Sunday, late afternoon into twilight, balmy and beautiful. Adam and I joined in with a group of dads and sons to commandeer a few park benches at our local playground, share some eats, and do the most unlikely thing for that setting and time. Care to guess?
We held a book club session to discuss a dandy children’s book called Because of Mr. Terupt. The boys in the group are friends from school or sports, and the dads are parent acquaintances. The father-son book club has met most months for two years, and this was Adam and my first time. The boys are in grades 4 and 5, and the book itself is about a 5th grade class that, basically, learns to be more friendly and kindly to each other—and to like school better—with the help of a new teacher named Mr. Terupt, who has a gift for understanding and bonding with children. The story is told in a series of brief first-person chapters, alternatively between all the main students in the story.
After eating dinner, the dads stood up and gathered around the boys’ table, like a kind of fence, I suppose. But I must say, the boys were willing participants. It was particularly gratifying to see my son speak up and contribute. Because he’s such a goofball at home, it’s sometimes hard to imagine him taking anything seriously. But, Adam and the other boys shared their opinions on such meaty topics as parent responsibility, dealing with bullying, and how to really get to know someone.
I enjoyed listening to the dads too. They took it seriously—and that made all the difference. One of the great themes in the book is how everyone has a story—and often we don’t really know what’s going on a person’s life that maybe be compelling them to act in a certain way. Listening to them, I felt I got to know all the boys and the dads a little better. But my favorite moment was not spoken—it was worn. We all live on the Upper East Side, though one dad had on a t-shirt that said “Gowanus Swim Club.” A born and raised Brooklynite myself, I loved the preposterous notion of people swimming in the sludge that won’t go away. The dad wearing the shirt mentioned that one of his joys as parent is to take his kids around the city and check out unfamiliar neighborhoods—and it was on an excursion in Red Hook that he found the tee. I had never taken this dad for an urban wayfarer, so I enjoyed learning that.
We don’t need a lot of research to know that boys benefit in a thousand ways when they have engaged dads and other committed male figures in their lives, (though here’s a good article if you’re interested, click HERE). With Father’s Day coming up, I want to salute the book group for committing to this unconventional, but so special, form of father-son bonding.
I still love my son to moon and back, as the baby classic goes, and in fact, before Sunday I don’t think we’ve really bonded so much over a book for years, maybe going as far back to when I used to use to read him to sleep with rendition on rendition of Guess How Much I Love You.
Eric Messinger is the editor of New York Family. He can be reached at [email protected].
