Papa School, Where Dads Learn to Show Up!

I was watching The Lion King recently.

I’d seen it before, of course. But this time, when Mufasa dies saving Simba, I broke down.

I never recall it being so sad.
But fatherhood has changed me.

Men being selfish is no mystery. We see it every day.
But men being sacrificial—willing to lay down his life for another? That’s the mystery.

Biology tries to explain it away:

“It’s just survival of the fittest…an animal instinct to pass on our DNA.”

But I’m not convinced.
I personally don’t care if my DNA ends with me.
I’d rather live another day (or to a ripe old age!) than sacrifice my life.
My survival, not my sacrifice, is what makes sense rationally.

And yet…something deeper, more mysterious, more divine…pulls fathers to sacrifice anyway.

The Father Wound

I once heard a story from a prison guard.

On Mother’s Day, lines would stretch long—men waiting for the chance to write cards and send gifts to their moms.
But on Father’s Day?
Nothing.

Growing up in the church, I remember people who said they “hated God.” But dig deeper, and what they really had was a broken relationship with their earthly fathers.

It makes you wonder:

“Perhaps some of those tough prisoners wouldn’t have been so tough—or so broken—if their fathers had been present.”

Fatherhood matters. Anyone who has had a child knows the importance of a father’s presence—his loving presence—in a child’s life.

A bad father can really mess things up.

My Papa

I’m in Korea right now, flying through. It’s always a smashing pleasure to be here (if you haven’t been, you MUST visit!). This is my father’s homeland.

My grandfather was the traditional post-war, post-occupation type of Korean-Japanese (it’s complicated) man: stoic, stern, unbending.

But my father made a conscious choice to break the pattern. He chose to be warm, soft, and deeply present for his sons (he had zero daughters…sad story for another time).

That decision probably… no, definitely… changed my destiny.

As a kid, I was silently confused why some of my friends hated their old man so much. It made no sense to my young brain.

The stark contrast in our experiences made me pay attention. And now, when I see signs that Korean society is beginning to shift—more and more fathers becoming like my dad (and not like my friends’ dads)—I can’t help but feel hope.

Papa School

During this Korea visit, I learned about Papa School, a fatherhood workshop in Seoul created by UN Women and Root Impact. Its mission is simple but radical:

Encourage and equip fathers to show up more actively at home—not just with money, but with heart.

At Papa School, dads:

• Reflect on what it really means to be a father
• Practice empathy by role-playing as their children
• Learn to manage emotions, communicate openly, and connect deeply

One father said it was the first time he realized his son was lonely, even though they lived under the same roof. Another said he finally hugged his daughter—and felt her hug him back.

For men raised to believe their worth at home is measured only in money? This is transformation.

What Makes a Good Father?

To be clear, a good father isn’t necessarily a man who cries at Disney movies. Emotional sensitivity has its place, but it’s not the whole picture.

For me, being a father is more about showing up—every single day. And I don’t always get it right.

Like right now. I’m trying to write this newsletter, but my toddlers keep barging in—climbing on my lap, pulling me away from they keyboard again and again.

My wife helps, of course. But even she can’t run defense against two toddlers by herself.

So I do my best.

“Hey guys, daddy has to finish some work. Then I’ll go swimming with you, okay?”

It’s not perfect, but I’m slowly learning that fatherhood requires both:

• Saying No and keeping it No.
• Saying Yes and keeping it Yes.

A good father is discipline and grace.
Love and strength.

I’m beginning to see that this is the paradox of fatherhood: strong enough to set boundaries, soft enough to embrace.

Most days, I’m just trying to practice it in the little moments—like right here at my desk. And boy…do I get it wrong sometimes (like when I lock the door and stew in passive-aggressive silence).

A Word to Mothers

I don’t write this just for dads. Mothers—you carry enormous influence in how fathers show up. When you encourage them, when you make space for them to try (and even fail), you give them the courage to keep growing.

And fathers—let’s not hide behind long hours or old traditions. The mystery of fatherhood is too beautiful, too sacred, to sit on the sidelines.

If Mufasa could give his life for Simba, we can certainly give our presence, our embrace, our Yes’s and our No’s, to our children today.