Black Fatherhood – Poppa University

One of the best gifts a father can give a son is a stable place to land. A place where the boy does not have to earn love with his stats. A place where he can be honest about fear and still feel respected. A place where he can hear, “I’m proud of your effort,” and also hear, “Now let’s get back to work.” These combinations are how boys learn that love is not fragile and standards are not cruel.

So what does encouragement look like in practice, beyond good intentions? Here’s what dads and others can do to instill belief and confidence in our boys.

By Kenneth Braswell, CEO, Fathers Incorporated

This blog post is in conversation with “Dads, Let’s Build Our Daughters’ Confidence Long Before They Call Her ‘Too Much,’”a companion piece published by Dr. Matisa Wilbon.

We talk about boys as if they are either born with swagger or born without it, as if courage arrives fully formed, as if self-trust is automatic, then look up years later and wonder, “Why are so many young men brilliant, capable, and still hesitant to step forward?” The truth is plain. Boys do not merely need motivation. They need intentional encouragement, repeated instruction, and a community that teaches them to believe in themselves before the world gets in the way.

A boy can learn the mechanics of a jump shot in a weekend, but his belief in those skills takes longer. Belief is built below the surface, layer by layer, under pressure, in weather that does not always cooperate. Yet in too many homes, schools, locker rooms, and neighborhoods, we treat confidence as a personality trait rather than a skill.

A confident boy raises his hand when he is unsure. He tries out even after a bad game. He applies for the program that scares him. He speaks up when a friend is headed toward danger. He takes correction without collapsing. He can lose without labeling himself a loser, and win without becoming someone he does not recognize.

Confidence is the inner permission to keep going, and that permission is one of the most powerful protective factors a boy can carry.

Many boys are learning to perform manhood while still trying to understand themselves. They’re absorbing messages that say emotions are weakness, asking for help is soft, being unsure is shameful, and failure is final. They are watching highlights, not habits; seeing applause, not the discipline that earned it; and envying the destination, unaware of the decades it took to arrive. So when boys struggle, they don’t understand that struggle is part of growth; they assume something is wrong with them.

This is why encouragement matters.

Encouragement isn’t about flattery. Encouragement isn’t about pretending every shot is good. And encouragement isn’t about lowering standards. Real encouragement tells the truth and protects identity. It separates performance from personhood. It says, “That wasn’t your best rep,” and also says, “You are still becoming.” Encouragement corrects the work without insulting the worker. It challenges the behavior without tearing down the boy.

One of the most enduring lessons from great public leaders is how they speak belief into people who don’t (yet) see it in themselves. The best speeches in history follow the same pattern: Name the struggle, affirm the dignity, and call the next step. This isn’t just a rhetorical technique; it is a developmental blueprint. Boys need adults who can name the struggle without shaming them, affirm their dignity without coddling them, and call them to the next step without abandoning them.

Changing How We Talk to Boys About Failure

The “next step” is crucial. Boys do not gain confidence from speeches alone, but from the evidence created by doing hard things and surviving them and accepting guidance through discomfort rather than being rescued from it. Boys’ belief is built through repetition, not singular declarations.

A parent’s role in supporting boys’ confidence starts with how we talk to them after failure. Many adults accidentally teach boys that failure is dangerous. We rush to soften it or explain it away. We blame the refs, the coach, the system, and everybody else. This is the message this sends our boys: “Failure is so painful we have to escape it” — a lesson that breeds confidence so fragile it evaporates the minute the scoreboard shifts.

A better approach to guiding boys through failure (and teaching resilience) says, “That hurt. Tell me what you saw.” It asks, “What did you learn? What’s the adjustment? What’s your plan for tomorrow?” Instead of ignoring pain, this approach guides boys through pain toward growth, and a boy who can narrate his own setbacks becomes a young man who can lead himself through life.

This type of encouragement matters because boys need safe mirrors. Especially in adolescence, boys constantly ask, “Who am I?” and “What do I have to do to be accepted?” If the only mirrors they have are social media, peer pressure, and public stereotypes, they will construct their identity around performance and approval. This identity is an unstable one. It rises and falls on likes, laughs, rankings, and who is hot this week. A boy needs at least one adult who reflects something deeper back to him: character, effort, integrity, creativity, discipline, kindness, leadership, faith, and service.

This is especially urgent for Black boys, who often face an extra burden. They are often judged faster, punished harder, and understood less. In many settings, Black boys don’t receive the benefit of being seen as “still learning.” They get labeled, and if adults fail to disrupt these labels, they can be devastating. When we refuse to let a boy’s worst day write his life story, our encouragement becomes a form of advocacy.

