You need a strong family because at the end, they will love you and support you unconditionally. Luckily, I have my dad, mom and sister.
My mom and dad met at UCLA when he as a captain in the Air Force and she was in her junior year.
My dad said to me, ‘Work hard and be patient.’ It was the best advice he ever gave me. You have to put the hours in.
My dad’s not here, but he’s watching in heaven.
I try to live my life like my father lives his. He always takes care of everyone else first. He won’t even start eating until he’s sure everyone else in the family has started eating. Another thing: My dad never judges me by whether I win or lose.
My dad wanted me to play football so bad, he took me to Washington High School on the west side of Atlanta because they were number one. They never lost.
My dad wouldn’t buy me tight pants. I had to get my own money to buy them.
My dad’s a beautiful man, but like a lot of Mexican men, or men in general, a lot of men have a problem with the balance of masculinity and femininity – intuition and compassion and tenderness – and get overboard with the macho thing. It took him a while to become more, I would say, conscious, evolved.
I inherited that calm from my father, who was a farmer. You sow, you wait for good or bad weather, you harvest, but working is something you always need to do.
You realise that there’s nothing more endearing than people who are desperately trying to be liked or trying to be the hero, you know? Who also probably just need a hug or want to impress their dad?
I was born to a dad who was born in the South Bronx while the Bronx was burning, while landlords were committing arson to their own buildings.
It was my dream playing for the Montreal Canadiens – it was my dad’s team.
The most important influence in my childhood was my father.
Shortly after my dad died, my mom figured that if I could do a few commercials, I’d get a college fund.
Dad, wherever you are, you are gone but you will never be forgotten.
If you’ve witnessed bullying or if you’re being bullied, tell somebody you trust. Tell mom and dad. Tell your counselors or your coaches. Tell your teachers. Tell an adult who you trust.
I look at my little girl and I wonder what she’s going to be and what she’s going to do and what is it that leads girls certain directions in life. I think a lot of that goes back to what kind of father they had, and so it makes me want to be the best dad I can possibly be.
It was a very long and hard decision. My dad kept telling me, ‘You can always go to college, but you can’t always go pro.’ That made sense to me.
My dad was the first man I ever loved.
I have never been jealous. Not even when my dad finished fifth grade a year before I did.
Dad’s Jewish and Irish, Mom’s German and Scotch. I couldn’t say I was anything. My last name isn’t even Downey. My dad changed his name when he wanted to get into the Army and was underage. My real name is Robert Elias. I feel like I’m still looking for a home in some way.
My dad only ever talked about two things: bicycles and Mercedes.
My dad’s funny. He’s laid back and a cool guy.
Thank God I have parents who’d support the crazy things I did. If my dad found a snake, I’d take it to the woods. I was always taking these homeless birds and homeless cats home.
Nowadays, if you have a mustache, people look at you like you’re crazy. But when I was growing up, I never saw my dad without a mustache.
When you were growing up, your mom and dad told you to look both ways before crossing the street or not to get into a car with a stranger. It’s the same with the Internet. We have a big responsibility and a huge role in bringing all the stakeholders to the table – users, parents, educators, law enforcement, government organisations.
Some of the happiest times I ever saw my dad was times when I was with him in the casinos, and he had a good night.
I’m dying to be a great dad one day, whenever that day comes.
In the ‘Garnethill’ trilogy, people always forget that Maureen O’Donnell’s dad was a journalist and she did art history at uni and her brother did law, but no-one ever thinks they’re middle-class – they’re just working class because they speak with accents.
My dad taught me from my youngest childhood memories through these connections with Aboriginal and tribal people that you must always protect people’s sacred status, regardless of the past.
I never had a speech from my father ‘this is what you must do or shouldn’t do’ but I just learned to be led by example. My father wasn’t perfect.
My dad has been to every soccer game that I’ve played in, both at the amateur level and at the professional level, and he always had great things to say whether we won or we lost, whether I felt great or not so great.
I could not tell you the date of my mother’s death. I could not tell you the date of my dad’s death. These are not dates that I find significant.
I realised I could run after finding out that my dad used to run and it gave me the morale that if he did it then maybe I could also run.
I grew up upper-class. Private school. My dad had a Jaguar. We’re African-American, and we work together as a family, so people assume we’re like the Jacksons. But I didn’t have parents using me to get out of a bad situation.
I grew up on the back of a motorcycle – my dad didn’t have a car until I was a teenager.
Matangi’s mantra is aim, which is MIA backwards. She fights for freedom of speech and stands for truth, and lives in the ghetto because her dad was the first person in Hindu mythology who came from the ‘hood, but had gained enlightenment through not being a Brahmin.
I missed my dad a lot growing up, even though we were together as a family. My dad was really a workaholic. And he was always working.
My wrestling and family go together. It’s always been that way, from day one with my mom and dad, my sister, my wife, four daughters, grandsons, son-in-laws.
My dad died from pancreatic cancer at 54… I’m making sure I’m eating my vegetables and staying away from the red meat.
Have you ever read the back of the Newman’s Diavolo pasta sauce? Dad on the front is dressed like the devil with a little beard and horns. He says that he sells his soul to the devil for the recipe. It was banned in the South. They thought it was an abomination.
My father moved to Hawaii from Brooklyn and my mother came there as a child from the Philippines. They met at a show where my dad was playing percussion. My mom was a hula dancer.
At times I’ve got a really big ego. But I’ll tell you the best thing about me. I’m some guy’s dad; I’m some little gal’s dad. When I die, if they say I was Annie’s husband and Zachary John and Anna Kate’s father, boy, that’s enough for me to be remembered by. That’s more than enough.
My mom was a housewife and a sponge, who would absorb everything and make it all look like a fairytale when he entered the house. For instance, when he came home, I would always be seen studying with my books open. She always made sure that Dad went back to the shoot happily.
