The story of Father’s Day has resonated throughout my life ever since the day I first encountered it.
Here’s the story: I was born on Father’s Day, June 20th. I was the first boy in my family and was named after my father to make it clear that I was his son. He was a Father’s Day gift in 1953. It also meant that I was born into life as Donald Wells Jr. with many high expectations that still shape me all these years later.
Donald Wells Sr. was and is my father, my undeniable and unwavering father.
He was also a father to my five siblings, cousins, friends, and all the neighborhood kids who met him and were welcomed into the Wells family circle. Everyone was welcome, no one was ignored, and his high expectations of all of us seemed to go just a little beyond what we thought we could reach.
When I was growing up, limited opportunities and expectations for black children were the norm in our country and enforced by law in my hometown of St. Louis. My father’s response was to prepare us for the realities we faced in the world, to counter stories of our limitations with stories of achievement that inspire us to realize our full potential, and to create strong, dependable communities that believed in, supported, and celebrated us at every milestone we achieved.
My father did what all fathers are expected to do: He prepared us, he challenged us, he empowered us, and he showed up for us.
It might seem like having such a clear, positive role model as a father would lead me to follow in his footsteps and have a family of my own. But although I had mentors and coaches, I never felt the urge to have and raise children myself. Perhaps I chose that as my defining difference, lest I become merely a carbon copy of the man I looked up to in so many ways.
I, Donald Wells Jr., had no children.
Then I met Belen. She was 8 years old when my wife and I became her mentors. Just a few months later, she was placed in foster care in San Diego. Not for the first time, but a change was beginning to take place. I decided to do for her what my father had done for me: to show up.
I managed to stay in her life, first as an emergency foster parent, then as an advocate for her educational rights, and always as a consistent mentor. One day, after three years of dating, while watching her favorite movie for the tenth time together, Belén asked me a simple question: “Why are you still here?”
I had never asked my father that question, and in that moment I thought to myself, “There’s no need for young people to do that.”
Your children should always have someone they can count on. Someone to prepare them for life. Someone to challenge them to dream. Someone to inspire them to be their best self. Someone to show up.
That moment led me to Just in Time for Foster Youth in San Diego, a nonprofit that helps 3,000 young people transition out of the child welfare system after turning 18, providing them with the critical resources and vital relationships they need to become more confident, empowered and connected.
Now I understand the deeper meaning of my father’s legacy: to be intentional fathers to every young man we encounter. To prepare. To lead. To challenge. To coach. To empower.
This Father’s Day, let’s show dad we care. Find nonprofits, contact schools, look for sports leagues, visit local community centers.
In 2022, my wife and I adopted our daughter, Belén, at age 31. I am my father’s son and now a father to many.
In the end, it doesn’t matter if you find out I was born the day before Father’s Day.
Don Wells is the chief empowerment officer for Just in Time for Foster Youth, a nonprofit that supports young people who turn 18 and leave the foster care system without a safety net or family to help them transition to adulthood.
