Whereas the mother archetype has been extensively studied, the father figure has not been given much attention. The “father” doesn’t just refer to the masculine authority figure so present in our larger society—that is, as an imposing institutional force or an all-seeing, all-powerful deity. Perhaps, as scholars of folk religion have pointed out, God the father is not merely a projection of masculine dominance in the sense that the human father must be deified—rather, God the distant creator must be humanized by becoming a part of the family.
Types of Fathers
In Filipino psychology, there are said to be four types of fathers1:
The Procreator simply makes children, caring very little about who they are, except as extensions of himself. He sees himself merely as a provider, and his priority is to achieve a sense of personal immortality.
The Dilettante spends very little time with their children yet creates deep bonds with them. This is not necessarily a personal choice; sometimes the family’s interest is at heart, as for example when the father must spend more time at work to send money back home.
The Determinative is one who sees fatherhood as a task or obligation: it is a job above all things. This father tends to be controlling, and while he may still want the best for his children, they are treated less like humans and more like animals to be trained. The child is a project, and so their accomplishments are his own.
The Generative father is one who sees parenthood as an opportunity for personal transformation as well as a chance to move beyond oneself. The child is not simply an extension of himself but a manifestation of his own self-actualization. He doesn’t control the child, but allows them to grow within a structure that ensures their nourishment. Above all else, the role is focused more towards the fulfillment of potential.
Aspects of Fatherhood
A 2018 study let 50 Filipino fathers draw their experience of fatherhood.2 This study showed that fatherhood has three main aspects.
It is identity-defining. Having a child strengthens a man’s resolve and inspires him to dream big for his family—here we see the sturdiness of a wall and the height and resilience of a bamboo.
It is maturity-enabling. Fathers who acknowledge their imperfections (like pencils with erasers) can allow themselves to be moulded by their experiences (like clay).
It is duality-affirming. The father embraces their role as their children’s guide and comfort (like light bulbs and pillows) as well as the family’s protector and decision-maker (like a raincoat and car driver).
The fathers also see themselves as trees that bear fruit, which eventually ripen and separate from him.
Masculinity and Spirituality
Our macho culture promotes the idea of “pagkalalaki” (masculinity) as one who dominates and controls, by force and reckless honesty. This is largely influenced by the mandirigma (warrior) archetype so heavily present in media, popularly portrayed by the likes of Fernando Poe Jr. and, today, Coco Martin. Influential public figures have used the mandirigma archetype to mythologize themselves. It is, to many people, amusing and, in some ways, comforting to have a strong macho figure who is ready to fight if someone looks at them wrong. We like to imagine ourselves avenged by the mandirigma—and in fact, the main narrative of our action movies are revenge fantasies. But the mindless aggression misses the point. The mandirigma isn’t just hunting bad guys down for the thrill of it—he is driven by the tragedy of his family’s unjust death, and the entire movie is his attempt to ensure that no one else suffers the same fate. (So often these old movies start with a shootout at a wedding or the death of the protagonist’s child.) In other words, the mandirigma protects the vulnerable and it is through his own vulnerability that he finds strength. The mandirigma is not the lone gunman of western cinema who is motivated by an inner sense of adventurous ambition and transactional morality. He is, rather, defined by what he has lost, by the people he loves, by what connects him to the world—that is, his family.
The common image of the Filipino family is that the mother is the light (ilaw ng tahanan) whereas the father is the sturdy structure (haligi ng tahanan). We know of course that there are many kinds of families, and many forms of successful parenthood. What I am talking about here is the archetypal imagery so embedded in our culture, of the dreamy familial ideal. Michael Fast observed that the haligi-ilaw dichotomy shows how the mother is seen mainly as the spiritual guiding light of the family.3 However, the father as the haligi doesn’t simply mean that he is relegated to the background, setting the limits of where the light can reach—rather, he is what grounds the family and protects the light of spirit from being blown out by the unpredictable weather.
A.L. Tan, Four Meanings of Fatherhood (Philippine Journal of Psychology vol. 22, 1989).
N.J.E. Villamor, A.B. de Guzman, E.T. Matienzo, Look Who is Talking Now: Eliciting the Concept of Fatherhood Among Filipino Fathers Using Metaphor Analysis (The Journal of Nursing Research, vol. 26, no. 1, 2018).
M.J. Fast, Pagkalalake at Maka-Diyos: Understanding the Filipino Family Through the Lenses of Masculinity and Religiosity (Asian Studies: Journal of Critical Perspectives, vol. 58, no. 2, 2022).