When I brought my medical school friends home, Dad used to tell us that we didn’t know anything about the world. He started giving me impromptu quizzes about history and current events. I quite liked that.
The child is father of the man.
My dad had a Vincent Black Shadow, which was a quite particular thing: it was the fastest cycle of its era… It sparked a world for me; when I was old enough, I got a motorcycle.
One of the greatest titles in the world is parent, and one of the biggest blessings in the world is to have parents to call mom and dad.
And my dad drilled it in my head, you know, ‘If you want it bad enough, and you’re willing to make the sacrifices, you can do it. But first you have to believe in yourself.
My mom and dad always tried to make Christmas special for us. We were poor, but it’s funny because we had no idea.
When I come home, my daughter will run to the door and give me a big hug, and everything that’s happened that day just melts away.
I love my dad; I’m a daddy’s girl, all the way.
My dad leaving my life. That’s the biggest thing that happened to me. I just remember what he tells me, the memories, and try to move on forward each day, knowing that he’s still here, looking down on me.
My dad wanted me to be a professional person, which I was – I was a civil engineer. I graduated from civil engineering at USC in California. I became an engineer, and I helped design the roads for the L.A. County Roads Department. And I did that for about one and a half years in a sense to please my parents – to be a ‘respectable’ person.
My dad’s my best mate, and he always will be.
I think, if I had a dad, I would have went the normal college route. I’m so stoked my life panned out how it was.
My dad was in the army. World War II. He got his college education from the army. After World War II he became an insurance salesman. Really, I didn’t know my dad very well. He and my mother split up after the war. I was raised by my maternal grandmother and grandfather, and by my mother.
I love my dad, and I’m proud to be his daughter.
I grew up in a house where my father encouraged my brother and me to fail. I specifically remember coming home and saying, ‘Dad, Dad, I tried out for this or that and I was horrible,’ and he would high-five me and say, ‘Way to go.’
I mean, I look at my dad. He was twenty when he started having a family, and he was always the coolest dad. He did everything for his kids, and he never made us feel like he was pressured. I know that it must be a great feeling to be a guy like that.
The values transmitted through oral history are many – courage, selflessness, the ability to endure, and to do so with humor and grace. I got those values listening to my dad’s stories about the Depression and how their family survived. It gave me courage that I, too, could survive hard times.
You have to respect your parents. They are giving you an at-bat. If you’re an entrepreneur and go into the family business, you want to grow fast. Patience is important. But respect the other party… My dad and I pulled it off because we really respect each other.
My heroes always are mostly my parents – my father especially, and my mom, who’s passed on already. My dad is a very strong man, and by him being educated, and a principal and school superintendent over 37 years, he plays such a big role in my life.
I was always determined to make it as a footballer, but if things hadn’t worked out, I’d have maybe followed my dad into the building industry.
I get that same queasy, nervous, thrilling feeling every time I go to work. That’s never worn off since I was 12 years-old with my dad’s 8-millimeter movie camera.
Parents are the centre of a person’s solar system, even as an adult. My dad had a stronger gravitational pull than most, so his absence was bound to leave a deep and lasting void.
In New York, my dad raised me to listen to everything like hip-hop, rock and country music. When I moved to Dallas, I started listening to whatever I wanted to listen to.
Everyone talks about how we’re on our phones all the time, but the fact remains that when I’m away on a film set for two months, I can Skype my family. I remember the phone calls my parents had to make when my dad was away for a while when I was younger – that once-a-week expensive phone call! The time pressure on talking to your father!
As a family, we were always active. Lots of walking, lots of running as well as riding bikes with dad.
Without my dad, I wouldn’t be here.
Being a child that grew up with a single mom back in the ’70s, Father’s Day to me was always a very uncomfortable time. At school, we would make Father’s Day cards for our dads, and I usually mailed one to my dad, and he hardly ever responded.
I feel my dad, I still feel his love, and I still love him. I would do anything to have him back, but half the reason that my life is good, has real, true value, is that he died. I would obviously rather have him alive, but he gave me so much in his death.
It was tough times in Ohio when we lived there. My dad was between unemployed and just selling random knickknacks at a flea market. My mom was a cashier at a Chinese food restaurant. They both had awesome careers back in Taiwan, and they came here for my sister and I.
No matter how good you are, at some point your kids are gonna have to create their own independence and think that Mom and Dad aren’t cool, just to establish themselves. That’s what adolescence is about. They’re gonna go through that no matter what.
I don’t like asking people for things, so if I can do it myself, that’s the mindset I have. My dad is very much a do-it-yourself kind of person, so I had a strong sense of independence.
My family is all musicians – my dad plays drums, my mom plays flute, my older brother plays drums, my little brother plays drums and piano. For some reason, I didn’t get the memo, so I just play bass.
The beauty of where I’m from – this small little town called Wallburg, North Carolina – I didn’t have a TV; I was out playing ball with my dad, shooting clay pigeons.
I lost contact with my father for many years because of apartheid. For, like, six years, I didn’t see my dad. And, now, this was the six years of being a teenager.
I used to listen to my dad a lot as a way of trying to be close to him, as well, because my parents were divorced and I didn’t spend that much time with him. And I used to put headphones on and listen to my dad talk and sing and I found that quite… bonding with him, in a weird way.
I was built up from my dad more than anyone else.
My brother Bob doesn’t want to be in government – he promised Dad he’d go straight.
My youngest son’s pre-school class was recently asked what their dads do for work. The responses were things like, my dad sells money, and my dad figures stuff out. My son said, ‘I’ve never seen my dad do work.’ It’s true. Skateboarding doesn’t seem like real work, but I’m proud of what I do.
My dad encouraged us to fail. Growing up, he would ask us what we failed at that week. If we didn’t have something, he would be disappointed. It changed my mindset at an early age that failure is not the outcome, failure is not trying. Don’t be afraid to fail.
