Jamie Foxx - Act Like You Got Some Sense: And Other Things My Daughters Taught Me

T he first thing I learned about parenting is that the kids aint going nowhere. When Corinne was born, the responsibility smacked me upside the head, made me scared as hell. It dawned on me that this parenting thing is forever. And its not like having a puppythe consequences of messing up are way worse than some shit on the carpet. When you take the kid to school on Monday, you actually have to get up and take them again on Tuesday. Damn, they got to go every day? The things you took for granted when you were a kidlike breakfast, lunch and dinnerthats now on you. No one is coming to make food for them.

But lemme slow down and introduce myself. Hello, my name is Jamie. You may know me from film, television, stand-up comedy, the music world, being famous for my wild parties (which, by the way, are epic)but there are two young girls in my life who dont give a shit about any of that and only know me as Dad. Corinne is now twenty-seven, Anelise is thirteen. They have different mothers (dont judge me and I wont judge you).

Everything I learned about parenting came from Estelle Marie Talley and Mark Talley, the beautiful couple who adopted me at seven months. I consider them my grandparents because (and try to keep up because this story is messy) thirteen years before Mark and Estelle adopted me they had adopted my mother. Mark Talley was an uncle to my mother, Louise, whose family was the Rosebuds. From what I was told, my mothers mother, my biological grandmother, was stressed trying to raise my moms other siblings. Believe me, I know how hard it is raising kids when you have money, and its hard as fuck when you dont. So one day Estelle said to her, I cant have kids because God didnt let me. I always wanted to have kids. Would you allow me to adopt Louise? They agreed. I guess legally my mother is my sisterI know, it sounds like a country-ass Southern thing. But hey, I never married my cousin so, like I said, dont judge me.

My mother was thirteen when she moved to Terrell, Texas, after spending her formative years in Dallas. Terrell was culture shock for her, to say the least. Dallas was a fast-moving citynot LA or New York, but certainly faster than Terrell, with its six stop lights. Though my mother moved begrudgingly, when she got there she was a starbeautiful, talented, charismatic. In high school she was the lead of the majorettes, strutting across the field with all eyes on her. Everybody wanted to be in her world.

But she never really took to Terrell, even though she was a big fish in a small pond. She yearned to get back to the hood in South Dallas, to what she knew. After high school graduation, she fled back there. By the time she turned twenty-six, she had gotten married to a man named Darrell Bishop and gave birth to a bighead boy named Eric Marlon Bishop. That was me. Their marriage didnt work out. My dad converted to Islam while my mother was pregnant, which immediately drove a wedge between them. The people I grew up with didnt have anything against Muslims, they just didnt understand the religionthe only thing they knew about Muslims was bow ties and bean pies. And have you ever been to the South? No disrespect to Muslims or Jews but WE EAT PORK. Pork chops, pork ribsFuck it, we put pork in our whiskey! Oh yeah, thats the other thing. Texans love to drink.

So my mother was having a hard time dealing with thatand now add a newborn into the mix! Her family saw she was overwhelmed and offered lots of help. As a result, in my early months I would spend the majority of time in Terrell with my grandparents, Estelle and Mark. Finally, Estelle said to her daughter, Why dont you let the boy stay here? Soon that turned into, Why dont you let me adopt the boy?