Sunday, January 11, 2015

30 Minutes of Cold Concrete

Acacia Morris


It’s a special day. It’s January 7th, 2003, and a young child is sitting on a ratty couch in a small apartment in Albany. The state of the couch or the size of the apartment isn’t of much importance, however; today is the child’s birthday, and something exciting is going to happen. The child’s mother enters the room with a telephone in hand, passing it over before slipping back into the other room with the much awaited birthday cake. After a few mewled hellos are murmured into the phone, a heavily accented voice comes from the speaker. The conversation is muddy and disorganized due to a simple fact; its participants are strangers. The voice in the phone says a goodbye, and the child hands the phone back to the mother without much ceremony. The smell of cake and a mother’s call are welcoming, but the six year old can’t help but feel lonely.
As statistics go, one in three doesn’t seem like a very lonely number. It’s nowhere near astronomical odds, and it makes pretty good television if you hide a prize behind that one. However, the statistic that applies to that one person out of three isn’t lucky, and it certainly is lonely. In the United States, one out of three children lives without their biological father. It’s sobering, I’m aware. To some, it may even seem ridiculous. To me, it seems just right, if not a bit understated. I have lived my entire life without my father. That small child was me, on my sixth birthday, experiencing the only direct contact I’ve ever had with him. I’ve glimpsed his face in a photograph or two, but as physical appearances go, he’s done as well as the invisible man.
It’s very easy to allow anger to come from these sorts of experiences. I’ve experienced many emotions over the years, and the majority of them have been negative. However, I feel as if there is room to grow from every experience, good or bad. If the statistic holds true, then one out of every three people reading this article doesn’t live with their biological father. This can be due to abandonment, military service, death, or simple absence. Whatever the case, I want to say something to the one in three.
If you have a father figure in your life, whether it is a step-father, an older brother, an uncle, or other individual, and they have positively impacted you, know that you are stronger for it. You have a role model, someone who stepped up in the life of someone else. If you don’t have someone like that, then know you are still stronger for it. Every achievement has come with just that extra amount of push that other people may have had that you don’t. These strengths don’t only reach into the realm of parenthood. Maybe you’ve learned to help out those who really need it, or you’ve learned to never give up.
As the holiday season comes to its climax, know that even if your family structure doesn’t match the one on the Hallmark Christmas card, that you are not poorer for it. If you are the one in three, think back on your accomplishments during the past year, and wonder about what you can do even better next year. For the two in three that I’ve neglected, know that nowadays, there is no familial norm. For all three people who read this article, know that a lesson can be learned from every experience, for better or for worse, and to always help others when you can.