Of course my uncle was a giant, but my dad, in particular, had the house filled with these great Dixieland jazz stars, really the best of them: Henry Red Allen, Willie ‘The Lion’ Smith, Buster Bailey, Cutty Cutshall, Tyree Glenn, Zutty Singleton. These are all big names in the Dixieland world.
What I do now is all my dad’s fault, because he bought me a guitar as a boy, for no apparent reason.
Dad never interferes in our personal matters. He is a very candid person and knows where to draw the line. He is always there for all of us in the family.
My mother and father raised their eyebrows at first when I said I wanted to be an actor because I was in this industrial city. My dad had done a bit of boxing on the side, but he was a welder first and foremost. I was 17, and I said, ‘I want to be an actor.’ They worried it was a waste of time.
Dad taught me everything I know. Unfortunately, he didn’t teach me everything he knows.
My dad is an excellent grandfather. He loves kids. He loves to kiss them to death.
I remember one parent-teacher conference at the lower school, and Barack went, and there were SWAT guys on top of the roof of the school. And Malia was like, ‘Dad, really? Really? Do they really have to be up there?’ And it’s like, yeah, honey, they do.
Whenever I did a good performance, my Dad and my uncles, who were rabid movie fans, took me to the movies. There began my underlying love affair with film.
My mom is a nurse; my dad is a pediatrician. They were born in the 1940s, and they were both inspired to fight against injustice, whether it was the injustices of the Vietnam War or Watergate or children in poverty or oppression of African Americans in Philadelphia where I was growing up.
I was born in Corpus Christi, Texas, the youngest of four girls, including my oldest sister, Lisa, who has special needs. My mom was a special education teacher, and my dad worked on the Army base. We weren’t wealthy, but we were determined to succeed.
My dad was a slightly stricter version of Richard Dawkins. The worldview was that there are idiots out there who believe in Santa Claus and fairies and magic and elves, and we’re not joining that nonsense.
My mom keeps me going, man. She deserves such a good life. I just wanna give it to her. My dad, too. My family, my friends, they keep me motivated. Just knowing my personal legend, just knowing what I’m supposed to do, that keeps me going.
My dad is very down to earth, and I view him as a creative genius, and I am very proud of that.
I’m Italian. I love to cook Italian food, so I learned from my dad how to make sauce and meatballs and all that stuff. With my wife and kids, I started making homemade pasta. The very first time, I didn’t have a pasta maker, so I had to cut it with a knife, the old-school way! The noodles were all jacked up, but it was fun.
My favorite memories were with my dad, throwing a football around when he came home from work. As long as kids are having fun, that’s the biggest deal at the end of the day.
I remember my very first training session. It was raining hard. It was cold, and I went home. I couldn’t train. I stayed for ten minutes then told my dad to take me home.
I can’t remember a major league game where I could make eye contact with my dad. I kept wondering if he was going to yell at me for hanging a pitch or something.
Indians mock their corrupt politicians relentlessly, but they regard their honest politicians with silent suspicion. The first thing they do when they hear of a supposedly ‘clean’ politician is to grin. It is a cliche that honest politicians in India tend to have dishonest sons, who collect money from people seeking an audience with Dad.
One of the jokes among our family was that whenever Dad went to the movies, he insisted on getting his senior citizen’s discount. It was laughable to view him as a traditional senior citizen; he was one of the most robust people I ever knew. Until, very suddenly, he wasn’t.
I stopped loving my father a long time ago. What remained was the slavery to a pattern.
My dad grew up in a mud hut and studied by candlelight. He was 14 when he got a scholarship to Russia. He was super clever – the cleverest person. He landed in 5ft of snow, and was alone at 14, studying science and engineering. He didn’t have a bed, and he slept on a table.
A father is a man who expects his son to be as good a man as he meant to be.
When I was 12, my feet were so small, I wore my sisters’ glitter shoes. My dad would whoop me: ‘You’re not going to school now, you’ll embarrass us!’
The only gift my dad ever bought me is still in my jewelry box. It died at 10 minutes to 11 decades ago, but the gold Caravelle watch keeps my dad alive. A watch isn’t about keeping time. It’s about stopping it.
I’m the one person who wears the words ‘hustle, loyalty, respect’ on my T-shirts and merchandise. My audience is children. It’s very flattering to see a kid wear your T-shirt; it’s even more flattering to have a dad come up to you and say, ‘I watch you with my kid. Keep doing what you’re doing. You’re a role model for my son.’
I think about me and my dad taking a road trip from Phoenix to Nashville when I was 19. He’s no longer here with me, but I still drive that same 1994 Chevy truck. I never have bought a new car.
I wasn’t born to a wealthy or powerful family – mother from Puerto Rico, dad from the South Bronx.
When I was a kid, I did many sports. Judo, like my dad, but also volleyball, handball, and gymnastics. We never played much football.
It was my 16th birthday – my mom and dad gave me my Goya classical guitar that day. I sat down, wrote this song, and I just knew that that was the only thing I could ever really do – write songs and sing them to people.
My dad always said, ‘Don’t worry what people think, because you can’t change it.’
My family never took vacations; we never traveled together. We never did anything. My spring breaks were going home to help my dad at the restaurant.
Sons have always a rebellious wish to be disillusioned by that which charmed their fathers.
I find it interesting where grunge originated from and then where it was taken, which was high fashion. My dad was so poor that they kept going to Goodwill to get donated ripped jeans. It wasn’t a fashion decision; it was an ‘I don’t have any money, I have no other choice’ type of decision.
I grew up originally in Rochester. It was where I was born and a very tough neighbourhood with a lot of violence. I consider myself lucky. When I was aged 11, in 1998, Dad moved us to a suburban area from what was a ghetto area. It gave me a chance of survival.
