Knock, Knock is a 2 minute video of Daniel Beaty reciting Knock, Knock: “For the children of fathers who are locked down”:

As a boy, I shared a game with my father.  Played it every morning until I was three.  He would Knock knock on my door and I pretend to be asleep, until he got right next to the bed then  I would get up and  jump into his arms “good morning Poppa”  and my poppa– he would tell me that he loved me.  We shared a game—– “Knock knock”.  Until that day when the knock never came, and  my mom takes me on a ride past corn fields on this never ending highway— until we reached a place of high rusty gates.  A confused little boy I enter the building, carried in my momma arms— “Knock knock”We reach a room of windows and brown faces – behind one of the windows sits my father.  I jump out of my mommas arms and run notoriously toward my poppa —- only to be confronted by this window.

I knock knock trying to break thru the glass trying to get to my father—– I knock knock— as my mom pulls me away before my poppa  could even say one word

And for years he has never said a word—– And so 25 years later I write these words —-for the little boy in me who still awaits his father’s knock

Poppa come home because I miss you… Miss you waking me up in the morning telling me you love me

Poppa come home because there are some things I don’t know and I thought maybe you could teach me—

How to shave, how to dribble a ball, how to talk to a lady, how to walk like a man

Poppa come home because I decided awhile back I want to be just like you –– But I’m forgetting who you are

And 25 years later a little boy cries and so I write these words and try to heal and try to father myself—- and I dream up a father who says the words my father did not

Dear Son,   I’m sorry I never came home—-for every lesson I failed to teach—- hear these words:

Shave in one direction with strong deliberate strokes to avoid irritation

Dribble the page with the brilliance of your ball point pen

Walk like a GOD and your GODDESS will come to you

No longer will I be there to knock on your door, so you must learn to knock for yourself

Knock knock down doors of racism and poverty that I could not

Knock knock on doors of opportunity for the lost brilliance of the black men who crowd these cells

Knock knock with diligence for the sake of your children

Knock knock for me—— for as long as you are free these prison gates can not contain my spirit— the best of me still lives in you

Knock Knock with the knowledge that you are my son but you are not my choices

YES—- we are our father’s sons and daughters but we are not their choices

But despite their absence— we are still here—–still alive—-still breathing—with the power to change this world—one little boy and girl at a time

Knock, Knock who’s there?

WE ARE!

~ Daniel Beaty ###
end

“And 25 years later a little boy cries and so I write these words and try to heal and try to father myself—- and I dream up a father who says the words my father did not. “That’s one thing we can all do for ourselves: give ourselves the words, the inner dialogue, the pep talk, the cheerleading that we never got, or that we need now. Dream up this person who says the words you need to hear to motivate you to be who you know you can be.  Be that person for your friends as well.

Every morning as I lie in bed waking up, I am self-talking myself as though I am my most beloved.  I say the things I need to hear.  I love you and it makes me happy when you’re happy.  I’m so proud of you for all you’re doing.  You’re juggling work and play and finding a balance. You’re eating healthy foods, exercising and living a healthy lifestyle.  You accomplish more than you think you do.  You impact people’s lives more than you give yourself credit for.  You’re genuinely a good person who likes to help others, and in return they want to help you. That is part of my morning dialogue to myself.

Because, like everyone else, I can use some cheerleading, and I could use someone caring about my process.  And for the times no one is there, I’ve learned to self-talk myself.

Knock, knock, who’s there?

I AM.

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