Sleeping black father and daughter

Black Fatherhood, pt. II

In addition to my initial post, there are many that view not having a child as an accomplishment. As a badge of honor. As not being part of some “statistic.” Childbirth is condemned. In fact, several would rather abort the fruit of their womb than deal with the shame incurred from society. I have argued with feminists extensively on this matter. Majority of them resort to a myriad of readied obtuse rationalizations in regards to when the child is considered a human or they repeat ad nauseam the many excuses as to why women decide to have abortions (i.e. financial instability, an indifferent or reluctant father, deflated ego(s) of mom/dad, wasn’t the sex they were hoping for, “not the right time,” or simply because it is “their body”).

To question any of these reasons is akin to blasphemy according to feminists and the liberal left. You are automatically labeled a misogynist chauvinist pig for wanting your women to be much more considerate of life. Considering that black women are 5 times more likely to terminate their pregnancy, I think my concerns are legitimate. Especially when a large segment of our population is killed and imprisoned at highly disproportionate rates by law enforcement as standard operating procedure with little to no consequences.

Some have even adamantly asserted that children become human once they are birthed. As laughable as that is, people sincerely believe this. Such rationalization is nothing more than cognitive bias to justify their selfishness. 

Much to my dismay, I have been told of a few instances where the mother had aborted a child simply because they were holding grudges against the father. Killing a child to get back at a man for some marginal issue is not only trifling. It is fucking sick. 

“The Negro cannot win if he is willing to sacrifice the futures of his children for immediate personal comfort and safety. How can the “Dream” survive if we murder the children? Every aborted baby is like a slave in the womb of his or her mother. The mother decides his or her fate.” – Martin Luther King Jr. 

My moral compass IS NOT driven by religious zeal or political affiliation. My moral integrity is that of my own, forged from my cultural experiences.

With that being said, I am not dogmatic regarding the issue of abortion. I can understand the cognitive dissonance that can accompany being pregnant; especially if the conception is a product of rape. To be concise however, I do agree with abortion in certain situations. For example, if there are serious health complications with either the child or the mother that would result in death for either or both, I would consider it appropriate. But to murder a child (let’s call it what it is) because you don’t want to take care of it is definitively ludicrous. There are a lot of people I don’t necessarily enjoy looking at or want to be around, but I don’t bash their skulls in and throw them away because of.

Futhermore, what I find even more egregious is how women can kill children at will with impunity. However, the moment a man decides that he doesn’t want to take care of a child he is deemed a deadbeat and consequently hunted by the state for child support. Don’t get me wrong, I do not condone a man stepping away from his responsibilities as a father. What I am stating is that there should be no double standard here. In addition to garnished wages, even those fathers who are not financially able to support their children in the child support system suffer as they are routinely rounded up into the prison industrial complex for not being able to pay.

“So-called “black leaders” praise this health “disparity” as an empowering choice. There’s nothing empowering about an industry targeting the most historically dehumanized segment of the population with death.”

Now, I do concur with the sentiment that having a child should be planned. However, with that in mind, things rarely go as drawn up. Many people have wound up pregnant even while taking preventative measures. I for one, have had this happen to me. Unfortunately, those instances for me resulted in miscarriage. This, among other reasons, is why I oppose birth control. In my opinion, it is ineffective; and from what I have observed in the masses of teenage girls and young women, it wreaks havoc upon their physical form. A better, more safer option would be to exercise discipline; whether that be practicing abstinence, blowing stacks on prophylactics, or the infamous pull-out method if thine game be strong.

In conclusion, no matter how much my child’s mother and I disagreed with one another, no matter how much she hated my guts, no matter how little we had, I never suggested terminating Aden. And I applaud her moreso for her courage and resilience in handling such a stressful predicament and bringing our baby into this world with a smile on her face.

Another thing that bores me through is how can we have the audacity to scream #blacklivesmatter, yet are damn ‘nere silent about the mass murder of hundred thousands of black children yearly. Our silence is complicity and propagation of black genocide. 

Psalms 127:3 – “Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward.” – KJV

Abortion Statistics

So when you have the exaltation of the autonomous self. “What I want matters most! What I desire matters most! Forget sacrifice! Forget hurting! Forget the long road! I want what I want and when that collides in a society that says throw it away and get a new one. You get abortion on demand…” – Matt Chandler


Black Fatherhood.


11:13 A.M.

My firstborn son, Aden (handsome) Omari (Swahili for firstborn; God, the Highest) Rogers made his inception into this chaotic oblate spheroid we call home. 5 lbs, 13 oz.

