Lia on her father’s lap

There were only two men I admired when I was little: my daddy and Johnny Carson. My father would let me stay up and watch the “Tonight Show” with him. At one time he fussed, but I think he just gave up. Watching the “Tonight Show,” I felt like I had membership in a special club that only met at 11:30 p.m. eastern/10:30 p.m. central. Laughing at Johnny’s monologue or staring in amazement at Joan Embery’s animals were some of the best times with my dad.

I am undoubtedly, unequivocally, and unapologetically 100% a “Daddy’s Girl.” In fact, being a “Daddy’s Girl” runs in the family. My mom was one, and based on the way my daughter instantly melts my husband’s heart with one puppy dog look, she’s going to become one too.

As a little girl, my father and I were inseparable. It wasn’t until I was older did I appreciate the uniqueness of my situation.

Much has been said about how the absence of a father or father figure in the household may negatively affect boys. The fact is, girls need their fathers too. A father is the first man that shapes a girl’s view of manhood. Many of my girlfriends who grew up without their fathers are still feeling the effects of their absence to this day.I feel very blessed that I have always had my father to rely on. Growing up in a neighborhood where the presence of single mothers was the norm, I knew I had a different experience growing up than some of my peers. Even from the very beginning my father was involved in my life. My mother worked the night shift, so my dad, who was the janitor of our apartment complex, played both the mother and the father during those late night feeding and diaper sessions.

On her wedding day, Lia with her father

My father is also the man behind my “unique” personality. So for those who know me, blame him. He would entertain me with impersonations of Johnny Carson and educate me on the jazz idiom by exposing me to the great voices of Nat “King” Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, and Louie Armstrong.  I recall a particularly awkward moment when my puzzled 1st grade classmates gave me an odd look when I asked them If they’d like to listen to Dizzy Gillespie during a playdate. Being a particularly quiet man, he subconsciously taught me that it was ok to not always be the center of attention. Sometimes it feels good to just stand in the background and observe from afar. He also taught me what hard work was. At one point, he took on two jobs as an apartment building janitor to send me to private school.

Over three decades later, I continue to be “Mr. Merriweather’s little girl.”  I married a wonderful man who has the same tenderness and quiet strength that my dad has. I make funny voices and characters for my daughter’s amusement and for my husband’s embarrassment. I spend select weekends where I expose my child to different genres of music. It brings me extra special joy when I see my 86 year-old dad chase his crawling infant granddaughter across the living room floor. Since becoming a parent one year ago this month, I’m amazed at how the games, ideas, and values my parents passed along to me surface in my relationship with my daughter. I could not imagine my father not being there for me. Who would teach me Johnny Carson’s patented end-of-monologue golf swing?  Who would teach me that black and white movies didn’t mean that the whole world was literally black and white?  Who would be a model for the man that I married?

Dads, both your sons and daughters need you to shape and guide their lives, as my father did mine. Please vote for National PTA’s Million Hours of Power campaign at http://www.refresheverything.com/millionhoursofpower in the Pepsi Refresh Project. Help us, help men shape the lives of our young people.

Lia Rogers

Lia Rogers is the Electronic Communications Manager for the National PTA based in Northbrook, IL.  Her parents, Elbert and Grace Merriweather, live in Chicago, IL where they eagerly await visits from their granddaughter.

Some of my fondest memories of growing up are of sitting with my mother and brother on the double bed my parents handed down to him when they got new furniture and listening as my mother read us stories. We had Big Little Books and Golden Books in those days and, of course, Mother Goose. I could always find my mother reading her adult books and couldn’t wait for our weekly trek to our public library.  She’d weave her way through the book shelves checking for favorite authors or interesting titles, and finally check out a stack of books for her and a stack for me. As I grew older and taller, there was little I liked better than to sit in the spreading Chinese elm tree in our backyard and take myself to new worlds and different lives via the pages of a book. The example my mother set has a lot to do with my choice to become a writer and editor.

But I honestly can’t remember seeing my father ever pick up a book while I was growing up. He did sit at the kitchen table and painstakingly read the newspaper and then discuss some of the articles over dinner. This annoyed my mother, as he liked to argue his points when she would rather have had a relaxing, quiet meal. But he never shared a book with us. He never read them himself, and he certainly never read them to me and my brother. I remember my mother even suggesting that he couldn’t read very well, pointing to how slowly he went over the newspapers. And I guess I kind of believed her.

