The Vanishing Act: Why Black Fathers in Media Still Seem Like Ghosts

by Dr. Janice Kelly, Dr. David C. Miller, and Dr. Jeffrey Shears, Fellows at the Moynihan Institute for Fatherhood Research and Policy

“I sat my son down in front of the TV the other day, and after a while, he turned to me and said, ‘Daddy, why don’t they show us?’” That story, shared by a father during “Can You See Me Now? A Closer Examination of Black Fathers in Television Commercials,” a recent Moynihan Institute for Fatherhood Research and Policy webinar, stopped the conversation in its tracks. 

It’s the kind of question that catches in your throat, forcing you to wrestle with an answer that shouldn’t need to exist. 

Black fathers are present. They are engaged. They are leading, nurturing, and sacrificing. But in the world of television commercials — the tiny, curated windows into American life — they remain elusive, flickering into view only to disappear quickly.

“We have data, we have lived experience, and we have stories that tell us Black fathers are actively involved in their children’s lives. So why does advertising keep ignoring the truth?” asked one panelist, shaking his head in frustration.

The question is more than rhetorical. It reflects a persistent problem in media representation, a failure of the industry to tell a story that aligns with reality. Despite research showing that Black fathers spend as much (if not more) time with their children than fathers of other races, they are still more likely to be portrayed as absent, uninvolved, or, at best, comedic.

The Stereotype Economy

Advertising isn’t just about selling products; it’s about selling ideas. And for generations, the media has profited off the narrative of the missing Black father.

“The absent Black father is an old, well-worn story,” another speaker at the webinar noted. “It’s easy to fall back on, easy to use as a shorthand for struggle. But when does easy become lazy? When does lazy become dangerous?”

It’s not just the exclusion of Black fathers that’s troubling — it’s the intentionality behind it. Who sits in the rooms where ad campaigns are crafted? Who decides which families are reflected back to millions of viewers? And more importantly, who notices when Black fathers are missing?

As one of our panelists bluntly put it: “If you’re not in the room, you’re not in the conversation. And if you’re not in the conversation, you don’t exist.”

The result? A cycle where media erasure fuels real-world bias. When Black fathers are continually portrayed as unreliable, disconnected, or nonexistent, those perceptions seep into policy, employment, and social interactions. The stereotype becomes self-sustaining, shaping everything from courtroom decisions on child custody to the way employers perceive Black men’s reliability.

The Rare Glimpse of Truth

Of course, there are exceptions. A commercial breaks the mold now and then — a father tucking his children in at night, teaching them how to ride bikes, holding them close with quiet, unspoken love. But these moments, rather than being the norm, feel like anomalies.

“When we do see a Black father on screen, it’s almost like seeing a shooting star,” one participant remarked. “You hold your breath because you don’t know when you’ll see it again.”

This scarcity makes representation feel performative. Instead of depicting Black fathers as an ordinary, everyday reality, they are inserted sparingly, strategically, and often in ways that feel like a marketing ploy rather than an honest reflection of family life.

And even when they appear, there’s an unspoken limit to how much space they can occupy. “If you see a Black dad in a commercial, notice how often he’s in the background,” a panelist pointed out. “His kids are front and center, or maybe the mother. But he’s rarely the focal point. He’s there, but not really there.”

Breaking the Cycle

So, where do we go from here? How do we dismantle a narrative that has been built over decades? The answer, as expressed by many in the Moynihan Institute discussion, lies in ownership, accountability, and pressure.

Advertisers must be held accountable for their choices. Viewers must be willing to call out brands that ignore Black fatherhood. And Black creators, writers, and marketers must be given the power to tell their own stories, shaping narratives that reflect the full spectrum of Black fatherhood — not just its struggles but its triumphs, tenderness, and complexity.

“This isn’t about being seen for the sake of being seen,” one speaker emphasized. “It’s about truth. It’s about making sure our kids grow up seeing themselves fully, not as myths, not as missing, but as whole.”

Representation isn’t just about media. It’s about shaping how we see ourselves—and how the world sees us. And to the question posed by that father’s young son—“Daddy, why don’t they show us?”—the only real answer should be:

“They will.”

If we demand it. If we refuse to be erased. If we make the world see us, not just in flashes and glimpses, but fully and completely.

Because we are here. We have always been here. And we are not going anywhere.

We invite you to watch “Can You See Me Now? A Closer Examination of Black Fathers in Television Commercials” in full on our YouTube channel.