Don't call me a good dad. It's sexist

Another Father’s Day has passed – our annual celebration of all you great dads, spoiled only by news that we spend much less on presents for dads than mums (never mind, it’s not a competition) and those incessant calls for mums to be honoured on Father’s Day too because “they do both jobs” (the Mother’s/Father’s Day equivalent of “but when is International Men’s Day?”).

Most grating though is a resurgence over the past couple of weeks of the Twitter hashtag #Dadvice – a collection of tweets describing bonkers, unhelpful, or inappropriate nuggets of wisdom from dads.

It’s an image often forced upon dads: that the we’re the madcap, “fun” parent.

But isn’t this just the jolly façade of something deeper and more damaging? Isn’t it just a case of blatant sexism towards dads? Doesn’t it suggest that we’re somehow irresponsible? Or unable to parent like proper grown-ups?

Here’s another example. Last week, I was fetching the pram from the garage while trying to also carry a baby and control a five-year-old, when I ran into my neighbour. She looked shocked.

“Where’s your wife?” she asked. (I’m not married, but I let it slide.)

“At work.”

“And you do all this when she’s at work?! Such a good dad.”

She walked off, shaking her head in that “well now I’ve seen everything” sort of way.

It's not an isolated incident. Several weeks ago I was in the park – screaming baby in one hand while trying to steer a shopping bag-loaded pram with the other – when a woman shouted: “What a good dad you are… like a mum and a dad rolled into one!”

Their intentions were good natured. But I don’t want to be called a good dad if it’s based on the sexist misconception that dads are the lesser parent, unwilling or incapable of doing basic parental tasks without burning the house down or accidentally feeding them cat food.

Tom Fordy

Yes, I can take the kids to school. Yes, I can clothe them and cook. Yes, I can juggle (not literally) both kids at once. I’m a dad, I have to. It’s my most important job, lest my kids not get to school, roam the streets naked, or starve to a tantrumy death.

I know the stereotype comes from the reality of past generations. I can’t imagine either of my grandfathers doing the night feed, of course, or doing all the actions to Wheels on the Bus down the music and movement class at the local library on a Tuesday morning. But the image of the useless, emotionally-defective fathers is outdated, and should be cast into the fires of un-PC hell with other sexist stereotypes.

And who are all these awful dads to whom these shocked women seem to be comparing me? If you’re the kind of father who can’t look after the kids or handle a bit of poo on his finger, you’re way down on the evolutionary scale. Get a crash course on nappy duty and stay-and-play survival before you become extinct.

But the stereotype of the zany, incompetent dad is perpetuated constantly in the media. How many films are there about calamitous men who have to learn to parent the proper, grown-up way? On TV, we have terminal buffoons Homer Simpson and Daddy Pig – plus Phil Dunphy from Modern Family, whose only parenting ambition is to be like one of his son’s “idiot friends”.

And now social media offers an endless stream of “funniest dad” viral videos, as dads – hungry for their five minutes of internet fame, or trying to melt the internet’s heart with their cutesy parenting – share clips of their whacky antics.

Videos called things like “What dad gets up when he’s left alone with the baby” (Not “looking after”, but “left alone with”, as if dad’s an excitable dog) show dads dressing up their toddlers like Walter White, dancing on kitchen tables when they should be doing the washing up, putting fake beards on babies, plonking babies on remote control cars and other side-splitting stunts, and generally cocking things up.

I’m not those criticising dads for having fun with their kids – I do it myself – but as a stereotype within the social consciousness, it’s damaging to represent dads on these terms. The underlying implication is clear: mums are sensible and responsible; dads are little more than comic relief.

(My partner and other mum friends also resent being portrayed as the “serious one”, so it works both ways.)

It reinforces the idea that men are second-rate parents – and reveals a much deeper bias against dads in almost all issues of parenting.

In more serious examples, family courts still work on the presumption that mothers hold ownership of a child. In 2012, families headed by lone dads accounted for just 13.5 per cent of single parent families, meaning dads were less likely to get custody after divorce.

And while UK fathers now have the option of shared paternal leave, studies from last year found that only 1 per cent had applied so far, in part because the system makes it hard for dads to take their leave without making mums sacrificing theirs.

Yet, the importance of a father’s role in the family has never been more prevalent.

In 2014, there were a reported 229,000 stay-at-home dads in the UK – more than double the number recorded 20 years previously – yet there are 1 million children growing up in the UK without fathers, with links between fatherless kids and substance abuse and antisocial behaviour in later life.

Dads are so much more that the comic relief. And this isn’t an effort to prove that I’m a fantastic dad. In fact, most of the time I don’t feel like a very good dad at all. I’m impatient. I work too much. I put the TV on too often. I’d rather do Lego than homework. I’m rubbish at the outdoors stuff.

But isn’t that what really makes a good parent? The constant worry about whether you’re doing it right, that inherent desire to always do better, the awareness of yourself as a role model – and how everything you do impacts on your kids.

Getting them dressed, making dinner, doing the school run while one of them is screaming – that’s just the nuts and bolts stuff.

To assume that all dads can’t – or worse, won’t – undermines our importance. And until we represent both parents equally, and take dads seriously, there will always be an imbalance between the roles of mums and dads.

That’s the best #Dadvice I’ve got.