My dad had this thing – everyone in Canada wants to play hockey; that’s all they want to do. So when I was a kid, whenever we skated my dad would not let us on the ice without hockey sticks, because of this insane fear we would become figure skaters!
My dad was such a great story-teller, a good teacher.
All the learnin’ my father paid for was a bit o’ birch at one end and an alphabet at the other.
There are many people who are behind whatever I’ve achieved so far. My dad, Daboo Malik, is my mentor and guiding light who supported and influenced me. Without him, I wouldn’t have been able to be what I am today. Besides him, Salman Khan is yet another important person who is my biggest and constant inspiration.
I think that opening up on Twitter helps people see that there are things that I deal with that they can relate to. Maybe it’s not exactly the same as having a famous mom, but maybe their dad puts pressure on them to be a doctor, and they don’t want to be a doctor.
I was raised in the greatest of homes… just a really great dad, and I miss him so much… he was a good man, a real simple man… Very faithful, always loved my mom, always provided for the kids, and just a lot of fun.
I like a lot of food. I like Taiwanese food, of course. I like baguettes, especially the ones that my dad buys. Vancouver has a lot of variety, with pizza, hot dogs, Italian, Indian, seafood – a great combination of culture.
But the love of adventure was in father’s blood.
My dad believes in God, I think. I’m not sure if my mom does. I don’t.
I remember debating the finer points of flaky pastry with my chicken-pot-pie-obsessed American dad. I remember the divine mix of Thai food, TV dinners, and hearty, homemade goodness that have shaped this palate of mine to this day. I remember all this, but I still Google my husband’s birthday. Thank God he’s famous.
‘Rust’ really started with the passing of my dad, and me really looking back inward to my self about where I stand with all things on a faith/religious/spiritual level. And it’s really put me on this interesting road and very educational, I might add, road back to understanding the role of faith in God and Christ in my life.
My dad told me something long before I was in politics, and when your dad gives you advice every single day, eventually one or two of the things stick in your mind. And he said, don’t believe what people say, believe what they do.
As a dad, you are the Vice President of the executive branch of parenting. It doesn’t matter what your personality is like, you will always be Al Gore to your wife’s Bill Clinton. She feels the pain and you are the annoying nerd telling them to turn off the lights.
I’m concerned a little bit with the culture of celebrating the fundraise. My dad taught me that when you borrow money it’s the worst day of your life.
When I was little, we lived on 8 acres and my mom had a horse. But when I was 7, my mom kicked my dad out, and then in order to feed us five kids, she got critters cheap or for free and raised them for food. We milked a cow, raised chickens, pigs and beef cattle. We heated our one-story house with wood and stayed cold all winter.
My dad says he likes to bask in my glow.
My dad always said, ‘Champ, the measure of a man is not how often he is knocked down, but how quickly he gets up.’
It’s an ongoing joy being a dad.
As soon as I was tall enough, my dad used to let me drive him 60 miles or 70 miles to work. That was pretty fun. My dad was really old. At the time, he was 82 years old. He said, ‘Can you drive?’ and I said ‘Yes.’ I guess I didn’t find it to be that crazy.
I’ve never heard my dad say a bad word about anybody. He always keeps his emotions in check and is a true gentleman. I was taught that losing it was indulgent, a selfish act.
Christmas was always a big holiday in our family. Every Christmas Eve before we’d go to bed, my mom and dad would read to us two or three stories and they would always be ‘The Happy Prince,’ ‘The Gift of the Magi’ and ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas,’ and I would like to keep that alive.
My dad was a football player – a soccer player – for Manchester United, and I loved playing football, but I also happened to be the guy in class who was pretty good at sight reading. My teacher gave me scripts, and I was very comfortable.
The most ironic thing is my grandfather has his masters in music composition; he was a jazz composer. My dad was a musician, too. He played more, like, soul music.
When Dad came home from work, he’d turn our family dinners into tutorials on business, money, sales, and profit margins. He shared fascinating stories about his customers, marketing, and my favorite topic when I was a kid – new product launches. Our father also took us to his office before the advent of ‘Take Your Child to Work Day.’
I came back from university thinking I knew all about politics and racism, not knowing my dad had been one of the youngest-serving Labour councillors in the town and had refused to work in South Africa years ago because of the situation there. And he’s never mentioned it – you just find out. That’s a real man to me. A sleeping lion.
Whoever does not have a good father should procure one.
My mother’s proud of where she’s from, and her history, and her past, and same with my dad. I have roots in Africa. Like, I am from Africa as well as from Germany, and I am very proud of that.
Dad is and always will be my living, breathing superhero.
My father had the most horrible racist rhetoric you ever heard, but he treated people all the same. I remember this rainstorm. A car broke down with these black people in it, and nobody would stop. My dad was a mechanic. He fixed the car for nothing. I remember looking at him when he got back in. He said, ‘Well, they got those kids in the car.’
I’m going to take care of the man I’m with. I grew up in a household where my mum takes care of my dad – she cooks, she does everything – and that’s the kind of girl I am.
My dad worked for Nestle for 26 years and ended up being the mayor of our hometown. One of the lessons I learned from him was to never mistake kindness for weakness.
In high school I dated a white woman. She would come to visit me on the rez. And her dad, who was very racist, didn’t like that at all. And he told her one time, ‘You shouldn’t go on the rez if you’re white because Indians have a lot of anger in their heart.’
When I was little, we had a Golden Book that had all these Disney characters in one portrait on the first page. My dad used to read from it every night. We’d play this game of find Pluto or find Donald Duck. He’d read us stories and do all the voices. Those are great memories.
Who’s my hero? That’s a great question… Well, I think my dad is my hero, because he’s someone I look up to every day.
My father? I never knew him. Never even seen a picture of him.