Teaching boys to believe in themselves means giving them a vocabulary for perseverance, teaching them to expect obstacles but not surrender, and showing them examples of men who overcame setbacks without becoming bitter, carried responsibility without becoming hard, and stayed tender without losing toughness.

In sports, the confidence struggle is easy to spot because there’s a scoreboard. A boy misses shots, rides the bench, doubts himself, and starts playing not to mess up instead of playing to win. Confidence becomes caution. His body is on the court, but his mind is in self-protection. Coaches either deepen that fear or dismantle it. Parents either multiply the pressure or build the platform.

8 Practical Tips for Encouraging Our Boys

One of the best gifts a father can give a son is a stable place to land. A place where the boy does not have to earn love with his stats. A place where he can be honest about fear and still feel respected. A place where he can hear, “I’m proud of your effort,” and also hear, “Now let’s get back to work.” These combinations are how boys learn that love is not fragile and standards are not cruel.

So what does encouragement look like in practice, beyond good intentions? Here’s what dads and others can do:

Praise effort and strategy more than outcomes. When boys only get celebrated for winning, they learn to chase applause, not mastery. Celebrate preparation, discipline, and decision-making. Say, “I saw you stay locked in on defense,” “I noticed how you responded after a turnover,” “I love how you kept your energy up on the bench,” and “Your footwork was sharper today.” This feedback teaches boys what’s in their control.
Normalize the idea of growth seasons. Let boys know that confidence rises and dips. Name the patterns: new level, new pressure. Teach them that discomfort is often a sign they are stretching, not failing. When a boy expects struggle, he is less likely to panic when it arrives.
Give boys language for their inner world. Boys don’t lack emotion; they lack vocabulary. When you teach a boy to say, “I’m embarrassed,” “I’m anxious,” “I’m frustrated,” or “I’m discouraged,” you give him a steering wheel he can use to drive his feelings toward constructive action.
Build a small, consistent routine that produces evidence. Confidence grows when a boy can point to his own work, and adults can help him create a practice plan that fits his life: 15 minutes a day of ball-handling, 20 free throws before school, film study once a week, strength work twice a week. Set goals small enough to do, then keep it consistent enough to become proof.
Treat mistakes as data, not drama. When boys get coached with heat instead of clarity, they hear, “Mistakes make you unworthy.” This message leads to fear-based playing and fear-based living. After we correct the mistake, we must return the boy to his identity. “Next play” is not just a sports phrase; it’s a life strategy.
Make room for mentors. Boys benefit from more than one voice. A coach can say something a parent cannot say. A teacher can see something the coach cannot. An uncle, pastor, neighbor, older athlete, or community leader can model a form of manhood that is grounded and whole. When a boy has multiple healthy mirrors, he is less dependent on unhealthy approval.
Check the soundtrack. Boys listen to what we repeat, not what we intend. If dialogue at home is constant criticism, sarcasm, comparison, or jokes that cut, boys learn to doubt their worth. If they receive steady encouragement with clear standards, they learn self-respect. This isn’t about being soft; it’s about being wise.
Teach boys how to define themselves beyond a single lane. A boy who thinks he is “only” an athlete will crumble when sports disappoint him. A boy who thinks he’s “the smart one” will panic when schoolwork gets hard. Encourage multi-dimensional identity. “You’re disciplined.” “You’re thoughtful.” “You’re a leader.” “You’re creative.” “You’re a servant.” Build a character-based identity that can survive changing seasons.

Encouragement also requires adults to do their own work. Boys know when our words are performative, recognize when praise is a bribe, and perceive ego in the expectations we set. When a father tries to relive his own missed opportunities through his son, the son carries weight that isn’t his. If a coach needs boys to win in order to feel respected, the boys learn that love is conditional. If a teacher has already decided what a boy can become, that bias shows up in every interaction, even silence.

The call for fathers is simple and demanding. Encourage boys with intention. Teach belief as a skill. Create evidence through routine. Correct without crushing. Love without requiring performance. Challenge without withdrawing affection. And show them examples of men who carry strength and softness together.

Society spends a lot of time asking boys to be confident without teaching them how. We demand resilience while neglecting the conditions that produce it. We ask for leadership while starving them of mentors. We want courage, but we punish vulnerability and act surprised when boys retreat.

A different future starts with one boy, one voice, one moment after a tough day, one adult who refuses to let discouragement have the last word. Belief is contagious when it’s credible. When a boy hears, “You can do this,” and then receives guidance on how to do it, he changes. He stands taller. He tries again. He becomes a young man who can look back and say, “I didn’t always feel confident, but I learned how to keep going.”

