In the never ending journey (and why would I want it to end?) to give substance and form to the essence of what a dirtbag dad is, I came across these words attributed to Margaret Mead. Even though they are expressed in a language prevalent around 50 years ago, they still ring true today.
Perhaps, as a young boy in the days that Mead uttered this thought, a seed was planted that became the tree I am today. Still a work in progress, but a good work, well worth continuing to explore and refine:
The male form of a female liberationist is a male liberationist—a man who realizes the unfairness of having to work all his life to support a wife and children so that someday his widow may live in comfort, a man who points out that commuting to a job he doesn't like is just as oppressive as his wife's imprisonment in a suburb, a man who rejects his exclusion, by society and most women, from participation in childbirth and the most engrossing, delightful care of young children—a man, in fact, who wants to relate himself to people and the world around him as a person.
Part of the Dirtbag Dad origin story series.