More often than not in life, when asked, “Who are your role models?” the response is usually a public figure, super athlete, movie star, or someone else that is well-known because of their public achievements.
For me as a Black woman, there are many role models in the public eye that I could mention that you would all recognize, such as Michelle Obama, our first Black First Lady of the United States; Wilma Rudolph, the first U.S. woman to win three gold medals in a single Olympics in Rome in 1960; or Coretta Scott King, the wife of the slain Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. Though I admire these women and the countless other Black men and women in history and the modern-day, my heroes were not famous or otherwise known in the public eye. My heroes, I call mom and dad, Curtis and Annie Baten.
My heroes afforded myself and my three sisters a life of comfort and security in the town of Madison, New Jersey. To this day, if asked where I grew up when I say "Madison, New Jersey," those who know the town drawback with uncertainty as it was and remains a middle to an upper-class suburban community with a very small population of Blacks. During some of the toughest times for Blacks to reside in predominately white communities, my parents knew that they wanted only the best for their girls and that we deserved and needed a high-level public education.
My father, with only a 10th-grade education, founded his own company called Cadillac Cleaning Company, and he worked day and night to provide for all of our needs. You may ask why the name “Cadillac Cleaning Company?" Well, because he and my mom only drove Cadillacs as our family car. My mother, a graduate of Madison High School just like her four daughters, was a graduate of business school but put her career goals on hold to raise her girls, molding us into strong, resilient, respectful, and respected young women. Her profession became volunteering in the schools, the community center teaching sewing, rhythm band, and Girl Scouts; track, soccer, and softball mom working in the churches and helping dad on the weekends with the family business. They opened their home to anyone that needed a transitioning place, be it for a night, a week, or years, there was a place of safety for you. When my twin sister and I entered school full-time, mom did enter the workforce, eventually retiring from the State of New Jersey as Sr. Account Manager for Morris County in Morristown, NJ.
As an incentive for their girls to do and be better than he was, as teenagers my father took us with him on jobs to his wealthy clients' homes to clean alongside him. As children, we were embarrassed of this, but as we became adults, we were grateful because his work on his hands and knees afforded us what so many others didn’t have: security, work ethic, and tenacity.
In a town with a low population of Blacks, our parents took every opportunity to immerse us in efforts for equality. Before MLK Day became a National Day of Service, we stayed home from school every year on Martin Luther King’s birthday and celebrated with the Black community with poetry, songs, and African cultural dancing. We attended and were active in the two all-Black churches, we became debutantes and cotillion participants, even winning runner up. Whatever the other children in town were afforded to do, so were we. Some activities were open to all, but you weren’t truly welcomed, so mom and dad would find the same activity or opportunity in a community that welcomed us--but we still came home to Madison. We suffered out and out racism as well as subtle racism, but nothing would move my parents from ensuring we received the best education, home, community, and opportunities.
But most important was to teach us that we were just as good as our classmates and neighbors and that we deserved better opportunities. Our parents taught us to not be the best version of them, but the best version of ourselves, by exhibiting strength, respect, hard work, and love. Though we relocated from Madison in 1985 after my twin sister and I graduated high school, Madison remained home to them and to us. In July of 2021, just short of a year of our mom's passing, Madison honored the “First Families of Madison” in a new initiative called Hidden Figures. These families, including my own, were some of the first Black families to live in Madison and leave a footprint that might otherwise have been forgotten down through the years.
The Oxford Language's definition of role model is “a person looked to by others as an example to be imitated." In life, as a person in general, race and culture put aside, who better to desire to imitate than those who poured so much of themselves into you to help mold you into the person that you have become and are becoming? Who better than our day-to-day heroes, mom, and dad. I have desired to be the best example of them to my children, grandchildren, family, friends, and colleagues, so that if I am not remembered for anything else during my time here on earth, others can say, “She was a good role model and a good person to everyone that knew her.” In remembering me I hope that it's not because of the color of my skin but because of my character.
This post is part of a series as Ankura celebrates Black History Month: we recognize significant achievements, honor traditions, and celebrate our colleagues. We are excited to share the stories of Black professionals at our Firm not only in February but throughout the year.