That is the goal. Not boys who never doubt, but boys who know what to do when doubt shows up. Boys who can take a hit and keep their hearts. Boys who believe in themselves enough to keep building, learning, and rising.

The purpose of the study is both practical and corrective. Practically, the team set out to learn which supports exist for fathers in NPU-V and which supports are missing, so service delivery can match real needs. Correctively, the paper pushes back on a long tradition of policy and public narrative that treats fathers as an afterthought in “family strengthening,” even while research keeps reaffirming that fathers are a protective factor in child development.

by Dr. Matisa Wilbon, Moynihan Institute for Fatherhood Research and Policy

Much research on Black fathers begins with an assumption and then seeks evidence, but we did the opposite. We began with a place, a set of neighborhoods, and a simple commitment: Listen closely to what young, nonresidential Black fathers say they are carrying, what they need, and what keeps them from being the fathers they are trying to become.

Researching Young Black Fathers in Atlanta

The Moynihan Institute for Fatherhood Research and Policy (MIFRP) at Fathers Incorporated (FI) contributed findings from this research to a peer-reviewed article published by the Child Welfare League of America in its journal Child Welfare. Authored by Jeffrey Shears, David Miller, Lorenzo N. Hopper, Cassandra Bolar, Armon Perry, and Britany Hodges, “The Experiences and Needs of Atlanta’s Young NPU-V Black Fathers” focuses on Neighborhood Planning Unit V (NPU-V), a historically Black area of Atlanta with concentrated economic hardship and a high share of households headed by unmarried females.

The purpose of the study is both practical and corrective. Practically, the team set out to learn which supports exist for fathers in NPU-V and which supports are missing, so service delivery can match real needs. Correctively, the paper pushes back on a long tradition of policy and public narrative that treats fathers as an afterthought in “family strengthening,” even while research keeps reaffirming that fathers are a protective factor in child development.

Method matters here because trust is part of the data. The researchers employed a phenomenological approach and conducted semi-structured focus groups with 13 young Black fathers aged 18–30 who were connected to NPU-V. Fathers were recruited through familiar community touchpoints like churches and barbershops, along with social media and FI’s local reach. The conversations — conducted in virtual focus groups — were recorded, transcribed, and analyzed using interpretive phenomenological analysis, alongside constant comparative qualitative methods.

This approach did more than “collect information.” It created a setting where fathers could address what they don’t usually get asked, a setting where they could hear each other say it, too. The final paper notes that this group dynamic fostered solidarity and that several fathers wanted to continue meeting after the study ended. This is a signal in itself: Sometimes the intervention begins the moment a man realizes he isn’t the only one trying to figure it out.

Young Black Fathers Face Fear, Stigma, and Service Gaps

Three core findings rise to the surface. Each is blunt, human, and teachable.

First, fear is not the enemy of fatherhood. Fear is often the doorway. Fathers described the transition into parenting as emotionally heavy, especially when many of them did not grow up with active fathers and had few positive models to borrow from. That lack of modeling did not produce apathy. It produced anxiety about getting it wrong. One father said the quiet part out loud. He was “excited and scared” because he might “screw up” his children’s lives, but he still had to “do the best” he could. That line is the opposite of inertia: It’s a mission statement.

Second, stigma is not just something fathers feel. It is something systems do. The young fathers we talked with spoke about the way Black fatherhood is socially discounted, as if fathering is automatically assumed to be a mother’s domain and a father’s presence is optional. “Everything goes to mothers,” one participant said, capturing how recognition, resources, and social permission often flow in one direction. The fathers also named how community patterns get turned into permanent stereotypes, such as “Most homes are broken” and “Dads not being there… is too much of the norm.” These narratives influence policy and culture, as well. People assume Black fathers don’t care, and so they question the logic of investing in them.

Third, the service gap is real, and fathers feel it in their bones. The fathers described limited access to support designed for men and contrasted it with what they routinely see for women. One line lands like an indictment of how we’ve built the safety net: “There is no welfare system for men.” Citing an example of a couple feeling pressured to claim separation to qualify for food support, another father described how public assistance rules can indirectly penalize a father’s presence. When eligibility rules incentivize the appearance of father absence, we should not be surprised when communities begin to normalize it.

How Research Impacts the Work of Fathers Incorporated

The paper does not stop at the problem. It highlights what fathers do when they face economic strain, stigma, and thin supports: They improvise. They build informal networks through relatives and “fictive kin,” and they keep trying to stay active. Some find their way into fatherhood programming that becomes a lifeline.

