When Clint enrolled in the Parent Mentor program, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He’d turned a corner in recovery but still had a long path ahead of him to reunify with his children. So, when his assigned Parent Mentor knocked on his door, he was very confused. Standing on his doorstep was Darren, an old friend Clint had previously used drugs with.
“What are you doing here?” Clint asked.
“Well,” said Darren. “I’m your Parent Mentor.”
More than anything previously in his recovery, that opened Clint’s eyes to the trajectory his life might take. Here was someone who’d been in the exact situation as him. They had even once been arrested together, cuffed and piled into separate police cars. Yet, here Darren stood, doing extremely well. Clint remembers being impressed by the car he drove up in, complete with a new sound system. Darren was employed with steady work as a Parent Mentor, and – as Clint later learned – he now had custody of and was raising his two kids. Clint couldn’t help but ask how Darren got there, when they’d both been in such a dark place together.
“Maybe I could come inside first,” said Darren.
That first day Darren shared the outline of his journey, a blueprint of sorts. Clint recalls that he had largely run out of trust at that point in his life, after a long journey through various systems. But here, finally, was someone he could put his trust in. Someone who had the same experience as him who he could relate to as a peer. After all, the last time Clint had seen him, they’d both been staring at the flashing lights of a police siren. Clint just had to understand how Darren had gone from that rock bottom moment to here, employed and raising his children. Darren had accomplished what Clint most wanted.
Darren was Clint’s Parent Mentor for around a year. Unlike anyone else he’d worked with, Clint got to be totally honest with him. He trusted and took every suggestion Darren had and wanted more. He could see the path forward.
Fast forward to now, and Clint has reached the place he longed for. He is now a Parent Mentor himself, doing the same work for others that Darren did for him, while raising his two daughters and his niece. These days, Clint’s caseload consists of supporting twelve dads working through recovery and towards family reunification. A standard Monday for him involves reaching out to each of his dads, checking in, and confirming their appointments for the week. He likes to have scheduled, recurring appointments to build consistency. Then he drives out to see them one by one, no matter where they are – both physically and mentally.
Clint likes to work on goals the parents set for themselves. He emphasizes that he doesn’t like to push his dads, preferring to slowly build their trust through being a reliable presence. Many of the dads he works with have experienced significant trauma, so meeting them on that level as someone who has been through a lot of trauma himself is always a huge piece for him. When they’re ready to hear, he tells them about his own journey to recovery.
Clint relates that a lot of his work isn’t flashy; just helping with mundane tasks and being a steady presence. His dads might disagree on that note. In just the same way that Darren’s experience served as a blueprint for him, Clint now shows other dads the pathway to a different life.
Once he’s built that crucial rapport and trust, Clint says his dads naturally start asking more questions. They get interested in how Clint – a person who has experienced the same struggles as they have – got to where he is today. Underlying it all is a simple ‘How.’ How did you do it? Clint emphasizes that he is no different than them, even now. In his own words, “He’s just a struggling dad who’s here to help them get systems out of their life.” His example is simply meant to show them a path forward and inspire their curiosity. That same curiosity he felt when Darren showed up at his door, so changed from how he remembered him and raising his two kids.
By now, you might have guessed that Clint’s passion is working with dads. Through his time interacting with judicial and welfare systems and becoming the custodial parent of his children, he couldn’t help but feel boxed out. When organizations or systems said ‘family,’ he couldn’t help but feel that they didn’t really mean him. They meant mothers and children, but they didn’t mean fathers. Especially when it related to recovery from substance use disorder.
By Clint’s estimate, there are around 375 inpatient substance use disorder (SUD) beds in Oregon for mothers in recovery where they can bring their children with them. There are just 10 such beds for dads. Clint emphasizes that this support is vital, because it allows parents to recover without losing connection to their kids. Similarly, in the Portland Metro area alone, there are at least five facilities for mothers in recovery. Yet in the entire country, there is not a single facility like this for dads. Not one.
Everywhere Clint looked, organizations and systems were talking about family preservation and the importance of it. And yet, Clint often felt dads were left behind. Even now, there is no infrastructure for dads to recover and be parents. The support simply isn’t there for them to succeed. Clint reports that many of the dads he works with express that they felt defeated from the beginning. That they were already counted out, and there was little to no support to reconnect with or be supported in caring for their children.
Part of the problem, Clint explains, is that there’s not a whole lot of data on fathers. Domestic violence statistics are collected on fathers, but little else. He wants to focus on how to give a real, full truth to fatherhood and show the capacity of men to be caregivers. Clint describes himself as “just a guy that raises three little girls. To believe that I can only be a provider but not a nurturer is absolute nonsense. Dads shouldn’t be a second choice, just like moms shouldn’t be a second choice. We can both be first choices.”
Clint is currently raising three girls – his two biological daughters and his niece. Clint’s goal has always been to take care of his girls. When asked about the most impactful things he learned while going through the Parent Mentor Program, he cited a parenting class where he learned to play the way children play. He had always thought that Barbies were made for playing house and dress up, but it turns out his daughter just wanted to use them for nerf gun target practice. So that’s what they did. He learned to play the way they wanted to play, allowing them to have their own minds, make their own decisions, and to learn from their mistakes and celebrate when they succeed. He meets his daughters where they’re at – a common thread in Clint’s approach to people. That’s exactly what he does with his dads as a Parent Mentor. He doesn’t try to rush them or expect them to be somewhere they aren’t. He offers understanding and acceptance no matter where a person is in life, a kindness not always shown by systems that often feel like they demand perfection.
More than anything, Clint sees his success in fatherhood. His children truly like him; they want to be around him and include him in their lives. They include him for the major events, and there was a time he didn’t think that was possible. Two of his girls recently had their high school prom, but they wouldn’t go buy their dresses unless he helped pick them out. “Those are priceless things that I cherish,” says Clint. “After dress shopping, my daughters were sending me pictures of them inside the dance in real time. That they wanted to do that and share those moments in such a kind way with their dad is priceless. You hear people say things like, ‘oh I’m not your friend I’m your parent.’ I think that’s nonsense. Those are my best friends.”
Clint’s advocacy is born from that joy. He feels so strongly about giving everyone an opportunity to be part of their children’s life. He just wants to see other dads experience that same gift.
To that end, Clint wants to see services and agencies more willing and capable of providing for fathers’ needs just as they do for mothers. He wants dads to feel unquestionably included in the umbrella of ‘family.’
Clint serves as a member of the Father’s Advisory Board that provides input to ODHS Child Welfare leadership and frontline workers. They are having a summit soon for the West coast, hosted by Oregon. It’s a long-standing event where Clint hopes to drum up more support for dads. His ultimate dream is to open the first recovery facility for dads. He estimates that of the twelve dads he works with, at least eight would be ready and willing to go to that facility for care. And that’s just from his caseload alone. There are so many more dads across Oregon and the country that could significantly benefit from programs designed to support them not only in recovery but with their parenthood in mind. It’s a much-needed gap in service that seems grossly obvious to Clint, and yet so little has happened to remedy that gap. He hopes that will change someday very soon.
As Clint always says, GO DADS!
