Opinion: My mother taught me the value of self-respect and family. She can teach a Master Class in humility.

Jones-Wright is executive director of Community Advocates for Just and Moral Governance. She lives in Encanto.

My mother is my life source, not only because she literally gave me life but because I am who I am because of her.

At a young age, I decided I would become a lawyer. My mother, who raised me as a single parent and who never walked a college campus, took every step with me to college, then to law school and beyond.

I was an avid reader as a child, so my mother would buy me books to feed my mind. She never missed a spelling bee, science fair, speech or parent-teacher conference. The only Black lawyer I saw, albeit fictional, was Clair Huxtable. And because I needed to see myself as a lawyer, my mother bought me suits just like Mrs. Huxtable.

My mother is a great cook. She makes the best soul food: fried green tomatoes, hot water cornbread, collard greens, smothered potatoes, and baked, barbecue, fried, and smothered chicken. As kids, when we would ask for fast food, she’d respond with her constant refrain (common among old school Black mothers, I’m sure): “I can make that at home.” And she did. And it was always good! She did not believe in fast food, so she mastered it all from homemade pizzas to burgers and fries.

I remember helping her make pastrami sandwiches with all the fixins on Sub Night. Every Tuesday was Taco Night. (My oldest sister still jokes that she grated so much cheese as a child that she only buys shredded cheese.) Even now, when I eat a dish my mom makes, I always say, “Nobody makes this like my mother.” And I mean it.

I still remember our school day morning routine. I would sit between my mother’s legs as she combed my hair. A tub full of the most colorful barrettes, ballies and ribbons for my ponytails sat next to her on the couch. We’d watch “Little House on the Prairie” as I ate the coffee cake she made for me. Then she’d walk me up the hill to Knox Elementary.

My mother is fun. I remember playing “Soul Train” with her and my sisters. We’d dress up and go down our apartment’s long hallway dancing to music.

My mother taught me the value of self-respect and family. She can teach a Master Class in humility. My mother never brags, she just does what needs to be done. Growing up, I watched her open our home to kids who needed a place to stay or just a good meal.

My mother has a quiet strength and understands sacrifice. I watched my mother work tirelessly as a senior custodian at UC San Diego Medical Center for 25 years. I watched her strike with her union AFSCME 3299 during those years and fight for fair contracts and workers’ rights and dignity. She taught me to always stand strong for what I believe in. Even when she was preparing for retirement, she fought for workers after her.

I am who I am today because of my mother. That’s why all that I do is dedicated to her. My life’s work is a tribute to her. Every diploma carries her name. Every one of my achievements is hers.

I love you, Mom.

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