Fathers described the difference that a local fatherhood program made. Without it, one said, he would not have had anything to help him with his child. Another said fathers need this kind of support at birth so they know their rights before crisis forces them to learn them in the hardest way possible.

This is where FI comes in, not as a footnote, but as the bridge between research and repair. The paper explicitly references FI’s Gentle Warriors Academy (GWA) as a response to the void of supportive services, a place where fathers can increase their capacity rather than be treated as a problem to manage.

This lines up with how FI describes its broader posture: Listen, lead, innovate, then turn what we learn into programming that reaches men where they are and walks with them toward where they’re trying to go.

The most important thing to understand about how FI is using this research is that it is not being treated as a “report to admire.” It’s being used as an operating document.

Fatherhood research informs how we design entry points.

The study reinforces that young fathers often enter fatherhood with fear and uncertainty, not a lack of love. That means early engagement should normalize anxiety, build parenting confidence, and provide practical coaching quickly, before shame hardens into disengagement.

Fatherhood research informs how we talk about fatherhood.

If fathers are navigating stigma as a daily headwind, then narrative change is not branding work; it’s service work. Programs utilize language that restores dignity and expectation and imagery that makes father presence feel normal, not rare.

Fatherhood research informs local partnerships.

When fathers say they don’t see anything “specifically catered” to them, the answer is not simply to advertise harder. It’s to embed father-focused supports where fathers already are. The recruitment strategy, then, points toward effective community infrastructure: barbershops, churches, community hubs, and trusted relationships.

Fatherhood research informs advocacy and policy reform.

In its conclusion, this recent paper calls for further exploration of co-parenting, father access, and legal rights, pointing directly to Georgia’s legitimation process as an added barrier for unmarried fathers’ access and decision-making authority. It argues that fathers are often required to carry responsibility while being denied rights, and that this imbalance harms families.

This policy emphasis is critical for other stakeholders across Metro Atlanta and beyond, because the MIFRP paper is not only about NPU-V. NPU-V is a lens. What the fathers describe shows up in many places: in child welfare systems that struggle to identify and engage fathers, in public benefits rules that unintentionally encourage father invisibility, in court processes that confuse rights with residence, and in agencies that have “family” programming that is functionally mother-only.

Research-Informed Action Steps for Fatherhood Programs

So how should other fatherhood programs, funders, agencies, and policymakers use this information?

Begin with one shift: Move from a deficit lens to a strengths lens. The paper directly situates its implications in the shadow of the Moynihan legacy and the corrective work of scholars who documented Black fathers’ engagement, including caregiving behaviors that contradict popular portrayals. The invitation is clear: Stop treating Black fatherhood as an absence to explain and start treating it as a capacity to build.

From there, the actionable takeaways are straightforward:

Design services that answer fear with skill. Build modules and coaching that increase parenting self-efficacy, especially for fathers who didn’t have an active father model. Normalize parents’ “emotional roller coaster,” while teaching practical routines: child development, discipline, bonding, and communication.
Treat stigma as a service barrier, not just a social problem. Audit your agency’s intake forms, waiting rooms, staff language, hours of operation, assumptions embedded in case planning, and the unspoken message about whether fathers belong. Are these father-inclusive? Fathers notice when “everything goes to mothers.” Fix anything that reinforces that message.
Build supports that are real, not symbolic. Fathers are asking for more than inspiration. They are asking for navigation: employment supports, legal education, child support guidance, parenting time pathways, and help building stable co-parenting routines. The study’s participants are clear that the gap is structural.
Nurture group-based brotherhood. The research shows the power of men hearing men, then wanting to continue. Be intentional about building cohort models, peer mentoring programs, and alumni networks that turn isolation into belonging.
Partner with women-serving systems without making fathers an add-on. Many services flow through maternal health, early childhood, schools, and child welfare. Create agreements that ensure fathers are identified early, invited, and engaged with dignity, while keeping family safety as a nonnegotiable standard.
Advocate for policy that aligns responsibility with rights. If your state has legal processes that delay or complicate fathers’ rights, build clear pathways to education, legal referrals, and reform efforts. The paper elevates legitimation as one such pressure point in Georgia.

Final Thoughts

If you want a single sentence that captures why this research matters, it’s this: Fathers are not asking to be rescued from fatherhood; they’re asking to be resourced for it.

Our research issues a challenge to every stakeholder who touches families. When a father says he’s scared he might mess up his kids’ lives, he is not confessing weakness. He is embracing responsibility. Our job as a field is to meet this instinct with structures that make his presence possible.

