The verse is hanging on the wall of our D.A.D.S. office. It reads, "And He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children and children to their fathers" (Malachi 4:6).

There is hope for the ab...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Acknowledgments
• About the Authors
• Foreword
• Preface
• Table of Contents
• Introduction
• Chapter 1: Putting a Face on the Absent Father
• Chapter 2: My Story Begins
• Chapter 3: A Pivotal Year
• Chapter 4: Life on the Dark Side
• Chapter 5: Unplanned Fatherhood
• Chapter 6: The Road to Recovery
• Charles Family Photos
• Chapter 7: The Causes and Effects of Fatherlessness
• Chapter 8: Reversing the Curse
• Chapter 9: Working within the System
• Chapter 10: Hope and Help for the Journey
• Chapter 11: Becoming the Dad a Child Needs
• About D.A.D.S
• Endnotes