Founder, husband, and father of two, Kalvin Bridgewater, turned his own struggles with postpartum depression, isolation, and new fatherhood into Daddy Stroller Social Club, a brotherhood that gives Black dads space to talk, heal, and show up for one another. In a Father’s Day feature for BET.com, the founder reflects on his journey, his mission, and what support looks like in real life.

When Kalvin Bridgewater first became a father, he expected the usual chaos: sleepless nights, new routines, and the pressure that comes with caring for a newborn. What he didn’t expect was to feel himself slipping into a place of distance, irritability, and shame — or to wonder whether fathers could experience postpartum depression, too.

Bridgewater, founder of Daddy Stroller Social Club, says the answer changed after honest conversations with his wife, birth workers, and therapists following the birth of his first daughter. 

“We got to speak with the midwife,” he says, and while his wife was sharing her experiences with postpartum depression, a light went off. “I was like, ‘Man, am I going through something similar?’”

Though Bridgewater was still hesitant to name what he was experiencing. He described feeling emotionally detached, overwhelmed, and unsure how to move through fatherhood without a roadmap, especially after growing up without a strong relationship with his own father. 

“I didn’t think dads could really experience postpartum depression. I didn’t know what postpartum depression was,” he says. “It was towards the end of 2019, so we went into [the pandemic], and I’d say COVID-19 is one of the best things that ever happened to our relationship because it allowed us to lock ourselves in the house and have these tough conversations. I remember telling her what I was experiencing.”

Those conversations pushed him to face what he felt head-on and build a space where other dads could do the same.

What began as a few park meetups with friends in 2020 quickly ballooned beyond their neighborhood and soon far beyond the state of Texas. Bridgewater said the group began with four fathers, then expanded into a wider network after his wife, a birth photographer, began posting about the meetups on social media through her robust network of mothers and the birthing community.

The mission was simple: let men talk openly about fatherhood, marriage, stress, and vulnerability without the pressure to perform toughness; something he felt was especially true for Black dads.

“We were raised to be the strongest in the family, to not tell anybody about our weakness or not even show any weakness. Being in a group allowed us to put our guard down and be vulnerable,” he says.

Research has long shown that fathers can experience postpartum depression, and Reuters has reported that roughly one in 10 new dads face it, meaning paternal mental health is a real issue, not a side note.

The group’s early success didn’t come from a marketing gimmick or empty-shell virality, but from men realizing they were not alone — and from their partners and wives quietly signing their husbands up because they recognized the need. 

Bridgewater also emphasizes that Black fathers need more than praise; they need to feel a sense of belonging. They need brotherhood.

After his brother’s untimely passing, he decided to step back and take a break from leading the groups. “I just wanted to take a step back,” he says. “He passed away two or three weeks after my second child was born, and he got to hold her while he was in the hospital. I remember looking into his eyes and seeing him letting me know, ‘Bro, I’m not going to make it much longer.’ So when he passed away, I was like, ‘Yeah, let me go ahead and go into my hole.’”

Though it was at this moment that the grief-stricken older brother understood the scope of what he’d created. 

“We ended up having the funeral in Waco, and 60 dads drove from Dallas to come to the funeral. Imagine me getting up [to the podium] to talk, and I’m looking in the audience and…” he says, with a crack in his voice. That moment is still fresh. “It was all the men I met in these groups. Sixty! I was like, dang!”

Black women are almost 3.5 times more likely than white women to die around the time of childbirth, according to Federal health data. Data also shows that paternal involvement is “directly correlated with better outcomes,” the AP reports. 

Bridgewater’s experience reflects a tender and very real image of what fatherhood looks like: men showing up for diaper changes, therapy sessions, park walks, grief, playdates, and late-night conversations about identity and mental health.

Bridgewater recognizes the balance between strength and softness well. He said his own growth came through counseling, marriage work, and learning that being open is not a weakness. That shift, he says, helped him become a better man.

“Look, I was never this open. I give all the praise to my wife. She’s not going to accept anything that she doesn’t want to accept. And being open and being vulnerable is something that she needed from me,” he says.  

“Going through couples counseling, it helped us so much to be open and talk, and going to counseling and motivating each other to seek therapy because we’re still dealing with all types of childhood trauma that leads into us as adults,” he says.

This also became the backbone of Daddy Stroller Social Club’s programming, which includes virtual check-ins, therapist-led conversations, and fatherhood events designed to help men step into vulnerability without losing pride.

“You just don’t go to the doctor whenever you’re feeling down or when you’re sick. You get these checkups to prevent other things from happening. You have to do that for your mental health, too,” he shares.

As Father’s Day approaches, Bridgewater plans to keep things simple. But even that low-key celebration fits the spirit of his organization, which he’s also focused on expanding through wellness retreats globally. A fitting evolution for the founder who is also a personal trainer. 

“We are planning to collaborate on a wellness retreat for families to take them back to Africa,” he says. “One of our clients moved to Kigali and asked us to come out there. We turned into a family trip, and fell in love with it so much. We realized a lot of Black Americans have never been to Africa.”

In the meantime, he’s all about fatherhood and community; about showing up, speaking honestly, and building a table where Black dads can be seen.