(From an original post on LinkedIn, Sunday, Mar. 2026)
Today, I’ve been thinking about lineage.
In a country of more than 330 million people, second-generation Black women doctorate holders likely number only in the low thousands — far less than one-hundredth of one percent of the U.S. population.By that measure, women like me are statistical unicorns.
But the truth is that neither I — nor that statistic — would exist without the woman whose life shaped my own.
I am her legacy.
While I am singular in one respect — I am my mother’s only daughter — I am by no means the sole beneficiary of her life’s work.
Over the course of her career, my mother served as a matriarch and residential group home provider to hundreds of at-risk girls, a foster parent, and a steady nurturer through church and civic life to untold numbers of young people — particularly young women — whose lives she helped guide, steady, and uplift.
Over the course of her career, my mother served as a matriarch and residential group home provider to hundreds of at-risk girls, a foster parent, and a steady nurturer through church and civic life to untold numbers of young people — particularly young women — whose lives she helped guide, steady, and uplift.
So while it may be true that I carry a rare academic lineage, the deeper truth is that I share my mother with many.
And yes, at times that made for a rather crowded space growing up.
But it also gave me a front-row vantage point to witness what can happen when someone commits their mind, heart, soul, and faith to a mission larger than themselves.
On International Women’s Day, I’m grateful for the women whose courage, discipline, and service make it possible for the next generation to stand where we do.
For me, that woman is "Dr. Fran," Frances Marabou Williams.
And I am proud to say: I am her legacy.
Next, I’ll be sharing more about a special gathering in which we'll honor her work and the many other lives she has shaped.