And that is what the rigor of MIFRP’s work accomplishes. It takes what has been treated as a private struggle and places it in public view. It takes what has been treated like an anecdote and names it as evidence. It takes fatherhood narratives that have become stereotypes and returns them to their rightful owners: fathers themselves.

If you read headlines on HB 1343, you may think this bill settles the question of fatherhood for unmarried dads in Georgia, but it does not. If you read the talking points, you may think HB 1343 creates equal parenting time, but it does not. And if you read social media arguments, you may think it either saves the day or destroys the system. It does neither.

Fathers Incorporated welcomes HB 1343 as a meaningful step in the right direction. However, serious risks exist in its current language. As written, it has the potential to be very helpful for some fathers and very harmful for others — unless we fine-tune it now.

By Kenneth Braswell, CEO, Fathers Incorporated

Fathers Incorporated (FI) is 1,000% in support of Georgia finding a better way to establish legal fatherhood for unmarried fathers, past, present, and future. We are also 1,000% in support of SB 404 and the push toward a presumption that children deserve meaningful time with both fit parents, including a clear starting point of shared parenting when safety and the child’s best interests allow it.

This movement — and the conversation around it — matters. It takes courage to pick up a hard issue and put it into legislative language. A state does not change because someone posts a thought online. A state changes because someone writes a bill, takes the heat, counts the votes, walks the halls, and refuses to quit. That effort deserves respect.

Now let’s speak plainly about what respect requires. Respect requires honesty about what is working and what is not. Respect requires the discipline to avoid the “short win” that leads to a long, messy cleanup for children, families, and the courts. When the subject is childhood, putting the long win at risk is not an option. Childhood does not wait on our learning curve. Children do not get refunded the years we spend trying to fix what we created when we rushed.

This is why FI welcomes House Bill 1343, widely known as Georgia’s Responsible Fathers Act, as a meaningful step in the right direction while also naming the serious risks that exist in the language as it’s currently written.

If you are reading headlines, you may think this bill settles the question of fatherhood for unmarried dads in Georgia, but it does not. If you are reading the talking points, you may think HB 1343 creates equal parenting time, but it does not. And if you are reading social media arguments, you may think it either saves the day or destroys the system. It does neither.

What it tries to do is narrower and, because it is narrower, it has the potential to be very helpful for some fathers and very harmful for others — unless we fine-tune it now.

Understanding Georgia’s Responsible Fathers Act (HB 1343)

Here is the heart of HB 1343 in everyday language: Georgia has long made a distinction between being a biological father and being a legal father. A man can be the biological father and even establish paternity through genetic testing, but he still will not have the legal standing he needs to seek custody or court-ordered parenting time. That standing is typically achieved through legitimation.

HB 1343 attempts to create a faster, more accessible pathway to legitimation by allowing the Department of Human Services to issue an administrative legitimation order under certain conditions and then file that order with the superior court clerk. There are safety screens. There are disqualifiers tied to serious concerns. There is also an emphasis on doing this early in the child’s life.

The intent is sound. Nobody who sits across from a confused father holding a stack of court papers can pretend the current system is easy, fair, or consistently navigable. We have watched men who want to do right get lost in a maze that seems to be designed for people who already have money, time, stable transportation, and legal guidance. We have watched mothers shoulder the full custody posture Georgia defaults to, not always because that is what they want, but that’s the structural default when the father is not legitimated. We have watched co-parents who could have formed a workable plan in the first year of a child’s life become enemies by year five, not because they were destined to fail, but because the lengthy, frustrating process hardened them.

So when legislators say, “We can do better,” we agree. When legislators say, “We can create a faster route,” we agree. When legislators say, “We can educate families earlier,” we agree. But “faster” is not the same as “fair.” “Administrative” is not the same as “accountable.” “A pathway” is not the same as “a system.”

And that’s where the fine-tuning of HB 1343 must happen.

FI has been in the trenches of this work for 21 years nationally and 11 years here in Georgia, not as armchair commentators, but as practitioners, builders, and advocates. Through Gentle Warriors Academy (GWA), we have worked with thousands of fathers walking their fatherhood journey, including many navigating the legitimation process, custody battles, child support obligations, and the emotional toll that comes with trying to be present in a system that recognizes a father’s responsibilities faster than it recognizes his rights. We have watched how legal challenges rarely show up alone. They come wrapped in transportation issues, employment instability, housing uncertainty, unresolved trauma, conflict with the co-parent, distrust of institutions, and a lack of step-by-step support.

This matters because legislation does not exist solely on paper: It lands on people, on families carrying stress, on overloaded courtrooms, and on agencies that may or may not have the capacity, training, staffing, and procedural clarity to carry out what the law demands.

