Father's Day usually occurs on my birthday, which is both exciting and a little bit sad. With each birthday, I feel like I'm on a slow ship to an unforeseen destination, with each birthday reminding me that I've passed another landmark. I keep wondering why birthdays show up around the same time every year, and I'm still hopeful that the trend will discontinue at some point. Wait, let me rephrase that.....if my birthdays stop coming then I'll be, well..... you know.

At any rate, when my birthday hits, doubled-up with Father's Day, I am led to evaluate my life and myself. I evaluate my life to see if I am the same man this year that I was last year; the truth is that I should have grown in some meaningful way or achieved something positive. I also evaluate myself as a father to see if I am getting at least a little bit better at making myself the kind of man that my kids need me to be.

In round one of fatherhood, I made quite a few mistakes. I had a child at the age of 18, too early to know what the heck I was doing or to afford the massive amounts of child support I would pay for the next 18 years. I always advise young men to think twice before putting themselves in situations where they may be asked to do things they are not able to do. I also learned first hand the challenges of finding space in the life of a child that doesn't live with you: There were barriers built that I tried my best to overcome, and I admit that I have not yet been successful. There's always hope that next year will be better than the last one when it comes to creating those critical connections.

Along the way, I also developed my own philosophy about "the village" raising our kids. As a father who never really got the opportunity to be in the life of my own child, I "adopted" some kids along the way, in part because I've always had a strong paternal instinct. My own father abandoning me at birth, mixed with the inspiration of seeing my step father make up the difference, taught me what a good man is supposed to do for the children in his life. My kids are not little side projects, or people that I consider to be a fractional part of my existence, they are actually MY KIDS: when its time for college, I get them ready. When they mess up, I threaten to whack em upside the head. When they have dating problems, I explain that all men are dogs (just kidding, but not really). The point is that I've always felt the need to work harder each year to become a little bit better at my job than I was the year before. Parenthood is a thankless job, but one that requires us as Americans to grow out of the selfishness we adopted in the 1980s.

All of this leads to my key point: You don't have to have a child in order to be a parent. There are millions of black children without fathers to guide and support them. When these children cross our paths, we should be ready to step in and fill the shoes of someone who might have been unable or unwilling to do their job. One of my greatest pet peeves in the world are people who can love their own children to death, but not give a rat's butt about someone else's child. Every young person is deserving of our love, and we should willingly share it. If you're in a relationship with someone who has children, then you're now a surrogate parent. When I coached kids in my hometown of Louisville, KY, I knew that if a kid didn't have money for a uniform, I had to go into my pocket to get it. If they were hungry, it was my job to feed them, no questions asked.

The village must come together to take care of those kids who've slid through the cracks. Also, when we see a child who remains unloved, it is O.K. for us to love that child as if he/she were our own. That child's presence in your space is God's mandate for you to give the love you are required to give. As Curtis Blow once said, "A child is born with no state of mind, blind to the ways of mankind." This rapper's words remind us that when children come into this world, they are not completely clear about which adults are supposed to care about them and which ones are not. If they're lucky, they've got a mother and father doing their jobs. If they find that one or both of their parents are unavailable, they end up living a confused existence, in which they seek love and support from people who believe that it's not their job to give them anything. I am a believer in allowing a child to think that they have the right to be supported by any adult in the vicinity, that they can ask the nearest grown-up for something to eat, or that they can expect a ride to basketball practice from the man down the street. In other words, I believe in the village, and when that kid steps on my porch for help, I should be ready to help him.

The village is going to be critical to the survival of our community. While there is plenty of talk about black fathers who are not doing their jobs, there should be additional mobilization of those black men who are willing to step up to the plate. If you see a child in need of kind words or encouragement, it is your job to give it to them. If there is a child who might be led astray, we should check in on him/her to make sure they are at least being advised to stay on the right path. If a child's father is AWOL, don't be afraid to give the child a "daddy upgrade" by making yourself even more available than her original dad would have been in the first place. Let's all be a part of that village.

Dr. Boyce Watkins is the founder of the Your Black World Coalition and the author of the new book, "Black American Money." To have Dr. Boyce commentary delivered to your email, please click here.