My father is an odd fellow, one not reflected in most Father’s Day cards. He rarely watches sports, would never buy a sports car, hates golf due to working as a caddy in his teens, and doesn’t wear ties. While he loves his tools and is constantly reconstructing our family home, it’s not because of any need to display masculinity. He does it because he worships my mother and wants her to have anything he can create. It’s a bit of selflessness that is rarely reflected in mainstream media, and appreciated or expected of men – especially towards their partners and the world around them.
My father was born with many privileges – a cisgender straight white man, born and raised in Minnesota to a large lower-middle class Catholic family. A man who dropped out of high school because he didn’t like what the nuns were teaching, but went on to put himself through college, receive a Master’s degree, and finish nursing school. He’s smart, thoughtful, and caring. And while he has a lot of privileges in life, he has taught me the one lesson I hold dearest – how to be a great ally.