On a warm Saturday morning in March, while the 20-something influencers and young finance bros of Williamsburg were still asleep, a group of more than 30 men gathered in McCarren Park.
Some were coming from as far as the Catskills and others from a few steps away. Greetings transitioned to talk of sleep training and stroller envy, and the bonding happened quickly. After all, they all had one major thing in common: babies. “How old is yours?” they asked one another as the group grew.
Benjamin Velez, 32, jogged up to the crowd with his 1-year-old daughter, Wynter, fresh from working an overnight shift as a switchboard operator and receptionist. One of the other men commented on the Monster energy drink in his stroller, and Mr. Velez pointed out that it also contained coffee.
Victor Ayala, 36, a quality control inspector, and his 2-year-old, Cassius, pulled up to the park in an Uber from Cobble Hill. The pair was praised for their style: Mr. Ayala was wearing a jersey, a white canvas jacket with black stripes, yellow sneakers and a Brooklyn Stroll Club hat. Cassius was kicking back in a Bape x Airbuggy stroller that his dad’s friend had shipped from Japan.
As the group prepared to take a lap around the park before heading to Canopy, a Williamsburg play space for children ages four and under, Calvin Eng, 30, the chef and owner of the Cantonese restaurant Bonnie’s and author of “Salt Sugar MSG,” joined the pack with his 2½-year-old son, Levi. He was greeted by Joe Gonzales, 32, who treated him like they’d known each other for years, except it was their first time meeting.
Walking, after all, is what the Brooklyn Stroll Club does best. The group was started in October by Mr. Gonzales, a senior producer at a creative agency and first-time father to a 10-month-old son named Sol.
“Moms have been holding it down for so long and are so great at building community,” Mr. Gonzales said. “I didn’t have a lot of dad friends in New York, and I really wanted to connect with people who were going through a similar experience,” he added.
The group has grown into a community of dads who have actually become friends. And the buzz is growing.
“When Joe releases an event, it’s like a sneaker drop,” said Colin Rocker, a 28-year-old content creator and the father of a 9-month-old son named Isaiah, adding that he had not been able to snag the free tickets for the February meetup.
In the colder months, the dads had to get creative and gather indoors, but with an indoor space came limited capacity. Mr. Gonzales shares the events on a Discord channel he created with more than 1,000 members, and when the 50 tickets are released at noon, there’s a mad dash to snatch them up.
Everyone was on time, a notable feat when you’re dealing with getting a child out the door. The dads cross the street in a herd of about 35 babies and men, swapping stories about what their partners are up to that morning. Somehow, no meltdowns had occurred. Yet.
The line to get into Canopy almost wrapped around the block. “We used to wait in line to get into the club,” remarked Mike McGlarkner, a 38-year-old construction flagger from Harlem, there with his 2-year-old son, Jackson, to the dad behind him. Slowly, the dads and their children pile into the elevator.
Once they’re checked in, dads and children removed their shoes. A pair of baby Air Jordans are tucked inside an adult pair.
Mr. Rocker, the 28-year-old content creator, feels like a young dad by city standards. “In New York, having a baby at 28 is a teen pregnancy,” he said, adding that none of his friends are currently sharing his experience. Nearby, Samuel Ourlicht, a 28-year-old father to a 1½-year-old daughter, Zuriah, who lives in the South Bronx and works in a cookie shop, related.
“I was looking for something like this, but I didn’t think I’d be able to find it, and then I found Joe on Instagram,” Mr. Rocker said, sitting on a couch under a bookshelf while Isaiah slept on his chest. “The kid can’t hang,” he joked. By the windows, some dads took a break to feed their children a snack.
Luis Cisneros, a 34-year-old small business owner who says he “waited” to have children, sat on the floor with his son Noah, who took his very first steps that morning. And a few feet away, past a rocking horse and conversations about “Bluey” and “Miss Rachel,” Rene Jimenez, 31, the assistant dean of students at the Dalton School, balanced his 19-month-old daughter, Aubrey, on his hip.
“Fatherhood was a very isolating experience at first,” he said, and a nearby dad nodded in agreement. Mr. Jimenez had traveled from East Harlem for the meetup.
“To be in a community with other men who are trying to figure out how to be really good dads and break cycles that have been repeated for years — it’s really important,” he said.
As the inevitable silent countdown to sleepy temper tantrums began, the buzz of the play space shifted to a bright, airy side room. Eganam Segbefia, a trumpet player known as ÉGO, broke out his instrument to wrap up the festivities.
While his typical gig involves playing at halftime during Knicks games at Madison Square Garden, on this day he played songs like “Bare Necessities” from “The Jungle Book” and “Under the Sea” from “The Little Mermaid.”
There was a lot of dancing, plenty of smiles and before long, some tears. After a long day, the children needed a nap. The dads, fighting off their own yawns and heavy eyelids, silently agreed they could use one, too.