My dad’s from that generation like a lot of immigrants where he feels like if you come to this country, you pay this thing like the American dream tax: like you’re going to endure some racism, and if it doesn’t cost you your life, well hey, you lucked out. Pay it; there you go, Uncle Sam. I was born here, so I actually had the audacity of equality.
My dad was always in sales. My mom had a heart for the ages. Worked in recreation, doing rehabilitation in nursing homes. Very nice, practical folks who were very proud of me but had no inclination toward the stage in any way.
Humans have voids, and you need things to fill voids… I didn’t have a dad to fill that male model void, so when I heard Eminem or freaking seen Dave Chapelle, that’s what I gravitated to.
Fathers are biological necessities, but social accidents.
Mum is from West Waterford, Dungarvan. She’s a farmer’s daughter. She’s a nurse. She left home very young – I think she was 18 – and went off to train as a nurse in England. My dad is from India, just south of Mumbai. He was one of the first in his family to go to college, and he went to England in the ’70s; he emigrated there.
I truly think comedy is – being funny is DNA. My dad was a doctor, a wonderful doctor, and people still come up to me today, ‘Your father helped my mother die.’ You know what I’m saying? He made her laugh ’til she died. My father was always very funny.
To be able to have winning in your blood growing up, whether it was pounding my little brother or trying to beat my dad in something, or just competing on teams with my friends, it was nonstop.
Did Superman really want to save the world, or did he just feel like he had to? Would he much rather be a farmer? Maybe. Would he much rather be hanging out with his dad and his mom and his dog? Probably.
When I was younger, me and my dad used to do different things. I don’t think I would call it community service. It was more just us doing nice things. We used to donate to Goodwill or do can drives. Give people money if they needed it. Little things like that.
My Father had a profound influence on me. He was a lunatic.
Like a lot of kids, I had a Superman cake or different theme cakes, but then I hit the age where I think my mom thought I was ready for the German chocolate cake that she makes for my dad. Just the sight of that, the taste of that frosting, just reminds me of being at home with my mom and my dad and my sister and my friends.
My dad is from Nottingham – although I’ve only been there twice in my life, with one being when my friend was at university there. I’ve always found it a friendly place and has a good night life.
My dad has given me the best gift anyone has ever given me. He gave me wings to fly.
My mum was into pottery and embroidery, very artistic, and she knew some people from the college, which I think was how I got into it. My dad, who was a head-hunter, was also an incredible artist, and when he was very young, he was a really good cartoonist.
Everything I do in my life I do to make my mum and dad proud. I want to carry on in my dad’s footsteps and make sure that his legacy lives on forever.
But you know, my dad called me the laziest white kid he ever met. When I screamed back at him that he was putting down a race of people to call me lazy, his answer was that’s not what he was doing, and that I was also the dumbest white kid he ever met.
I always joke that my kids’ favorite holiday is Father’s Day. They love the way I celebrate the occasion by writing each of them a thank-you letter and a generous check. It’s my way of letting them know how much I appreciate the great pleasure and privilege of being their dad.
My dad is too cute. Every morning, he sends me one motivational quote. I have a folder full of all his quotes.
Mom and Dad were married 64 years. And if you wondered what their secret was, you could have asked the local florist – because every day Dad gave Mom a rose, which he put on her bedside table. That’s how she found out what happened on the day my father died – she went looking for him because that morning, there was no rose.
I honestly realized that my dad was white when someone told me in middle school. They’re like, ‘Oh your dad’s white?’ I’m like, ‘Oh, my gosh, he really is white.’ I knew what race was, but it didn’t matter to me.
I thought, ‘Let’s make it a check list. What if I got my education even though I lost my mother, even though my dad is in a shelter?’ and looking at these things as hurdles to go over. I could inspire myself.
When one has not had a good father, one must create one.
My mother told me, ‘Always do your best,’ and my dad says, ‘It’s important to be humble. That’s the key. They’re not there for you. You’re there for them.’
My dad was a bartender. My mom was a cashier, a maid and a stock clerk at K-Mart. They never made it big. They were never rich. And yet they were successful. Because just a few decades removed from hopelessness, they made possible for us all the things that had been impossible for them.
When I was really little, I was on a Pop Warner squad. I did it for a year. My dad was a Pop Warner football coach. I did it because my best friend was also on this cheer squad, and of course I looked up to my sister who was a cheerleader, so I wanted to cheer.
I was in the bath at the time, and my dad came running in and said, ‘Guess who they want to play Harry Potter!?’ and I started to cry. It was probably the best moment of my life.
A middle child, I was born in the depths of the Great Depression. My dad and mom were factory workers, struggling to make ends meet.
I never made it to the school choir because the music teacher didn’t like my voice. I was pretty sad. But he was probably right; I did have a voice a bit like a goat, but my dad told me to never give up and to keep going, and it’s paid off.
The way I was parented did affect my parenting – probably in the reverse. My dad was pretty strict, and the next generation probably wants to be less strict.
Strangely enough, among my dad’s things, I found the diary of an ancestor who was born in 1797 and became a ventriloquist in London. That was quite chilling. It described exactly how I was as a child but 150 years earlier – doing voices, pretending to be a ventriloquist.
My parents were kind of over protective people. Me and my sister had to play in the backyard all the time. They bought us bikes for Christmas but wouldn’t let us ride in the street, we had to ride in the backyard. Another Christmas, my dad got me a basketball hoop and put it in the middle of the lawn! You can’t dribble on grass.
From my dad I learned to be good to people, to always be honest and straightforward. I learned hard work and perseverance.
My dad once said that in criminal law you see terrible people on their best behavior; in family law you see great people on their worst behavior.
I fell in love with the legend of Paul Robeson as a kid. My dad would tell me all these amazing stories about his life and, bizarrely, ended up singing to Robeson on his deathbed.
