Abstract

Most of us know that poor African American men have long been perceived as neglectful absent fathers with little interest in their children. Since the late 1990s, scholars have published evidence to the contrary, demonstrating that fatherhood among the poor and working class occurs along a continuum. Some men are completely absent, while others care daily for their children. Regardless, many express initial excitement about parenting and love for their children, but face insurmountable challenges to the economic support they are expected to provide. Consequently, and most significantly, research tells us these fathers have turned the meaning of fatherhood on its head, emphasizing emotional support to their children (e.g., being present, offering guidance and discipline) as their most critical role, rather than regular financial maintenance. Thus, fatherhood studies suggest that the meaning of fatherhood from the view of low-income fathers has been reimagined to reflect what their economic circumstances enable them to do best.
Doing the Best I Can is another installment in a well-developed scholarship on fatherhood from the view of men and, in particular, unemployed and low-income fathers who bear the brunt of public disdain. The authors set out to learn the meaning of fatherhood from an equal number of 110 white and black fathers who, ranging in age from 17 to 64, reside in Pennsylvania’s Camden/Philadelphia metropolitan area. They are mostly poor, not married to the mothers of their children, and struggle with everyday self-maintenance, drug addiction, and criminal involvement.
This well-organized work offers convincing narratives in which men describe how they came to know the mothers of their children; recall feelings associated with pregnancies and new fatherhood; and discuss their decision making and behaviors since. Edin and Nelson find that fathers “seldom deliberately choose whom to have a child with; instead ‘one thing leads to another’ and a baby is born” (p. 17). To the seeming surprise of the authors, most fathers received the news of impending parenthood with considerable happiness, though many also experienced anxiety. These findings offer more evidence of what Edin and Nelson refer to as the New Package Deal. The authors explain that in the past, “American men were partners—usually husbands—first and parents second. Fatherhood was a package deal. And it was the tie with the mother that bound men to their obligations to children, obligations they might otherwise have ignored” (p. 86). But for men in this study, the mothers of their children seem only to supplement the father–child bond. One of the few mothers who participated confided, “I see the way he looks at his son. I wish he would look at me that way some time” (p. 77).
Detailed narratives reveal that these men describe a “flipped” definition of fatherhood that underscores emotional rather than economic provisions of support. “These disadvantaged dads,” the authors note, “recoil at the notion that they are just a paycheck—they insist that their role is to ‘be there’: to show love and spend quality time” (p. 18). But perhaps somewhat different from earlier findings, these men leave everything else—discipline, moral guidance, and financial support—to the mostly poor mothers of their children. Nonetheless, like scholars before, Edin and Nelson generally find that these men are not the stereotypical deadbeat caricature that media and policy makers portray.
Curiously, Edin and Nelson assert that studies of families “have offered the American public a wealth of knowledge about the lives of the mothers and their progeny, yet they have told us next to nothing about the fathers of these children” (p. 5). This was certainly the case when their study began more than 10 years ago, but is hardly so today. Such an assertion gives policymakers an excuse for not addressing the relationship between poverty and the challenges it creates for poor parents.
Despite men’s detailed narratives, the authors explicitly chose not to “engage with the rich literature on father involvement,” instead directing readers to endnotes. This is disappointing because the potential strength of these narratives lay in the carefully researched body of work on fatherhood, its history, meaning, and men’s involvement. As a strength, this makes for an accessible read for multiple audiences across the academic, trade, and policy-maker spectrum. Yet, electing to mention, but not actually engage, previous scholarship diminishes the book’s chances of more clearly marking its actual contributions to the existing literature. The authors further contend their method of soliciting the participation of poor fathers (they are a challenging population to recruit) was “unconventional,” but experienced ethnographers may raise legitimate questions about this claim as well as the author’s practice of ethnography more broadly. Neither Edin and Nelson’s theses, nor their methods, fully acknowledge the intellectual debts on which they are founded. I am left wanting with regard to the meanings of fatherhood and how they might have potentially better informed policy that could matter for poor fathers and families. Nonetheless, Edin and Nelson affirm that as long as issues of unemployment, low wages, and low skills persist, poor fathers will continue only to do the best they can.
