Young people know how important it is for dads to be involved in

Arne Duncan, former U.S. Secretary of Education and a man who has walked among schools and spoken with countless students, once declared with a voice of deep concern and compassion: “Young people know how important it is for dads to be involved in their lives. As I travel the country and talk with students, some of them tell me that their lives would be totally different if their father was around.” In this statement, he does not speak only of family, but of destiny. For the presence or absence of a father is not a small detail in the story of a child—it can shape the path of their heart, their choices, and their future.

The origin of this wisdom comes from Duncan’s journeys through America’s schools, where he heard not statistics, but living voices. Students spoke of what they lacked: not just material things, but the steady hand of a father to guide, correct, and affirm. They longed for someone to stand beside them, to say “I am proud of you,” to provide protection and direction. In these confessions, Duncan heard a cry that society too often ignores: the cry for fatherhood, not as a biological fact, but as a living presence.

This truth has echoed through the ages. In ancient Rome, the paterfamilias held not only power but responsibility. He was the anchor of the household, meant to teach virtue, courage, and discipline. When fathers failed in their duties, families and even the state itself faltered. Likewise, in many cultures across history, the absence of a father has been seen not only as a private sorrow, but as a wound upon the community. A father is not only for his children—his presence strengthens the very fabric of society.

Consider also the life of Frederick Douglass, the great American abolitionist. Born into slavery, he never knew his father, and his mother was taken from him when he was young. This absence carved a deep pain, yet also fueled his hunger for freedom and justice. Douglass himself spoke of the anguish of children robbed of parents, calling it one of slavery’s cruelest crimes. His story confirms Duncan’s point: that when a father is absent, a void opens, and the child’s life is forever altered, though some, like Douglass, overcome that void with extraordinary strength.

Yet Duncan’s words are not only lament but also a call to action. He speaks of what young people already know—that fathers matter. And by naming it, he challenges men to rise to their calling. To be a father is not merely to provide bread, but to provide presence: to listen, to guide, to walk beside a child as they navigate the storms of growing up. A father’s voice can prevent despair, a father’s hand can steady against temptation, a father’s love can shield against the harshness of the world.

The lesson for us is clear: we must never underestimate the power of presence. A father absent through neglect or abandonment leaves scars that echo through generations. But a father who stays, who loves, who teaches, plants seeds that blossom into strength, resilience, and hope. Communities must honor this truth by supporting fathers, encouraging them to take responsibility, and recognizing the sacred weight of their role.

Practically, this means urging fathers to be more than providers—they must be participants in the lives of their children. It means mentoring the fatherless, so that no young person walks without guidance. It means building schools, churches, and communities that reinforce the bonds of family, rather than allowing them to dissolve. For every child deserves the gift of knowing they are not alone, that someone stands with them in their journey.

Thus, Arne Duncan’s words ring as both warning and hope: “Their lives would be totally different if their father was around.” Let us take this to heart, and let fathers be reminded of their holy charge. For in the presence of a loving father, the child learns confidence, the family finds strength, and the nation itself grows in peace. Let every father rise, then, to this noble duty, that no young voice may ever again have to say, “My life would be different if only he had been there.”