Lessons From My Father

I always wanted to see differently, and I always wanted a challenge — nothing easy. That comes from the strict discipline of my dad, who taught me that life is going to knock you down, but you keep getting up. For a long time, I thought my dad was just being mean, that he didn’t know how to show love the way I wanted it as a son. I didn’t realize that was his way of showing love — the same love that was shown to him as a child.

A lot of times, I catch myself exhibiting that same sternness toward my son before I even realize it. But when I do, I search myself, like I’m rereading a book or a script, to see what I can do better. Not to change the discipline — but to add to it, to show understanding as a father to a son. I remember, while living here in Detroit, I went to jail for possession of marijuana in Warren, and the police thought I was a drug dealer. They set my bond at a million dollars, like I was Frank Lucas moving kilos. I called my mom and dad, who were living in Alabama, and told them what happened. My dad said, “Well, you just sit in there and learn your lesson.” I eventually got out on probation, because it was my own personal stash — three dime bags. What I finally understand now is that this was its own kind of love: a father making his son accountable for his actions instead of protecting him from them, which would have done more harm than good.

Looking back now on my childhood — the chores, the whoopings with a leather belt that had no buckle and could wrap around my dad’s hand three times and still have length left over — I see it taught me to learn from my mistakes and focus on what I wanted to become in life. Don’t get me wrong, there are still distractions that echo from my past into this present day. But I’ve learned, with God’s help, how to take those distractions and turn them into a stepping stone for my purpose in life.