My Mom and Wilma Supik

It has been a year of emotional turmoil as I focused my thoughts on the tribulations of loved ones. My sister consuming me with hurt, fear and sadness. My cousin and mother-in-law bringing me such a sense of loss. Grief following me wherever I traveled.

My writings reflecting my pain. Along the way there were pieces on all of them. And then there were stories of my dad, as I stumbled upon memories of him in recent months.

In all of this I feel I have given my mom less than her deserved measure. She was an extraordinary woman with boundless love. And, oh by the way, a teacher who altered the lives of her students.

In recent days I had a conversation that served to amplify the issue of my mom's career, and of women in the workplace.

I was on a chairlift with a person I have known for several decades. Someone I have always held a fondness for. But we have never had anything other than the most superficial of conversations.

Midway up on our chair ride, he suddenly pivoted from the topic at hand and asked if I wanted to know what he believed was wrong with the country. I said no. He continued nonetheless.

"It is when women went into the workplace. Suddenly there were two incomes. People wanting more and more. Children without discipline, no one there to control their behavior."

I began my response. But after one sentence I thought the better of it. Which brings me to my mom and Wilma Supik.

My mom was born in 1918 (although there is some debate about this). After graduating from college she became a teacher. Her principal subject, English.

In 1945 my mom and dad married. And, as was expected in those times, my mom quit her job thereafter. And never returned.

But before she retired, she had made an indelible mark. In 1980, nearly four decades after my mom was her teacher, Wilma Supik, a newspaper columnist, wrote an Op-Ed thanking Ms. Smith (my mother) for having changed the course of her existence. Rather than try to synopsize her thoughts, you can read the full column below.

I wonder what Ms. Supik would offer in reply to the person on that chairlift. And I wonder how many more lives my mom might have positively impacted had the times and her circumstances been different.

This nation is beset with many woes. Troubles that are complex and are often seemingly intractable. But having women participate in educating us, not merely in the classroom but the boardroom and really every room in which their voice can be heard as a positive force, is definitely not the predicate for our struggles.

My mom gave us a wonderful home, a warm and embracing place where my dad, my sister and myself felt adored and protected. Just like Ms. Supik must have felt in that classroom.