It’s Father’s Day.  I’m a father.  Of course that means I have a child.  Actually I have two of those. I tend to kiss off holidays I am directly involved in, like birthdays and Father’s Day, and I prefer no one make a big fuss about them.  Actually that’s generally true for any holiday.  There used to be some benefit to some of those holidays, like if it meant I got that particular day off from work.  But now that I am retired, every day is a holiday.  It’s great, but no holiday stands out in particular.  However, I kind of sit around a lot and think about stuff, and today I started thinking about Father’s Day.  And fathers.  And unfortunately we are right in the middle of this bazaar political season so I couldn’t help thinking about Donald Trump.  Do you think he would be considered a good father?  I know he would consider himself to be a good father.  But how about you?  He supposedly has a boat load of money, but you know what they say.  Sure, money is all and everything to Donald Trump, but I think most of us with little need for garish ostentation find other things just as rewarding and more important to pass along to our children.

My father was a  member of the “Greatest Generation,” a World War Two veteran, and solidly middle class.  And he was a bigot, as was my wife’s father, and I imagine most fathers of that time.  My dad was not an out and out racist by any means, but use of the “n” word was not an uncommon occurrence for him.  That I know of he never used the word in a directly derogatory way.  It’s just the manner he assimilated his thinking in time and place, which is ironic in a way, since he was raised on a farm in Iowa, and then lived most of his adult life in a state with even fewer African Americans.  I don’t believe there are too many geographically defined areas that are less racially diverse than Wyoming.  So I grew up in that ethnically deprived environment, with an isolated view of the the world.  Even the nuns in the Catholic grade school I attended revealed some fringe ingraining of racism, like suggesting interracial marriage was frowned upon by God.  Then I went to college, Creighton University, Omaha Nebraska, and have lived here ever since.

College life was a racially enlightening experience for me, and a progressive one.  When I was a freshman, I think you would have to say for a short time my bigotry was even worse than my father’s.  I directly encountered black people for the fist time, and the friends I hung out with came from family backgrounds very similar to mine.  Denigrating minorities was a part of social conformity, and is also a part of my life I am shamefully embarrassed about.  But it was not much longer, about my junior year in pharmacy school, that my views, impressions, and understanding of ethnicity veered dramatically.  It was a turbulent time.  Lots of protests, demonstrations, riots, and destruction and- hate.  The hate was palpable and I saw it first hand when the heart of Omaha’s black community went up in flames in 1969.  The tempestuous episodes of the late 60’s changed me, and for the better.  I felt there had to be a way to eliminate all the hate, or at the very least deal with it and deflect it.

I thought we were making progress as time went on.  Not too long ago it seemed to me racial tension had reached its zenith about the time of my personal character adjustment.  But lately you can’t help but feel we are slowly sliding backwards, and I am beginning to wonder if we will ever be free of bigotry’s contemptible grip.

But then I look at my kids, both now adults.  They are notably representative of their generation, one much more open-minded and tolerant.  I can’t speak for all of us baby boomers, but I think as a group we can take some credit for that.  I know my wife and I are fairly confident that as parents we conducted our lives in a manner that was respectful of everyone, that we divested ourselves from the careless, insensitive and bigoted innuendo of our fathers.  It may take yet another generation removed from my children before we see significant progress once again.  The present political climate here and around the world is so infested with hate that it is obvious it will take a lot of work. And this concern involves race, culture, religion, sexual orientation, you name it.  The Southern Poverty Law Center has identified 784 active hate groups in the United States, which includes 72 Klu Klux Klan and 142 Neo-Natzi groups.  You will likely see the same type of statistics in Europe.  But there is hope- your kids and mine.  They understand better than my generation that with all the world-wide connectivity, all of humankind is in this fight for common dignity and respect.  We are in it together.  We have to grapple with the fact that life now is not so much about you and me as it is about us.

As a father I am very proud of my kids.  All the diaper changes and worries about health issues, putting up with all the teen-age angst and vehicular destruction, all the wondering if they would survive college or ever be able to live on their own-  it all paid off.  It paid off because I know they were really good kids who developed into exceptionally caring, responsible adults.  If there is one thought that encapsulates what I expect from my children, it is that they always show respect for everyone and have a deep appreciation for the natural world.  I can see in them that I have accomplished that.  To all you fathers out there, if you recognize this in your own children, then you too should consider yourself successful and a good father.  This Father’s Day, what I wonder about Donald Trump is this:  can he honestly say that same thing?  Happy Father’s Day!