My mom always taught me to do good, say good, and be good. Never wanting to disappoint her, I have strived to meet that goal, though often falling short. I know that her own childhood shaped her moral compass.
She lived poor in rural Oklahoma. Old family photos look like scenes out of Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, tenant farmers suffering through miserable economic hardship. Through her difficult childhood, Mom learned to be tough and fiercely independent, never whining about all of life’s inconveniences.
With her strong spirit, she developed a code of ethics as did so many of the children growing up around her. Many of these unwritten rules were passed to me and my brother, including:
1. Be humble
2. Be kind to others
3. Tell the truth
4. Accept your mistakes
5. Be a good citizen
6. Listen before you speak
7. Forgive others
8. Lead by example
9. Be faithful to God and your family
I know being a southerner played a part in Mom’s makeup, as well as her Southern Baptist upbringing.
Folks generally tried to do right by one another, and morally corrupt individuals were anything but exalted.
All of which leads me to the disappointing irony of Mom’s life.
In the 1980s, her church denomination appointed authoritarian leaders who dictated rigid theology, moving away from the social gospel that influenced her sense of ethics. Her church began endorsing political candidates and blurring the principle of church and state.
Mercy and grace were supplanted by dogma and creed.
Over one generation, Mom became an outcast, a relic of a bygone era. The world she knew morphed into something far more troubling. Case in point?
In the most recent Presidential election, most of Mom’s Christian friends unwaveringly supported a candidate who violated all ten of her moral rules listed above.
And, he even boasted about his morally corrupt behavior while receiving millions of votes from evangelicals.
Fortunately, all is not lost.
In Hattiesburg, there lives a lady who will never let go of what she learned many decades ago.
She is not afraid to call a spade a spade and refuses to modify her moral checklist.
If I act “too big for my britches,” she lets me know loud and clear.
If I forget to show kindness, she’s in my ear. If I become self-centered, she redirects my thoughts. I may not be a world leader or famous, but I have Mom. I’ll take that any day.
Clark Hicks is a lawyer who lives in Hattiesburg. His e-mail is clark@hicksattorneys.com