As of this post, he is nearing the 2 month mark. I finally got to see him in person this past Monday. The feeling is unreal. Euphoric in many ways. I had originally longed for a daughter (I still do) but I would have it no other way. I stare into his large round brown eyes currently, pacifier in his mouth, nodding off to sleep without a disconcerting thought. Devoid of apprehension. Solaced by the loving hands of his mother.

I hold purpose in these arms.

I haven’t been this elated since childhood Christmas mornings …

As black people, regardless of sex, little is expected of us. The bar is set extremely low. As a black father, absolutely nothing is expected of us other than absence. The bar is virtually nonexistent. A generally held and purported falsehood in the world is that black fathers are absent from their children’s lives. We are blamed for the high level of illegitimacy almost exclusively disregarding the fact that white people have the highest illegitimacy rate. The stereotypical belief paints us in crude caricatures as undisciplined promiscuous dogs in heat that spill their gametes – without regard – into unsuspecting women after “running game” – subsequently leaving them to fend for themselves after we “cut them off.” While this has some merit, it is hardly ubiquitous. It is conjecture. It is an inductive fallacy. It serves as cognitive bias for white racists and black women that harbor hatred towards black men. In other words, not only is it wrong – it is wrong as fuck.

According to the CDC, black fathers are just as present as father’s of other races, if not more. But of course, the propaganda machine known as the American media would prefer to reinforce self-serving stereotypes in order to keep the dominant society comfortable in their delusions. As a black father, I am one of the many defying these stereotypes.

Still further, there is a stigma regarding having children while young and out of wedlock. I will be 21 in July. Aden’s mother will be 22 in December. Most of this disdain comes from professing Christians. While they view the birth of a child as a “blessing,” it is in the same breath frowned upon. Yet, by the same token, they will adamantly claim that everything is “God’s Will.” It is never either or. It is always a conflicting contradicting self-serving response. I am no stranger to the self-righteous sort, so this comes of no surprise.

In addition to incurring judgment from others, having children is also frowned upon because of the perceived fear of rearing a child in this dangerous world. Understandable, but to live by such mantra is to be shackled and completely submissive to the whims of whatever the status quo deems ideal. I find that most people are reluctant to have children simply because they refuse to grow up and become responsible young adults. They are too embedded in daily hedonism. They refuse to prioritize accordingly, and would rather put it off until they “establish” themselves according to white standards. Many of these people have an external locus of control, and constantly seek excuses for why they can’t do something. In other words, they place their autonomy and fate into the hands of tentative and often arbitrary variables.

Foolish, to say the least, but I understand that most are not critical thinkers. They comply seemingly wholeheartedly with the status quo. They desire to belong. They fear being ostracized. Ridiculed. Demonized.

Despite the negativity behind having a child young, I have no regrets. I was able to create a life unblemished. I was able to create a legacy. I will continue to defy stereotypes. I will raise him to be much better than I ever was. Teach him things that I wish I would have known growing up. Give him the childhood I barely had. In short, be a loving black father.

Musings From Babylon

I suppose this shall be introductory. I lie here, 3:03 in the wee hours of Thursday morning pounding the keys of my notebook listlessly. Not the late morning I had envisioned, but apropos nonetheless.

I say this because I have put off blogging seriously for a long while. Years even. Considering how much I contemplate and ponder, I needed a conduit in which to pour my musings. I figured, “Why not WordPress?”

Abagond inspired me to venture into the blogging scene. I have been reading his work religiously since I discovered him late last year. The first post I read was entitled The three pillars of American white supremacy.

I had blogged several times before in the past, but the permanence of past endeavors were ephemeral to say the least. Aside from microblogging on Facebook and occasionally tweeting random shit, Tumblr was my stomping ground. It was cathartic. It was a wasteland of adolescent angst. I would soon retire, however. I grew older, what can I say. Along with increasing physical age, I grew wiser. I developed post-conventional morality according to Lawrence Kohlberg’s theory. I developed a fond interest in philosophy and psychology and subsequently began to understand the inner workings of the mind and the macrocosm of the world as we know it.

I became – “conscious.”

Indubitably so, I seek to actively learn each day. Whether that be through independent study or through social interaction and observation. I incessantly strive to expand the dimensions of my frame of reference.

I know some may be wondering – why Babylon? Well, I borrowed the term from Rastafarianism. No, I am not a Rasta, but I subscribe to quite a few of their beliefs. I happen to be a fan of the nu-metal band P.O.D. who routinely reference Babylon in their lyrics. I recorded a song titled the same.

Babylon simply represents the western world and its contemptible culture of white hegemony. It’s centuries of downplayed imperialist aggression. It’s centuries of scandal and disenfranchisement. It’s centuries of denying human rights to those who served as the thoroughbred workhorses of this country and continue to as our physical shells disproportionately fuel the prison industrial complex.

From Babylon, with love ….