The thing I worried most about before my son was born was how a man without a father could become a caregiver to an infant.
And I wouldn’t say that question was easy to resolve, but when he arrived and I held him, I knew right away that I wanted to stay home and raise him. I quit my full-time job and became his primary caregiver.
So I’m a parent now, but I’m still a very social guy, and it’s important to me that my son meets people. We go to play groups and sing-a-longs, but mostly we like to walk around and visit people we know. On these same walks, my son and I have also encountered folks who don’t know us. And man, have they said some crazy, painful, off-the-wall stuff.
What you need to know is I’m a tall, broad-shouldered black man in Vermont.
Apparently, these qualities combined with a tiny infant strapped to my belly � me kissing him, singing to him, dancing with him and watching every tiny movement � doesn’t compute for quite a few middle-aged, white, Vermont women.
The feedback has been constant from day one.
Everywhere I go and interact with new people, it ranges from mundane and silly to heartbreaking and cruel. I hear, “you’re so gentle with him, I can’t believe it�" "You’re giving mommy a break.�

These are the silly comments. Of course I’m gentle with him; he was just born and he’s mine. I’m not just spending time with him; I’m not just babysitting. Fatherhood requires me to be present for him at all times.
Of course, race comes into play. I get questions from “Were you a professional football player?� to “Were you in prison for felony murder?� and even, “Are you going to knock me down and take something from me?�
All this while I’m holding, diapering, feeding and loving my son.
The hardest part is that they’re assuming I’m my father: an absent, angry, disloyal, unkind, violent father.
And that’s just the point � society is conditioned to believe that fathers are not caregivers and that black men are not good fathers.
So the answer to the question about how a man without a father becomes a caregiver to his infant son is simple: I just do everything he didn’t do � and nothing that he did.
Marlon Fisher is a U.S. Army veteran, comedian and stay-at home dad in Burlington.