Opinion: Anthony Mackie’s Take on Fatherhood Sparks Debate: Is 'The Man of the House' Mentality Harmful?
There has always been a complicated dynamic when it comes to Black boys being labeled the “man” of the house when their father isn’t around. The same applies to Black girls, who are often deemed the “woman” of the house if their mother is absent. Not only is this expectation damaging, but it also robs Black children of their innocence and the childhood they deserve.
Recently, Anthony Mackie sat down with The Pivot podcast, where the Captain America star broke down his parenting philosophy. He spoke about keeping his kids humble, steering clear of internet fluff, and avoiding trends that could negatively influence them.
Okay, you got me.
He went on, doubling down on his parenting style—emphasizing that despite his fame and success, his kids aren’t exempt from acting right. He shared how his 15-year-old son keeps his younger siblings in check, reminding them not to do anything that would force Mackie to step in and reprimand them.
Still got me on his side. I’m picking up what he’s putting down.
Then, he brings up what he calls “The Death of the American Man.”
Here’s where we lose the plot.
Mackie argues that masculinity has been “killed” in America and that he raises his kids to be young men. But then he adds that whenever he leaves the house, he reminds his eldest son that he’s now “the man” of the house.
And that? That’s where the problem lies.
A 15-year-old doesn’t have the tools to be a man—barely even the tools to be a teenager. That’s a massive weight to place on a child who is still figuring himself out. We’ve seen this narrative play out in film and television for years—young Black boys being forced into manhood too soon. But in reality, that expectation strips them of their childhood. They don’t get to be kids. They don’t get to be carefree. Instead, they’re burdened with a role they’re not equipped to handle.
Mackie continued by describing the pecking order he establishes before heading to bed—making sure his son checks that the lights are off, the doors are locked, and that he understands his responsibility to protect the household, just as Mackie would.
But here’s the thing: you and your child aren’t equals. And when you frame it this way, it reinforces a narrative that sees Black boys and Black men as the same—which they are not.
That’s not building character—that’s stealing innocence.
As Black people, we already know the setup isn’t in our favor—we face more disadvantages than advantages. But we can’t lament our kids “growing up too fast” or “being too grown” while simultaneously placing the weight of adulthood on them. You can’t have it both ways—picking and choosing when a child should “stay in a child’s place” while also expecting them to take on adult responsibilities.
At some point, you have to make a choice. Because once a child starts believing they’re “the man of the house,” that mindset shifts everything. They may begin to challenge you more, feeling emboldened by the responsibility you placed on them. And when that happens, you have to stop and ask yourself—did I give them this power? Did I make them grow up too fast, knowingly or unknowingly?
Social media had mixed reactions to his comments, and that’s fair—because we’re not all supposed to think the same.
It’s absolutely important to raise respectful children who grow into good men. Instilling core values and teaching morality? No argument there. My parents did the same for me and my brother; we are a great example of that.
But one thing that was never up for discussion? Either of us being the “man” of the house. Because we weren’t men—we weren’t equipped for that role.
Now, as an adult, I carry myself as a man while still growing, learning, and sharpening my understanding of the kind of man I want to be in this world. But from birth to 18, 21—whatever age you want to set—you’re not a man. And that’s okay. There’s plenty of time to get there.
I agree with almost everything Mackie shared. But I can disagree with the language he used—and that’s okay, too. The beauty of it all? We can agree to disagree and still respect each other.