You always give credit where credit is due – to high school coaches, college coaches – but my dad, the foundation that he built with me, is where all of this came from. The speed, the determination, the mindset, just the natural belief that you can do anything you put your mind to, it all comes from my dad.
I’ve told Billy if I ever caught him cheating, I wouldn’t kill him because I love his children and they need a dad. But I would beat him up. I know where all of his sports injuries are.
The lesson of Pearl Harbor ought never to be forgotten, and of course the motto that came from that, 69 years ago, the war which my dad fought, was ‘Remember Pearl Harbor, never again.’ We need to keep that to mind.
My parents couldn’t give me a whole lot of financial support, but they gave me good genes. My dad is a handsome son-of-a-gun, and my mom is beautiful. And I’ve definitely been the lucky recipient. So, thank you, Mom and Dad.
I’ve seen fathers criticizing their sons the moment a game’s over. Not my dad. It doesn’t matter if I threw an interception or a Hail Mary, he always says, ‘Good job, son, I’m proud of you.’ Then he shakes my hand and gives me a hug. Every time.
As a teenager, my dad taught me about the idea of unintended consequences, and I’ve had the experience, and how to deal with it, pounded into my soul over the years.
I’m lucky to have my dad in my life. He’s very brilliant, I think he’s really a smart man, and he’s a kind guy.
I’ve always wanted to buy a sports car. After the England series, I went up to my dad and said that I wanted to buy a sports car and got his consent. On his birthday, I surprised him by bringing it home. It’s a Porsche Boxter Limited Edition, and my family was thrilled to see it.
I just wish I could understand my father.
I’m half Telugu. My mom is Telugu and dad, a Maharashtrian. I was brought up in Gwalior. I was exposed to English, Hindi, and Marathi. I heard my mom speak to her family in Telugu, so I got the hang of it.
On the death of his brothers, my dad lied about his age and joined the army in 1918. He was in the trenches long enough to be gassed and contract the early stages of tuberculosis from which he would eventually die just before my birth.
I was lucky to have my dad in my life. As crazy as things got, I always had him to put his hand on my shoulder.
I play bass. I play a bit of guitar. I’ve never been to a lesson, so my theory of music is non-existent in any instrument, but we always had guitars around. My dad taught me to play drums for ‘Love Actually,’ and I still play drums now. But I’m not a ‘drummer.’ I’m not a ‘guitarist.’ I’m trying to be a bassist.
My greatest memories as a kid were playing sports with my dad and watching sports with my dad.
Every day in our house is like Valentine’s Day. I’ve kept it traditional with what my dad has done with my mom. Every morning, I get up and I make coffee and I bring Giuliana coffee in bed.
All my money is in a savings account. My dad has explained the stock market to me maybe 75 times. I still don’t understand it.
Growing up in Georgia, my dad was a farmer and we worked in agriculture, so we were always looking up at the sky, checking if rain was in the forecast. That always set the tone for the mood in my household, whether we had rain coming in or not – we knew the crops would be good and it was going to be a good week around the Bryan household.
Fortunately for me, I had a father who didn’t let us get away with anything. You were taught respect, and you were taught to be humble. That has a lot to do with how I am now, because I’m still scared of my dad.
My dad got a job as a professor at Virginia Commonwealth University. He teaches biology and genetics. My dad has been obsessed with science his whole life. Both my paternal grandparents were illiterate bamboo farmers, so he really worked his way up and then got a Ph.D., full ride and everything, from universities in America.
My dad was a mime and then he had his company and created plays for children and was very successful with it.
When I was about 12 years old back in Houston, my Dad used to take us to the driving range.
Love and fear. Everything the father of a family says must inspire one or the other.
Me and my buddies are all like brothers. So it’s okay for us to say ‘I love you’ or whatever. It’s always cool. I think that comes from my dad. That’s just the way he always was.
I wasn’t a fan of the Sixers. My dad was a big Mo Cheeks fan, and he wanted me to be drafted by the Sixers. My thing was, if that could make my dad happy, then that would make me happy, you know what I mean?
All of my high school male teachers were WWII and/or Korean War veterans. They taught my brothers and me the value of service to our country and reinforced what our dad had shown us about the meaning of service.
Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a dad, and that’s why I call you dad, because you are so special to me. You taught me the game and you taught me how to play it right.
I didn’t really like opera. I liked cheerleading and boys and, later, smoking. So my opera career was cut short when I was 15. My dad got sick, and we couldn’t afford the lessons, so I stopped and became a cheerleader and wrecked my voice.
There’s a misconception that I can’t relate to the quote-unquote ‘Asian-American experience’ because I didn’t grow up with an Asian mom and dad. And that’s just not true. I am Asian American, and so playing a girl who is half Korean, half white, but her white dad tried really hard to connect with her mom’s heritage – that’s very familiar to me.
I think I’ve got my business notions and my sense for that sort of thing from my dad. My dad never had a chance to go to school. He couldn’t read and write. But he was so smart. He was just one of those people that could just make the most of anything and everything that he had to work with.
My father invented a cure for which there was no disease and unfortunately my mother caught it and died of it.
A lot of people don’t realize this, but probably the one person that gets made fun of in ‘South Park’ more than anybody is my dad. Stan’s father, Randy – my dad’s name is Randy – that’s my drawing of my dad; that’s me doing my dad’s voice. That is just my dad. Even Stan’s last name, Marsh, was my dad’s stepfather’s name.
My mother was very funny. My dad had a great sense of humor. My grandmother, too.
My dad took me out to see a meteor shower when I was a little kid, and it was scary for me because he woke me up in the middle of the night. My heart was beating; I didn’t know what he wanted to do. He wouldn’t tell me, and he put me in the car and we went off, and I saw all these people lying on blankets, looking up at the sky.
I hope I can be as good of a father to my son as my dad was to me.
