My momma’s been heavy on my mind lately: These winter celebrations of gratitude and giving are my second go-round in her absence, and we’ve recently spent a good bit of time here at UBJ defining our Who’s Who brand, articulating the qualities of the ideal Who’s Who candidate and sorting through nominations.
Upon her passing in March 2012, I told my brother it was important for me to pen a tribute for someone to read at her service.
“Of course,” he said, “I will, too. But I will read my own.”
“How will you be able to do that?!” I asked, astonished. An attorney with his own firm in downtown Greenville, whose passion is arguing cases in a courtroom, he responded, “I don’t know, but she dedicated much of her life and resources to helping me become a professional communicator, so it’s the least I can do to honor her.”
I had recently obtained a master’s degree in professional communication, so I could hardly refuse my brother’s undeniable logic. We both addressed a large crowd of mourners on the many ways our mother shaped us – as people, community participants, academics and professionals.
That day we delivered heartfelt testimonies with nary a tear, and with a level of eloquence and poise only inspired by such an acute and profound realization of legacy. It was beyond evident how our mother, an educator, affected who we are, and our professional identities are a large part of us.
My mother climbed the vocational ladder from English professor to associate provost. She loved to teach others how to write, which is itself a tool of knowledge, discovery, empowerment and self-expression. I would argue there is no greater gift to give than the respect and mastery of language.
A passing in the writing community is, predictably, met with an outpouring of words that are particularly impassioned and poignant, and many contacted us to express their gratitude for her impactful role in their histories.
Gardner-Webb University dedicated the Gayle Bolt Price School of Graduate Studies to her, an honor almost always reserved for past graduates or top-level donors. A scholarship fund was created in her honor. First Baptist Greenville named a Sunday school class and classroom after her.
Then I somehow stumbled into the role of college professor myself, and not a day passes when I stand at that podium that I not only feel, but live her influence.
She is the definition of a Who’s Who, and her legacy is lived in many ways. For that I am grateful. I only wish that these tributes were not so often postmortem. Why wait to celebrate those who guide us? Why vocalize our appreciation for the selfless givers at times so exclusive as the holidays, or their physical exits from this world? Why wait to articulate our abundance of gratitude to those who have impacted us – intellectually, professionally or otherwise?
Do it now. Until Dec. 16, take the opportunity to nominate a Who’s Who.