A bill can be well-intentioned and still create harm if it underestimates how the real world works.

That is why we support HB 1343 while also insisting on amendments. In the field, the difference between a promising reform and a painful reform is often found in the details nobody wants to talk about until the damage is done.

Amending the Responsible Fathers Act in Georgia

Here are seven practical amendments to the bill’s language that would dramatically improve HB 1343 and reduce harm:

1. Write due process into the statute.
If an agency is being empowered to make a determination as consequential as legitimation, the bill must clearly spell out notice requirements, including how the mother is informed, how she can respond, how disputes are handled, what evidence standards look like in practice, what hearings exist if facts are contested, and what appeal pathway exists for either parent. “Trust the process” is not a legal standard. Families deserve a process that is visible, reviewable, and consistent across counties. Due process provisions must include clear notice, dispute resolution, appeal rights, and error correction

2. Extend the eligibility window and add “good cause” exceptions.
The time window proposed by HB 1343 is so restrictive that it risks creating a new cliff. When access is tied to a narrow timeframe after birth, fathers who are unaware of the pregnancy, unaware of the child, blocked from contact, deployed, incarcerated, hospitalized, or simply navigating instability can be shut out. That does not promote responsibility. It punishes reality. A workable bill must include a longer eligibility window and clear “good cause” exceptions, because fatherhood is not a coupon that expires before a man even gets his footing.

3. Expand inputs for the presence of conflict and coercion.
The bill must address how conflict and coercion show up outside criminal convictions. Safety matters. Protective orders matter. Convictions matter. But anyone who has worked in family systems knows that coercive control, intimidation, manipulation, and high-conflict dynamics can exist without a conviction on record. If the bill’s safety screens are limited to what’s already documented by the system, it can miss what is happening in the home. This does not mean we deny fathers; it means we build safeguards and assessment pathways that reflect reality. A better version of this bill includes a safety framework that recognizes coercive control patterns and high-conflict indicators beyond convictions, with appropriate safeguards that still protect fit fathers from blanket suspicion.

4. Clarify the relationship between the administrative pathway and the courts.
How will the administrative record be used in court, and how will contested issues be handled? HB 1343 points fathers toward court for custody and parenting time after legitimation, but it does not address how court actors should treat the administrative legitimation record. What weight does it carry? What happens when a mother disputes the legitimacy of the administrative process? Without clarity, we risk creating a new wave of contested cases where families end up litigating the administrative process itself.

5. Handle the intersection with child support with great care.
Using child support systems as part of the pathway may appear efficient, but it can also reinforce distrust if fathers experience it as “you enter through enforcement to be recognized as a parent.” That framing can discourage participation, increase conflict, and deepen the emotional divide between responsibility and belonging. Georgia must be intentional in separating fatherhood recognition from enforcement posture, even while ensuring financial responsibility remains clear.

6. Define the standards for effective communication and education.
Education at the hospital is a strong idea, but effectiveness must be defined, not assumed. A pamphlet and a video can be powerful, or they can be a box-check. Language access, literacy levels, accessibility for parents with disabilities, cultural competence, and follow-up must be part of the plan. If the state says education is the solution, then it must ensure education is delivered in a way that actually educates. This includes creation of a plain-language statewide guide that explains paternity, legitimation, custody, parenting time, and child support as distinct concepts, with step-by-step pathways for families.

7. Be intentional with data collection and oversight.
Reporting requirements and legislative oversight must be written into implementation of HB 1343. Who is the authority responsible for quality control, training, consistency, and reporting? How will outcomes be tracked? How many petitions are granted and denied — and why? Are denials disproportionately affecting certain communities? What’s the impact on court filings? What is the impact on parenting time outcomes? Without data and oversight, we are not reforming; we are experimenting on families.

Those seven gaps do not mean we throw the bill away. They mean we do what responsible policymakers do. We tighten the language now so children and families don’t pay later.

How HB 1343 and SB 404 Work Together

Now, let’s place HB 1343 beside SB 404, because Georgia families will experience them together, not separately.

SB 404 seeks to set a new starting point in custody matters by establishing a presumption of joint legal and physical custody, with equal parenting time, when it is in the child’s best interests and when safety concerns do not require another approach. Many fathers have fought for this for years. Many mothers have supported it too, especially those who want a stable co-parenting structure rather than a tug-of-war. When implemented with safeguards and with an honest view of family complexity, shared parenting can reduce litigation, reduce conflict, and improve outcomes for children.