My mother’s dad dropped out of the eighth grade to work. He had to. By the time he was 30, he was a master electrician, plumber, carpenter, mason, mechanic. That guy was, to me, a magician. Anything that was broken, he could fix. Anybody anywhere in our community knew that if there was a problem, Carl was there to fix it.
I’ve never been a hands-on dad. I’m not ashamed to admit it, but you can’t run a restaurant and be home for tea at 4:30 and bath and change nappies.
All the awards in the world, you can get into all the nightclubs, they’ll send you the nicest clothes. Nothing better than walking into your dad’s restaurant and seeing a smile on his face and knowing that your mom and dad and your sister are real proud of you.
We come from fallible parents who were kids once, who decided to have kids and who had to learn how to be parents. Faults are made and damage is done, whether it’s conscious or not. Everyone’s got their own ‘stuff,’ their own issues, and their own anger at Mom and Dad. That is what family is. Family is almost naturally dysfunctional.
My dad was my best friend and greatest role model. He was an amazing dad, coach, mentor, soldier, husband and friend.
My dad made these dough balls and covered them up with a cloth in front of a gas fire, which was stuck on a wall. They were rising. In my head, I think they were the best rolls I’ve ever had. If there was a starting point for me, that was it.
Family dinner in the Norman Rockwell mode had taken hold by the 1950s: Mom cooked, Dad carved, son cleared, daughter did the dishes.
My father was not a failure. After all, he was the father of a president of the United States.
My dad was fine about me doing modelling at 16 because I always said school was important to me. I always chose my jobs carefully so I wouldn’t have to take too much time off. It got harder toward the end with my A-levels; there were sleepless nights, and I was doing my homework on the plane coming home, but I pulled through.
The only big things I’ve purchased are my dad’s heart valve and a Rolls-Royce for my parents, for their anniversary. And that was only because my dad had a Lady Gaga license plate on our old car and it was making me crazy because he was getting followed everywhere, so I bought him a new car.
I really, really like interior design. I grew up in a really old house outside of Philly that was built in 1821. My mom is really into antiques, and my dad is very mid-century. They’re not together anymore, so in the middle of growing up, I, all of the sudden, had two houses that were very different but really well done in each of their own ways.
It is easier for a father to have children than for children to have a real father.
I’m from Iowa Falls, Iowa. My dad was a small-town lawyer, and my mom was a pharmacist. She worked at Swartz Drug. I have five older brothers.
I have this complex. I don’t like too much exposure. I don’t know why it is. Maybe it’s bred in me, because my dad always told me to be humble and don’t think you’re too good.
I said, ‘Ooh, Dad, I want the yellow ones.’ He said, ‘Where?’ I said, ‘Right there, Dad. I want the yellow ones.’ Everybody goes, ‘Those are green’. That’s how I knew I was colorblind.
Every morning, my dad would have me looking in the mirror and repeat, ‘Today is going to be a great day; I can, and I will.’
I’m a pretty hands-on dad and make the most of my custody. I take care of my little one whenever I can, and she determines what I can do and where I can do it.
I was selling stuff probably since I could remember, like 6 or 7 years old. I was always out there helping my mom and dad sell watches, glasses, CDs, DVDs, stuff like that. Whatever we could put our hands on. I did it until I was around 17. But I was just doing it because I had to. There was no other option.
What is a normal childhood? We weren’t rich, we were pretty middle-class. My dad survived from job to job; with him taking care of so many relatives, he couldn’t save any money.
I was always a kid trying to make a buck. I borrowed a dollar from my dad, went to the penny candy store, bought a dollar’s worth of candy, set up my booth, and sold candy for five cents apiece. Ate half my inventory, made $2.50, gave my dad back his dollar.
I remember opening my dad’s closet and there were, like, 40 suits, every color of the rainbow, plaid and winter and summer. He had two jewelry boxes full of watches and lighters and cuff links. And just… he was that guy. He was probably unfulfilled in his life in many ways.
My dad got a job in a factory in Philadelphia, so I was raised in Germantown in a sort of a barracks for soldiers. They had housing for temporary housing. And then my parents saved money and bought a little house in South Jersey, built on a swamp.
I was very down as a teenager, very upset because I had gotten hurt in a car accident. But my dad was a source of strength. He used to say, ‘It’s the character with strength that God gives the most challenges to.’ I’ve thought about that so many times in my life when things didn’t go right.
My dad’s been responsible for a lot of my issues.
My dad is and was very funny and had a really dry sense of humor, which, as a kid, seemed un-fun. But in retrospect, it’s kind of hilarious.
My dad used to have an expression – ‘It is the lucky person who gets up in the morning, puts both feet on the floor, knows what they are about to do, and thinks it still matters.’
Humor is always based on a modicum of truth. Have you ever heard a joke about a father-in-law?
My dad never quit no matter what. He couldn’t see, but he never let that stop him. Most people, when something like that happens, they just think their life is over. But that’s not true. My dad can still do things like a normal person. He still cooks; he still watches my sister and my brother’s baby when my mom’s not home.
My dad used to say, ‘You wouldn’t worry so much about what people thought about you if you knew how seldom they did.
My dad was always playing music. Not, like, playing music but listening to music.
I want my kids to see me as Dad, for God’s sake, not a television personality.
My dad farmed, my granddad was a farmer. I wanted to be a farmer.
I really love Linkin Park, and I loved Chester Bennington, and it is horrible what happened to him. I grew up listening to him because my dad would make these mixtapes with a lot of different artists – Linkin Park, Avril Lavigne, The Beatles, Sarah McLachlan, I just really loved Linkin Park, and their production is really sick.
It’s hard for me to just say, ‘Wow, this is amazing – I’m famous. I’m living the dream.’ I sit there and think, ‘I’m scared – this can go away tomorrow.’ My dad always says that I’m a tortured soul because I’m never pleased; I never feel like I deserve what I’ve achieved.
