By Dan Horn
The Cincinnati Enquirer

Ron Langston outside the Unity New Thought Center Friday with sons Ron Jr., 17 (left) and Roderick, 14 (right). (Ernest Coleman photo) | ZOOM |

When he finally sobered up earlier this year, Ronald Langston found himself thinking more and more about his two sons.

He wanted a better relationship with them, but he hardly ever saw them. He was estranged from their mother, he'd spent time in jail for domestic violence and he'd just moved into a homeless shelter in Mount Airy.

He had all but given up when a counselor from the Fatherhood Project stopped by the shelter this summer to talk to the residents.

"Do you want your kids to be like you are now?" the counselor asked.

The question hit Langston hard. He decided then he had to change, if not for his own sake, for his children's.

He took a big step toward that goal Friday night when he graduated with 14 other men from a parenting class at the Fatherhood Project, a non-profit program in Walnut Hills designed to help struggling fathers.

"I didn't know what to do to take care of my family," Langston says now. "They showed me how."

Some of the graduates signed up for the program because they wanted to learn how to talk to their kids, or how to control their tempers. Others, like Langston, hoped to repair relationships that had been strained for years because of drug abuse, alcoholism or divorce.

"It's about taking a look at how you were fathered, and how you can be a better father," says Calvin Williams, the program's director.

The centerpiece of the program is a new, 14-week "nurturing father" class, which covers everything from communication skills to anger management. Langston and the other graduates are the second group of fathers to complete the program.

Several of the graduates came to the ceremony Friday with their children and wives, and some shared stories about their struggle to become better dads.

For Langston, the struggle began almost 10 years ago, when he started drinking and fighting with his wife and sons.

"We used to get along real good, and then something happened," says Langston's oldest son, 17-year-old Ron Jr. "He changed and everything went down from there."

He remembers his dad disappearing for days at a time while he blew his paycheck on booze and drugs. The kids, meanwhile, went without new clothes, shoes and sometimes food.

"He'd drop off five or 10 dollars and then leave," Ron says. "It was hard for a long time."

Langston says he hit bottom earlier this year when he got out of prison and landed in the homeless shelter. That's where he met James Whitfield, the counselor from the Fatherhood Project who spoke to residents about the program.

Langston signed up for the class a few days later. Soon, he was learning about parenting and getting in touch with agencies that could help him and his children.

Representatives from child support enforcement, employment services and housing agencies all work through the program to contact fathers who need help meeting their obligations.

"It's a challenge," Whitfield says. "(The fathers) are dealing with things that make it difficult to be a responsible part of society. And on top of that, they're responsible for children."

The stakes are high, not just for the fathers, but for their families and the rest of society.

Federal statistics show that 40 percent of children growing up without a father in the home have little or no contact with him. And children without fathers are more likely to drop out of high school, go to jail and suffer from behavioral problems.

Langston says he saw some of those problems creeping into the lives of his sons. The boys were unhappy at home, and Ron Jr. dropped out of high school.

But now, Langston says, things are getting better. He says the fatherhood program is the reason why.

"They showed me a lot of positive things," he says. "They showed me how to talk to my kids."

Ron Jr. is back in school and has a part-time job. He says his brother, Roger, is doing better, too.

They used to see their dad a few times a month, mostly by accident when they spotted him on their way to school or just hanging out. Now, though, he visits or calls a couple times a week.

Langston hopes the visits will become more frequent when he moves out of the shelter and into his own apartment in a month or so. "I'm trying to improve myself," he says.

Ron Jr. said he sees improvement every time he visits his dad. He talks to him about school, girls, sports and anything else that comes to mind.

He says it doesn't matter to him what they talk about. The important thing is that they're talking at all.

"I missed how he used to be, how he used to take care of us," Ron Jr. says. "I feel like I got my old dad back."

E-mail dhorn@enquirer.com