HB 1343 is about the front end of the pipeline: who becomes a legal father and how quickly. SB 404 concerns what courts do when parenting time and custody are in dispute. Together, they can create a more coherent system, but together they can also create a new set of unintended pressures.

The Strength of the SB 404 / HB 1343 Combination
If more unmarried fathers can establish legal standing earlier, more children may have earlier access to two engaged parents, and more families may be able to set stable schedules earlier. This is real. This matters.

The Risk of the SB 404 / HB 1343 Combination
If the state makes administrative legitimation faster while also setting a strong shared-parenting presumption, families could be pushed into high-stakes custody fights sooner, especially where relationships are unstable or unsafe. The perception may become, “Legitimate quickly, then equal time is coming.” That perception alone will drive behavior. It will drive filings. It will drive conflict. It will also create fear for some mothers, who may interpret the reforms as an automatic transfer of power rather than a child-centered recalibration.

Georgia must not allow confusion when these policies are intended to prevent it.

That is why FI is calling for aligned amendments and aligned public education around both bills — so no father is left behind and no family is misled.

The Fatherhood Work That Must Accompany Policy Reform

There’s another piece Georgia cannot ignore, and it is the piece that often disappears in legislative debate. Law is a barrier, but it’s not the only barrier.

Even the best bills will fail families if the state does not also build a supportive ecosystem around fathers and co-parents. That ecosystem includes navigation assistance, mediation access, responsible fatherhood programs, parenting classes, conflict coaching, employment supports, mental health support, and culturally competent, father-inclusive services that treat men as more than case numbers. This is not a soft add-on. It is the difference between a court order and a workable pathway.

We have seen what happens when you hand a father a legal obligation without helping him build the capacity to meet it. We have also seen what happens when you hand a father a legal right without helping him build the skills to use it well. The child gets caught in the middle either way.

So yes, Georgia should reform legitimation. Yes, Georgia should modernize custody frameworks. Yes, Georgia should aim for a fair playing field in parenting time and responsibility. And… Georgia must do it with precision.

The moment we are in right now is bigger than two bills. This is a pivot point in the history of responsible fatherhood work. Across the country, legislatures are wrestling with the same questions Georgia is facing: how to recognize fathers, how to protect families, how to promote shared parenting when appropriate, how to reduce litigation, how to modernize child support policies, how to prevent harm, and how to keep children at the center instead of turning them into trophies in adult conflict.

Getting this close to right is the assignment.

We can’t afford to throw water onto the floor with the hope that someday we will clean it all up. Children will slip while we argue over mop buckets. Georgia’s lawmakers have an opportunity to model what it looks like to legislate with courage and care, urgency and restraint, vision and detail.

FI stands ready to help. Not as critics shouting from the sidelines, but as practitioners who know what happens after the press release. We know the fathers who will try to use these pathways. We know the co-parents who will be impacted by them. We know the confusion that can erupt when language is not plain, when time windows are not humane, when the process is not transparent, and when accountability is not built in.

Support the movement. Support the conversation. Support the intent. Then do the responsible thing and amend the language so the reform is not a headline today and a lawsuit tomorrow.

Georgia can build a system where responsible fatherhood is not just a slogan, but a structure that works for as many families as possible, in real-life situations where children are protected and included at every step.

by Kenneth Braswell; CEO, Fathers Incorporated

You ever notice how many times the likeness of fathers appear in the 30+ year old rap game? Hip Hop has seen the likes of everybody from Father MC, Big Poppa, Big Daddy Kane and even 8 Mile’s Poppa Doc. No one can dismiss the impact of fatherlessness as it finds it’s way into the expression of young male rappers.

Each reference of their fathers causes a pause in their work; almost like a short station identification break. It quickly speaks to the undeniable challenge of navigating the adult course of their lives by taking a quick stop to address the dysfunction created by a man they can’t fully digest. Yet somehow the imagery of his presence or lack thereof, continues to find its way into the conscience thought of these talented artists.

In 1991 John Singleton began to write the story of fatherlessness on the wall of “Boyz N the Hood.” The cinematic presentation shared a snapshot of life in the community of Compton, California. Over the year’s we have learned that the depiction was much more than that. In fact a prophesy of fatherless communities in urban cites across the nation. What started out just to be a Rapper’s Delight (Sugarhill Gang) has progressively turned into a Thugs Mansion (Tupac) and Gangster’s Paradise (Coolio).

Today more than 73% of today’s African American babies are born into single parent, out of wedlock households. This statistical tapestry paints the same reality as Boyz N the Hood, Menace to Society, New Jersey Drive, Notorious, 8 Mile; etc.; one that painfully exposes the impact on communities when positive male role models are out of place. It reminds me of the National Geographic Society story of South African bull elephants at Pilanesburg National Park.