When I was a kid, I used to imagine animals running under my bed. I told my dad, and he solved the problem quickly. He cut the legs off the bed.
My dad gave me a haircut… and it wasn’t a very good one. When I went out of the house, my friends got on my case and said it looked like someone put a chili bowl over my head and cut around it.
I like to think my dad was easygoing and kind, and I think some of those things have been passed down. I am like him in a sense of being positive and hopeful. He was compassionate, and I’ve got a lot of that in me as well.
If I just do everything the opposite of what my dad did, I think that will make things pretty easy. I can joke about it now because I’m past that stage where it used to hurt. By having a kid, it’s gone. I could take all that negative energy that I had and put it in a positive way.
I don’t know what it’s like to have a typical father figure. He’s not the dad who’s going to take me to the beach and go swimming, but he’s such a motivational person.
I was born on the other side of the tracks, in public housing in Brooklyn, New York. My dad never made more than $20,000 a year, and I grew up in a family that lost health insurance. So I was scarred at a young age with understanding what it was like to watch my parents lose access to the American dream.
My dad is my best friend, my father, and my boss. When I do something that is exciting and he likes it, it feels three times as good as you can imagine.
My dad and mom did what a lot of parents did at the time. They sacrificed a lot of their life and used a lot of their disposable income to make sure their children were educated.
My father was my teacher. But most importantly he was a great dad.
You have to be confident in who you are and what you’re doing. Of course, you try to evolve. I would never tell you, ‘Today is the best I will ever be.’ I’m always trying to be a better chef, a better dad, a better person.
I gotta be honest with you. I’m kind of jealous of the way my dad gets to talk to my mom sometimes. Where are all those old-school women you can just take your day out on? When did they stop making those angels?
I think there’s nothing better than laughing in life, so that’s nice, to be thought of as someone who can make someone laugh. It’s ’cause I think life is hard. You know, my dad was a really silly man. A great Irish silly man. And that’s fine.
My dad was a very quiet person, and unbelievably tough. But my grandmother gave me my first look at negative thinking to bring about positive results. When I was just a little guy, anytime I came to my grandmother and said I wish for this or that, Grandma would say, ‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.’
My dad said, ‘Stay humble, and you gotta work harder than everybody else.’ My mom said, ‘Always be yourself.’ She always told me only God can judge me.
I knew I wanted to be an actress, but I hadn’t ever really told anyone. I’d always got quite good grades, so people assumed I would go and do a ‘normal’ job. My dad took me to my first audition for drama school and picked me up without anyone knowing, really.
My dad was a mechanic, and I have great style memories of him. He wore, every single day: a blue chambray shirt, Levi’s 501s, and Red Wing boots. And that certainly wasn’t fashionable at the time; it was basically the opposite. And he wore these horn rim glasses that were very Sol Moscot.
I hate short hair on men – the ‘real’ man is something I don’t know. My dad was always playing with hairbands, making rings, while the women were wearing jeans, white T-shirts and Converse. That was the uniform at home.
I never saw my dad cry. My son saw me cry. My dad never told me he loved me, and consequently I told Scott I loved him every other minute. The point is, I’ll make less mistakes than my dad, my sons hopefully will make less mistakes than me, and their sons will make less mistakes than their dads.
Dad wouldn’t let me fool with his guitar much, because I’m left-handed, and I’d pick it up upside down. But I remember learning to sing ‘Paper Doll,’ the Mills Brothers song – this was during the war – and I remember my dad taking me down to one of those little record booths where you could make spoken letters to send home.
One afternoon when I was 9, my dad told me I’d be skipping school the next day. Then we drove 12 hours from Melbourne to Sydney for the Centenary Test, a once-in-a-lifetime commemorative cricket match. It was great fun – especially for a kid who was a massive sports fan.
My dad took me to my first movie. It was ‘The Greatest Show on Earth’ in 1952, a movie of such scale it was actually a traumatic experience.
I don’t know where my romanticism comes from. My mom and dad would read to me a lot. ‘Treasure Island,’ ‘Robinson Crusoe,’ tales of chivalry and knights, things like that. Those are the stories I loved growing up.
My dad always said that hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard enough.
My dad is an ob-gyn – he’s retired now – and he wanted to come to the States to make a better life, for opportunity. My mom said that, on the plane ride here, I did not want to speak a word of English – I spoke Tagalog. And then, after the first day of school, I didn’t want to speak anything but English.
My nursery school did a production of ‘The Three Little Pigs.’ I played the third pig. When the wolf knocked on my door, I refused to get up and answer it because, to me, he was knocking the wrong way. I just lay there, snoring away on stage, fully immersed in my character. My dad turned to my mom and said: ‘Dustin Hoffman.’
Most parents were, like, Little League coaches and all that. My dad was a wrestling fan. Instead of going out and playing home run derby with my old man, we just watched wrestling together.
The health benefits of paid sick days policies are obvious. They prevent the spread of disease. But the impact is wider. If a working mom or dad loses a job because of sickness, the family may slip into poverty.
I’m compared to my dad all the time, and I’ve learned to take it positively by working hard.
My uncle played rugby, and my dad played football, and they used to argue which game was the roughest – and everybody agreed rugby was. It’s a great team sport, and to be successful, every person has to play in the same level.
My dad raised me with some good advice: ‘Always tell the truth. Always shoot from the hip. You might not have many friends, but you’ll never have enemies, because people will always know where you’re coming from.’
I’m sure there were times when I wish I had thought, ‘Gosh, that might really embarrass mom and dad,’ but our parents didn’t raise us to think about them. They’re very selfless and they wanted us to have as normal of a college life as possible. So really, we didn’t think of any repercussions.
Don’t force your kids into sports. I never was. To this day, my dad has never asked me to go play golf. I ask him. It’s the child’s desire to play that matters, not the parent’s desire to have the child play. Fun. Keep it fun.