Post
On his weekly grocery run, F. W. Amin taps the brim of his Chicago Bears hat with a proud smile — a small reminder of the one thing he saves for himself at the end of every long week. Today, I’m grateful he allowed me to ride along and document his routine, giving me an inside look at what Sundays really look like for a single father of four. As he drives toward the store, the weight of his responsibilities sits beside him, but so does his determination — and that Bears pride that never leaves his head or his heart.
Before we even make it to the store, F. W. Amin begins opening up about what his days really look like. As a part-time local truck driver and an independent contractor on the side, his schedule rarely slows down. He tells me he’s constantly juggling deliveries, school pickups, homework help, and late-night cleaning — all while trying to keep four young lives steady and cared for.
“There are no excuses,” he says firmly, adjusting his keys in his hand as he steps out of the car. “My kids depend on me, so I just get it done. That’s the job.”
The next photos capture him walking through the parking lot, shoulders squared, moving with the steady focus of someone who knows every minute counts. By the time he pushes open the store doors, it’s clear: this weekly run isn’t just shopping — it’s another part of the rhythm that keeps his household moving forward.
Inside the store, I follow F. Amin for a brief moment—just long enough to catch him pausing in the holiday aisle, eyeing a shelf of seasonal chocolates with a soft smile. It’s one of the rare moments today where he looks completely at ease, almost like the weight of fatherhood and work briefly lifts off his shoulders. But out of respect for his privacy and his rhythm, I fall back and let him finish the rest of his shopping without the camera in his face.
As I wait near the end of the aisle, I’m reminded of the article I read earlier about Black fathers navigating systemic challenges in Chicago:
“Amid Systemic Challenges, Black Fathers Find Peer Support in Chicago”
https://news.wttw.com/2025/06/11/amid-systemic-challenges-black-fathers-find-peer-support-chicago
The story mirrors so much of what I’m documenting today. Like the fathers in that article, Mr. Amin carries not just the responsibilities of parenting, but also the expectations, pressures, and sacrifices that come with being a Black single dad in America. Including this connection in my assignment feels important—it shows how his story is part of a much larger, ongoing conversation about fatherhood, resilience, and community.
A few minutes later, he rolls his cart toward the exit—shopping for the week officially complete. But his day is far from over. Next comes cleaning the house, cooking dinner, and making sure everything is in place before the Chicago Bears kick off at 4 p.m. That game is his weekly reward, the moment he finally gets to sit down, breathe, and just be himself.
Before we leave the store, he tells me he’s working on something bigger for the future—plans to grow his income, stabilize his schedule, and build a life where his kids have more than he ever did. “I push them to be better than me,” he says. “That’s the whole point. That’s why I do all this.”
As our time together came to an end, one of Mr. Amin’s daughters peeked around the corner, curious about why her father had been followed by a camera all day. With a shy smile, she came downstairs and asked if she could take a picture too—a moment that showed just how closely his children watch him, admire him, and want to be part of his world. Once the air was cleared and everyone felt comfortable again, I gently asked about the status of the children’s mothers. Mr. Amin declined to answer and chose to keep their identities private, a boundary I fully respected. He did share that everyone is currently in a good place, but he also preferred not to speak on the custody arrangements. That silence wasn’t avoidance—it was protection.
Dinner was finished shortly after, the smell filling the home with warmth after a long day of errands and chores. I could tell he was starting to shift into “game mode,” glancing at the clock as kickoff approached. Not wanting to intrude on his one true moment of relaxation, I wrapped up the interview and thanked him again for opening his world to me.
Later that evening, I followed up with him by message. In true Bears-fan fashion, he let me know the final score: the Chicago Bears fell to the Green Bay Packers, 21–28. Even with the loss, he remained upbeat. For him, football isn’t just entertainment—it’s a reset, a weekly ritual that carries him into another full week of fatherhood, work, and quiet determination.
Allegedly Media 