(http://articles.latimes.com/1998/sep/18/news/mn-24037).

The story speaks to the situation of teenaged bull elephants gone wild after being separated from the larger males. They learned that without mentoring of the bigger males elephants; the younger bull elephants became a menace to the community by becoming a danger to themselves. As a result the young elephants began killing rhinos and threatening the local community.

In communities across American where dropout rates are high; teenaged pregnancy is rampant, unemployment is devastating and fatherlessness is overwhelming; our communities react and the creative arts culture continues to find a way to respond. For evidence of its expression you need only to look at early forms of hip hop culture, to include fashion, graffiti and dancing.

In addition to the pain of fatherlessness finding its way into rap lyrics; the joy of fatherhood is also beginning to emerge. Who could forget, “Just The Two of Us,” by Will Smith or the riveting fatherhood scene in The Fresh Prince of Bel-air. Out of Smith’s own struggle to identify a path created by his dad, he still found a way to transform the lack of having a father in his life into a expression of ensuring his relevance in the life of his own children. Many other rap artist have found ways to express their transformation including Jay-Z (Glory), Nas (Daughters) and Tray Chaney (Fatherhood).

However, lets not limit ourselves to hearing the message just in the music and cinema of Hip Hop. The media is dotted with images of the Hip Hop generation. We’ve seen the custody stories of NBA Star Dwayne Wade, Usher, Halle Barry, Flavor Flav and countless others. Recently we’ve seen the buzz around the USA Olympian Gabby Douglas and the involvement of her dad, as well as the reuniting of former NBA player Dennis Rodman and his dad after 43 years.

For years we’ve been told that music tells the story of a generation. So, what is Hip Hop saying about this generation of family; particularly fathers?

The answer is not hard to find. Its shows up in our nightly news, daily newspapers and in countless obituaries every day. It’s seen in our statistics, heard in our music, written in our poetry and preformed on the public stage of life. The impact of fatherlessness is not a secret, nor is it hiding. Its in plain view for all to see. The bigger question; are we will do anything about it or continue to view it as part of the art form?

Top Ten Hardest Hitting Fatherhood Hip-Hop Lyrics

1.

I was a baby, maybe I was just a couple of months

My fa##ot father must have had his panties up in a bunch

Cause he split, I wonder if he even kissed me goodbye

No I don’t, on second thought I just f**kin wished he would die

Eminem – ”Cleanin Out My Closet”

2.

You ain’t no pops to me; you just some nigga sippin on tea

Moms don’t want your money, so run and flee

Back all hunch over cause you gotta admit

I don’t need you in my life, cause you ain’t s**t

Notorious BIG – Movie “Notorious”

3.

No love from my daddy cause the coward wasn’t there

He passed away and I didn’t cry, cause my anger

wouldn’t let me feel for a stranger

They say I’m wrong and I’m heartless, but all along

I was lookin for a father he was gone

Tupac – Dear Mama

4.

My pops said, “You think that you could leave me?”

He blasted my moms in the back

She fell down screamin I can’t forget that

LL Cool J – “Father”

5.

Group homes & institutions, prepare my ass for jail

They put me in a situation forcin’ me to be a man

When I was just learnin’ to stand without a helpin’ hand

Damn, was it my fault, somethin’ I did

To make a father leave his first kid at 7 doin’ my first bid?

DMX – “Slippin”

6.

I would say “my daddy loves me and he’ll never go away”

bullshit, do you even remember December’s my birthday?

do you even remember the tender boy

you turned into a cold young man

Jay-Z – “Where Have You Been”

7.

Biological father, left me in the cold, when a few months old

Aa father’s child was greater than gold but I guess not

You brought me into the world but your not my dad

Mess around with those drugs makes my moms mad

So we left you with no remorsal pity

Shaquille O’ Neal – “Biological Didn’t Bother”

8.

And my father living in Memphis now he can’t come this way

Over some minor charges and child support that just wasn’t paid

Damn, boo-hoo, sad story, black American dad story

Drake – “Look What You’ve Done”

9.

up all I wanted was a father figure

Me & mom alone every dinner.

One day I hope you hear this I pray you doin better.

This what it sound like if I sent my dad letters.

Tyga – “Dad’s Letter”

10.

Seem like I got everything Only thing I’m really missin is my father mane

Never told me son have a good day in school Never came to my games

he too busy sippin bulls Got 3 kids can’t take care na one of em

dead beat said he would I can’t be one of em

Bow Wow – “Father’s Day”