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{"id":120,"date":"2018-01-16T05:33:54","date_gmt":"2018-01-16T05:33:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/?page_id=120"},"modified":"2018-01-16T05:53:47","modified_gmt":"2018-01-16T05:53:47","slug":"my-father-and-i-so-i-run","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/my-father-and-i-so-i-run\/","title":{"rendered":"My Father and I (So I Run)"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/iframe><\/p>\nWe were more like motherless children, my father and I. At least, you wouldn’t know that he was my father by the way we spoke. Of course, he had all of the makings of a good black father: the stink eye and the fish fry, the black leather belt and the late night trips for ice cream and fresh donuts. But the growing struggle for power between my father and I would have had someone look twice at our lives. Indeed, I would often times feel and freely express to my pops that I had no father (a response influenced by all of the angsty white boys I hung out with). We would fight about that a lot.<\/p>\nI once evaded a whooping that I most rightly deserved; I was lucky to have done it right before Sunday nap time, a strategy that was irreplicable. I took off on down the dirt roads of Phelan on my electric Schwinn, dodging the hot air from my barking father and the dips in the desert sand, all of it fading into the background of my pastoral neighborhood at about 10 mph. When I returned, the doors were locked. I found an open window to sneak back into, but I never found a way back into the relationship we once had. I still romanticize the days before the incident in my head.<\/p>\nThe song \u201cSo I Run\u201d came from remembering this story and also finding myself in similar graces with the Christian G-d. I don’t know if I’d made him angry, but found myself quickly disengaging with him; I had tried with all my might to \u201cearn my crown\u201d with my actions and thoughts and found uncertainty that left me frozen in place until I began to run.<\/p>\nOne lesson that I learned and accepted from both relationships is that I will never be able to return to \u201cwhat it was\u201d. My relationship with my father has not been the same since I\u2019ve moved from adolescence to adulthood. This is for the better, I think. I began to abandon my old self, and my understanding of the only world I had seen until then. Now that I have challenged my understanding of this G-d and this father, I can\u2019t go back. And so, the struggle of power transformed into the struggle of place. I still long to have a relationship with my father(s), but now deeply yearn to understand what it means to foster those relationships. And so I cling to my fathers\u2019 families. I\u2019m not so good at practicing the sacraments but feel finally at peace when I do.<\/p>\nSo if you\u2019ve ever taken a leap of faith, and challenged all that you know to be true; if you\u2019ve ever tickled the sides of G-d or man until they or it crumbles at your fingertips, leaving you with more questions than answers, know that you\u2019re not alone. The pain that you feel in choosing to find the truth will only debilitate you if you look back, like Rachel in the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. May you be blessed in your rejection of the \u201ctruth\u201d in status quo, the \u201ctruth\u201d found only in conformity. May it lead you to an open window.<\/p>\nBelow are the lyrics to my song. My hope is that these words will serve you like my father served me fish fry and that you will be filled.<\/p>\nSo I Run<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\nUnabashedly, this bastard backs away \nAnd bends beneath the backs \nOf hands his father swings at him \nFor the millionth time, \nhe signs those papers of divorce \nInside his head \nThere\u2019s no remorse for what he\u2019s done.<\/em><\/p>\nThere\u2019s no denying all the demons \nThat lay beside him with the children \nHe\u2019s never wanted to respect<\/em><\/p>\nAnd yet their tongues of fire, \nThey keep brushing up against his sides \nAnd they keep tickling til he\u2019s blistering red \n\u201cIs it heavy?\u201d, someone asked.<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cWell, only if I look back \nAnd if I scratch at, will there be blood \nAnd only if I turn round, \nWill I be found out by the flood \nAnd so, I run.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nConsequentially, and much to his dismay, \nHe finds his father\u2019s footsteps \nFettered to the outside door \nWith a silent cry, \nhe walks around the desert sand \nTo find an entrance \nHe is desperate to get in<\/em><\/p>\nHe\u2019s well endowed with all the facts \nIt\u2019s made him proud, but now he\u2019s stuck \nWith an ambivalence inside<\/em><\/p>\nCause who knew all the crowns in this world \nWere bejeweled with doubt, \nAnd all the robes were red with foolish pride? \n\u201cWe\u2019re all dying, and so am I\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nAnd So I Run \nInto the arms of family \nLike a sacrament, I\u2019m reverent to their open hands \nI\u2019ve let their arms become my hiding place \nAnd father is an ugly word I\u2019ve used in exclusivity \nI seek to find escape from it \nAnd solace in his wife and children<\/em><\/p>\nWell, only if I look back \nAnd if I scratch at, will there be blood \nAnd only if I turn round, \nWill I be found out by the flood \nAnd so, I run<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"We were more like motherless children, my father and I. At least, you wouldn’t know that he was my father by the way we spoke. Of course, he had all of the makings of a good black father: the stink eye and the fish fry, the black leather belt and the late night trips for … <\/p>\n<a href=\"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/my-father-and-i-so-i-run\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading “My Father and I (So I Run)”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/120"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=120"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/120\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":137,"href":"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/120\/revisions\/137"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/derricksanderlin.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=120"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}