By Shirley Mays
My mom was born on March 26, 1925 in Cleveland, Ohio. Her mother was a domestic who cleaned wealthy people’s homes for a living; her father was trained as a mechanic. She was the only girl in a family of 5 boys and grew up during the depression. Mom would tell me how she and her brothers walked downtown with their red wagon to stand in the line for the government food provided to those in need. Her mother was a devoted and life-long Baptist, and their family would spend several days a week at church.
Mom was a petite woman – she would proudly proclaim she was 5’1 and ½ inches tall (I think she really was only about 4’11”). As did many women in her age group, Mom had very strict rules about how I, as a young lady, was to behave. One of her rules necessitated that I never wear shorts when I left our neighborhood; I was always to put my best foot forward when I went out and dress like “a young lady.” Dressing like a young lady also included never wearing hair curlers outside the house. My hair was to be nicely coifed at all times.
Lest you think my life was tough and too perfectionistic, Mom also loved to have fun. She taught me to line dance, to make macaroni and cheese, and to sing along with Michael Bublé. She always wanted to teach me to play bridge, but neither of us ever quite made the time for her to do so. Mom was a social butterfly – she was a Golden Soror (a fifty-year member) of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc (AKA). AKA is the oldest sorority for Black women, founded at Howard University in 1908. It is a sisterhood devoted to both personal development and social and civic engagement. Mom also served as president of our local Jack and Jill chapter. Jack and Jill’s focus is on children – under Mom’s leadership I participated in service projects, educational activities, and legislative initiatives.
Mom lived to be 85 years old, but when she was around 80, she began to exhibit signs of dementia. Watching her lose her ability to speak, to walk, and eventually, to move was a difficult experience. However, she maintained her dignity throughout. Mom refused to use a cane and, for example, would walk with a grocery cart when she went to the grocery store. She was almost regal as she held her head high while leaning on the grocery cart for support. She would strut around the store, her hair nicely done and dressed to the nines.
As we celebrate Women’s History Month, I give honor to the woman who was most influential in my life – my Mom. She loved me, nurtured me, corrected me, and strengthened me. Mom – here’s to you!