Imagine my surprise when I saw my father devouring novels like candy when he was laid up in bed with a long illness. Why, of course he could read! He liked it, and would talk about the authors he especially enjoyed—Elmore Leonard, Mickey Spillane, Damon Runyon. I was thrilled to be able to share my passion for literature, but why had it come so late? Why hadn’t he read to me as a child? Why hadn’t he read books when I was growing up? What a wonderful thing that would have been to share with him.

Today’s fathers are much more engaged with their children in every way than they used to be, but some of the pressures that kept my father’s reading sidelined during my childhood—working at night, having very tiring days, household chores, and defined roles for moms and dads—are still preventing fathers from being more of an active presence in their children’s lives and education. Reading to children, especially, is one of the very best ways to ensure their academic success. So dads, when your child says to you, “Read to me, Daddy,” remember the lasting effect you will have if you say, “OK! What story will it be?” You’ll not only be helping your child learn, but you’ll be building memories you both will cherish in the years to come.

What can a role model give you?

A love for baseball and an unshakeable allegiance to a frequently-disappointing team. A zen-like approach to spackling, priming and painting. The ability to read a map and get somewhere I’ve never been before. A lifelong desire to do what needs to be done, volunteer, and help others. A knack for parallel parking despite my height-challenged state. The capacity to make decisions for myself and stand on my own two feet. A deep appreciation of the value of family, loyalty, and friendship. The urge to dig in the dirt and make things grow. The knowledge that, despite their stinger-like bodies, dragon flies can’t hurt me. The sense to read between the lines and know not everyone speaks the truth. An appreciation for the genius of a great punch line. The knowledge that girls can indeed beat boys. The ability to talk to anyone about anything absolutely anywhere anytime. The value of a well-told story as a great teaching lesson. The certainty that a dinner of basil-laced tomato sauce over al dente spaghetti, crusty bread, hearty red wine, and pignoli-filled meatball is the perfect comfort food. A belief in my ability to learn. The confidence to talk “Car” with a mechanic. The value of saving regularly, shopping smartly, and giving generously. The courage to tackle home improvement projects. A joy in the undervalued humor of a well-crafted pun. The importance of saying, “I was wrong” and “I’m sorry.” The value of knowing when to hold them and when to fold them. An ability to laugh at my mistakes. A drive to aim high and try hard. A great example of what a good person is and does. That’s what they gave to me–my Dad and uncles and male cousins and brothers, the men of my childhood.

The value of an interested, caring adult in a child’s life is indisputable. For a little girl, the act of a male caring enough to take time to talk, volunteer, and get involved in your life is precious. The male influences in my life shaped me into the woman I am: a lifelong volunteer with a passion for PTA. Those male role models worked through me to shape my sons into the men they are today—the passionate, volunteering, and green-thumbed son who work with children and the baseball-loving, meatball-perfecting, punch-line-perfect son finishing college.

Please join me in supporting PTA’s Million Hours of Power campaign so that more men will be encouraged to get involved and shape a child’s life. Vote every day at the Pepsi Refresh Project. Your support can help PTA do even more to get more men involved.

Deborah Walsh is a mother, former Connecticut State PTA President and currently the National Service Manager for the National PTA.

Kinny with her father at college graduation

My parents decided to immigrate to the U.S. in 1991 so that my brother and I could have a more progressive education and be freed from the pressure that accompanies entrance exams in the Taiwanese school system. We moved to Montgomery County, a suburb of Washington, DC, to be closer to relatives living nearby and take advantage of its first-rate public schools.

Unfortunately, for financial and professional reasons, my dad stayed behind in Taiwan so that he could support our family expenses and continue his medical practice. From third-grade on, I spent four weeks with my dad each year—two weeks during my summer vacation and two weeks during the holiday season. Needless to say, my father missed many Kodak moments—my ballet performance or my brother’s band recital—while we were growing up. However, that’s not to say that he wasn’t an involved parent. Before the Internet age (wait, my dad still doesn’t know how to use e-mail), we would talk to my dad over the phone several times a week. On most days, we’d call him before we had to go to bed, just as he’s getting ready to go to work. He would ask if we’ve brushed our teeth, completed our homework and obeyed my mom—the usual dad stuff. With our fax machine, I’ve even sent my homework for him to check. Knowing how much my dad sacrificed to provide for us drove me to push myself in school.

Male involvement can come in many shapes and forms—start by showing that you care even if you cannot be around physically. It can go a long way in a child’s life. Please vote for National PTA’s Million Hours of Power in the Pepsi Refresh project so that together we can increase male involvement.

– Kinny J. Mu is the Resource Development Manager for National PTA based in Alexandria, VA. Her parents, Ting Hui and Bor Jang, currently live in Taiwan.