By Staff
To know Steven Beck is to witness a man deeply committed to fatherhood—not just in title, but in action, presence, and purpose. As a young father who embraced the role with open arms, Steven has consistently prioritized love, accountability, and spiritual grounding in raising his daughter Nixon. Whether he’s navigating the complexities of co-parenting, teaching life lessons rooted in identity and pride, or showing up to every recital and volleyball game, Steven leads with heart, honesty, and humility. His journey as a father is a testimony to what it means to raise a child with intention—shaping not only her future, but his own character in the process.
Can you describe the moment you first became a father and what emotions you experienced?
When I watched my daughter come into the world in 2013, the feeling that overtook me was pure, overwhelming excitement. The moment she was placed in my arms, I locked eyes with her and just studied her face—this beautiful little person I helped create. After nine months of anticipation filled with questions, anxiety, and hope, everything just melted away in those first few moments. All I felt was a deep, unconditional love. It was like time paused, and all that mattered was the life I now held in my hands.
What does fatherhood mean to you—not just the title, but the responsibility and the legacy?
Fatherhood, to me, means being Nixon’s first experience of what love looks and feels like from a man. It’s my duty to show up in a way that makes her feel protected—physically, mentally, and spiritually. I’m responsible for helping her build her moral compass: teaching her integrity, empathy, self-worth, kindness, and respect. I have to be her safe space, her foundation, and a constant reminder that she is deeply valued and supported as she grows into her own person.
In what ways has becoming a father changed you as a man?
Becoming a father at 21 gave me a new sense of purpose—it lit a fire under me. I suddenly had someone whose life would be directly impacted by every choice I made. While I didn’t always make the perfect decisions, especially while still growing into myself, I’ve never wavered in making sure her needs were met. Nixon inspires me to become the best version of myself. She’s taught me patience, accountability, and, most importantly, what it truly means to love someone unconditionally.
What do you find most fulfilling about being a father?
The most fulfilling part of fatherhood is watching Nixon grow into herself. To witness her go from being completely dependent on me to gradually stepping into her independence is a beautiful thing. I love seeing her laugh, watching how she handles challenges, and being there for the million questions she asks. Every shift in her personality, every new interest—it’s all a front-row seat to who she’s becoming, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
How do you show love and affection to your children, and how did you learn that language of love?
I’ve always made it a point to love Nixon out loud. I end every call with “I love you,” attend every recital and father-daughter dance, and make sure that even when we’re apart, she feels my presence. I didn’t have the closest relationship with my own father growing up, and I promised myself my children would never question my love. I learned how to love from my mother, Wanda. She’s been my constant, never letting me feel misunderstood or alone—even when we didn’t always see eye to eye. That’s the kind of love I want Nixon to always carry with her.
What are some of the challenges you face as a Black father in today’s world? How do you teach your children about identity, pride, and navigating the world as a Black child?
One of my biggest responsibilities is helping Nixon understand her identity in a world that often wants to define her for her. Her mother comes from a predominantly white background, and with Nixon’s lighter skin and finer hair, society may not always view her as a Black girl—but that’s what she is, and I make sure she understands the beauty and power in that. I encourage her to embrace her full identity, but never to shy away from her Blackness. It’s not just about cultural pride—it’s about survival, legacy, and knowing who you are in a world that sometimes won’t.
Can you share a time when you felt especially proud as a father?
One moment that really stands out was a recent trip to Phoenix. Nixon had both a viola recital and a volleyball game in the same weekend. Watching her perform with confidence in both spaces, seamlessly balancing her academics and athletics, showed me she’s stepping into her own. In that moment, I didn’t just see my daughter—I saw a young woman coming into her own, and I couldn’t have been prouder. Moments like that remind me that the foundation we’ve laid is working.
How do you approach discipline, and what values do you hope to instill in your children?
I’ve taken on the role of disciplinarian, but not in a way that involves yelling or physical punishment. I believe when you raise a child with respect, you don’t need fear to get their attention. Nixon knows that her name and her character mean everything. She doesn’t like letting us down, and she understands the weight of her actions. I want her to always feel heard, even in correction, and to know that love isn’t withdrawn when she makes mistakes. Discipline is about guiding, not controlling.
How do you stay mentally and emotionally well while being a father, partner, and provider?
My mental and emotional well-being is rooted in faith. I lean on prayer in times of uncertainty, and I try to create space to process whatever I’m going through. I’ve passed that on to Nixon as well. I want her to have her own relationship with God, to know that she can turn to faith for strength just like I do. That spiritual grounding keeps me centered, especially when life gets overwhelming.
What’s one thing you hope your children remember most about their childhood with you?
More than anything, I hope Nixon remembers that she was loved—deeply and unconditionally. That no matter what, we created a home full of love and laughter, even during tough times. I want her to look back and know she was never alone, that she always had me.
If you only could say one thing to your child knowing that you would never see them again, what would that be?
Thank you. My life will always hold value because I got to be your dad.
