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My Daughter's Father

My Daughter's Father is a unique perspective on the challenges of parenting from a seldom-told vantage point: The single dad. Sam, a 33-year-old journalist, will write about the joy and heartache of loving and raising — and sharing — the most precious part of his life, Maddie. This candid essay about the anxiety of knowing that every decision helps mold his child into the woman she will become comes from a father who has grudgingly acknowledged that, no matter how hard we try, we parents will never have it all figured out.

Sharing history with Maddie

It's an amazing time to be an American and the father of a young child.

As a journalist, I have an insatiable appetite for information and spend copious amounts of time consuming it. What's worse, I'm a big time politics junkie. I can't begin to imagine how much time I devoted to the election, both in following it and being a part of it. And I've relished every minute.

The best part, though, has been bringing Maddie into it, explaining to her why this is such a big deal and helping her understand why democracy is such a vital part of our great country.

It has been difficult. A couple of weeks ago, I decided to try to explain why the possibility of a black man becoming president was such a transformative concept for the U.S., given our history of slavery and segregation.

We were driving home (in the Jeep, go figure) when I started into the conversation, and I quickly found myself stumbling. I couldn't figure out how to describe slavery so a 7-year-old would comprehend. And, more importantly, I started to worry about how she'd react. Maddie's an incredibly sensitive girl, and I felt it would be hurtful and upsetting to her. So, I stopped.

I spoke with my brother last week and explained my conundrum. He, having recently married a woman whose son is just a couple months older than Maddie, had the same discussion with him recently. He had explained that there was a time when blacks were forced to work for whites, but they didn't get paid. "That sucks" was the boy's response. Quick and easy, and he got it … essentially.

A day to remember 

We have early voting here in Indiana, so I took Maddie with me to vote the Saturday before the election. The line was about and hour and a half, but I brought my laptop and she watched Ratatouille with another little girl while we waited.

It was a great moment. I took Maddie in the booth with me and showed her how the machine worked; we selected our candidates, and she pushed the red button to cast our ballot. She seemed pretty excited about it, and I hope it's a day that stays with her forever.

Detailing our country's at-times sordid past can wait for another day. For now, I'm just thrilled that Maddie will grow up having no idea why a black president is out of the ordinary.

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