Father: From Old English fæder, meaning protector and source. Today’s Everyday Maverick dad provides safety, availability, and hope—at home and beyond.
Girls & Dads: The Everyday Mavericks
How Safe, Available Fathers Raise Hope-Filled Girls
Becoming Maverick is not a destination; it’s a journey. And along the road of life, there are stages that quietly—but permanently—reshape who we are. One of those stages is parenting. Not all of us walk this road, but those who do quickly discover the paradox: it is equally demanding and deeply rewarding.
I’ve been given the privilege of fathering two remarkable girls. And that single fact has stretched, challenged, and redefined my understanding of what it means to be a man.
Mavericks and Fatherhood
Being an Everyday Maverick doesn’t mean living in constant rebellion—it means navigating the hurdles society places in our way with intention.
As fathers, especially fathers of girls, we regularly encounter systems, assumptions, and institutionalised stereotypes that quietly work against involvement, presence, and partnership. These stereotypes don’t just limit fathers; they ultimately work against families, children, and society itself.
The Everyday Maverick doesn’t simply endure these barriers in silence. He names them. He questions them. He starts conversations. And when necessary, he gently but firmly pushes back.
Because progress doesn’t happen through resentment—it happens through engaged, visible fathers redefining what normal looks like.
When Systems Don’t See Fathers
When Zoey was born, my wife was still recovering from childbirth. Wanting to be a good husband and an involved father, I volunteered to handle her registration at Home Affairs.
I arrived prepared—ID documents, marriage certificate, hospital records. Everything.
I didn’t make it past the security guard.
“You can’t go in,” he said.
“Why?”
“You’re not the mother.”
That moment wasn’t about paperwork. It was a quiet reminder that, in many systems, fathers are still seen as optional.
The Bathroom Problem No One Talks About
Then there’s the practical side of fathering girls—things no one warns you about.
Public restrooms.
Yes, things are slowly changing, but not fast enough. A father traveling alone with a young daughter has to think ahead in ways most people never consider.
At some point, she will need to use the bathroom.
At some point, you will too.
And then what?
My most stressful experience was flying alone with my eldest daughter, Alexis, for the first time. We were at OR Tambo International Airport, both urgently needing the restroom, and there wasn’t a family bathroom in sight.
I made a split-second decision: send her into the ladies’ room while I raced through the men’s room and stationed myself outside the door.
It worked—but barely.
Older and wiser now, I’d handle it differently. But that moment revealed how little space the world still makes for involved fathers.
Fathering Girls Without Being One
As fathers to daughters, we must acknowledge an important truth: we are not the same gender.
I don’t have a lived experience of being a girl.
That means I have to be intentional—learning when to step in, when to listen, and how to honour their femininity while still modelling healthy masculinity.
This matters more than we often realize.
Whether we like it or not, we are shaping their internal blueprint of what a man is. Consciously or unconsciously, we are modelling the type of man they may one day choose to trust, partner with, or marry.
The Sacred Role of Play
Another overlooked truth: fathers are often the primary drivers of play.
Play isn’t frivolous. It’s formative.
Through play, children learn courage, boundaries, resilience, confidence, and creativity. Rough-and-tumble moments, imagination, laughter, and exploration are all character laboratories.
When fathers disengage from play, children lose more than fun—they lose formation.
Redefining Fatherhood: Safety and Availability
Over time, I’ve reduced my understanding of fatherhood—and manhood—to three words:
Safety.
Availability.
Hope.
Safety
Safety goes far beyond shelter, food, and physical protection. It also includes teaching our daughters how to be safe in a complex world.
It means being a safe person. Someone they want to be around. Someone they trust. Someone who doesn’t ridicule their fears, emotions, or questions.
And beyond being safe for them, we must equip them to be safe themselves—emotionally, socially, digitally, physically, and relationally.
Availability
Availability is presence—real presence. It is the daily posture of saying, I am not too busy for you.
When they have questions about life.
When school feels overwhelming.
When emotions are confusing.
When the world feels loud.
To be available is to say, without words: You matter, and I’m here.
The Father as a Carrier of Hope
A father also carries something subtle but powerful into the life of a daughter: hope.
Hope that the future can be good.
Hope that mistakes are survivable.
Hope that growth is possible.
Hope that she is more than her current circumstances.
But hope doesn’t exist in a vacuum.
When fathers consistently show up as safe and available, hope becomes believable. It takes shape. It becomes something a daughter can stand on.
And this is where the ripple effect begins.
Girls raised by distinctive fathers often move differently through the world. They question unhealthy norms. They recognise safety. They expect presence. In that sense, they too become Mavericks—not by rebellion, but by confidence.
Becoming Maverick at Home
Society doesn’t just need better policies or better systems.
It needs more fathers who are safe.
More fathers who are available.
More fathers who actively facilitate hope.
Everyday Mavericks.
Men who navigate the hurdles, challenge outdated assumptions, and quietly model a better way—at home first, and then beyond it.
Fathering daughters has taught me that becoming a Maverick doesn’t start on stages, platforms, or leadership titles.
It starts at home.
In car rides.
In awkward public moments.
In bedtime conversations.
In play.
In presence.
To my fellow fathers—especially fathers of girls—the call is simple, but not easy:
Be safe.
Be available.
That’s how Mavericks are made.
And that’s how daughters learn what love, strength, and manhood really look like.
I don't claim that I have mastered parenting. Nor do I claim that it easy.
It is worth it!
Shalom!
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