60 Stories: Sarah Ross Parks

1868-1928
Mother of Gordon Parks

In his groundbreaking book, The Learning Tree, Gordon Parks wrote:

At fifty-two, Sarah was of unusual looks; smooth dark brown skin, with a sharp-boned face borrowing the high cheek and slanted eye of the Cherokee.  A pinkish white scar the size of a quarter marked her left temple, resembling a flower in bloom.  And this strange marking, inflicted by a thunderbolt during a long past storm, enriched the tone of her dark skin.  A thin layer of curly black hair stretched to a ball at the nape of her longish neck, and her delicate ears, curving gently out from the back, seemed to be shaped of wax.  She was short, wiry and quick-moving; and when her long skirt whipped out behind her, she gave an impression of forceful, almost perpetual motion.

Of course, “Sarah” was Sarah Winger, the Mother of the young protagonist of Mr. Parks’ book, Newt.  However, recognizing the autobiographical nature of The Learning Tree, this detailed description would certainly seem to provide us with the best reflection of Mr. Parks’ own recollection and memory of his Mother, Sarah Parks.  The picture of Sarah Parks that is included in some of Mr. Parks’ other books confirms that she was “short and wiry.”  The picture also shows a woman who was beautiful and determined and a woman who could, indeed, be in “forceful, almost perpetual motion.” 

Today, Gordon Parks, is viewed and considered as a true Renaissance man who excelled in many different aspects of the creative arts, a man whose talent and energy knew no boundaries.  Gordon Parks was a person who overcame a humble beginning and discrimination, both overt and subtle, to achieve national and international fame…a man who made a real difference in the lives of so many.  It is also very evident that Mr. Parks recognized, and continually acknowledged, the positive influence of his parents, particularly his dear Mother, Sarah Ross Parks.

Andrew Jackson Parks had five children with his first wife, Anna, when he married Sarah Ross Parks.  Jackson and Sarah went on to have ten children of their own, with Gordon being the youngest born on November 30, 1912.  Sarah named Gordon after the white physician who worked so hard to bring her last child into the world.  As Mr. Parks writes in A Hungry Heart:

I was born dead.  But a young White doctor plunged my blood-soaked remains into a tub of icy water and miraculously gave me life.  With determination he had disallowed even death to defeat him.  My mother had expressed her gratitude to him by giving me his name.  Dr. Gordon was the savior whose color had nothing to do with his giving me, a Black child, a right to life.

Gordon Parks was fifteen when his Mother passed.  Nevertheless, it is clear that in those fifteen years, she shaped and influenced her son with her kindness, wisdom, charity, determination, purity and most of all, her gentle and unending love.  As Mr. Parks writes in Voices in the Mirror:

My mother spoke one language–-love.  In looking back, I can’t find one moment when I can honestly say she was wrong.  Her last words to me were about love, and making something of myself.  There’s no doubt that, in the fifteen years providence willed her to me, she wove the guidelines that she hoped I would follow. 

It is because of that love and that influence that Sarah Ross Parks is so deserving of recognition in the Plaza of Heroines at Wichita State University: Sarah Ross Parks was truly a heroine.

It is perhaps most fitting, to use the words of Gordon Parks himself, to pay tribute to and honor Sarah Parks.  His sincere and emotional eloquence truly “says it all.”  In A Hungry Heart, Mr. Parks writes:

Fear walked beside me when I approached my mother’s coffin in the middle of the night and raised the lid to take one final look at her.  She seemed to be smiling, relieving me of my misery, taking my fear with her.  Trembling, I lay down beside her coffin and went to sleep.  The fear of death gave up and left. 

In A Choice of Weapons, Mr. Parks speaks of moving to Minnesota after his Mother’s death.  In leaving his native Fort Scott, Kansas, Mr. Parks said:

It was all behind me now.  By the next day, there would be what my mother had called “another kind of world, one with more hope and promising things.”  She had said, “Make a man of yourself up there.  Put something into it, and you’ll get something out of it.”  It was dream for me.  When I stepped onto the chilly streets of St. Paul, Minnesota, two days later, I was determined to fulfill that dream.

Again from Voices in the Mirror, Mr. Parks wrote:

Sarah Parks would have defied God Himself if what He willed her to do would harm another human being.  She would have exonerated her disobedience by concluding that God had, for an instant, lost sight of his His own teachings.  Certainly, the devil found her a terrible enemy.  Neither would she allow racism to drag her reasoning into the throes of its darkness.

In connection with racism, Mr. Parks notes, again, from Voices in the Mirror, that:

“If a white boy can do it, so can you,” Momma used to say, “so don’t ever give me your color as a cause for failing.”  She made everything seem possible, even during the bleakest years, by feeding my young mind with all the things one could do in spite of the color of one’s skin.

Mr. Parks spoke often of his Mother’s determination and the continuing power of her words.  He noted that her reassuring advice that “There’s hardly anything you can’t do if you’re willing to try hard enough” sustained him on multiple occasions and helped him “put optimism to work.”  Perhaps this is best illustrated by Sarah Parks’ determination that young Gordon would play the piano.  He wrote in his fourth and final autobiographical work, A Hungry Heart, that:

From the age of six–-and on, Poppa didn’t keen to my plunking on a piano.  He thought my time would be better spent feeding the chickens and hogs. But Mama was the boss.  And when she was at home, I played.

The clock has moved on.  Since then, and thanks to Mama, my fingers have kept creating–-a piano concerto, a symphony, two sonatas, a ballet and three film scores–-and I hope she is still counting.

In closing, perhaps it is appropriate to turn again to The Learning Tree and one of the most important and moving parts of the books.  Mr. Parks describes a conversation between Newt Winger and his Mother Sarah that has its foundational essence in their life in “Cherokee Flats.”  The dialogue begins with Sarah telling Newt:

“I hope you won’t have to stay here all your life, Newt.  It ain’t a all-good place and it ain’t a all-bad place.  But you can learn just as much here about people and things as you can learn any place else.  Cherokee Flats is sorta like a fruit tree.  Some of the people are good and some of them are bad–-just like the fruit on a tree.  You know that, don’t you boy?”

“Yessem.”

“Well, if you learn to profit from the good and bad these people do to each other, you’ll learn a lot ‘bout life.  And you’ll be a better man for that learnin’ someday.  Understand?”

“Yessem.”

“No matter if you go or stay, think of Cherokee Flats like that till the day you die–let it be your learnin’ tree.”

“Do we all have to die someday?”

“That’s one thing we all have to do, boy.  No matter who you are.  That’s why it’s so important to be ready when your time comes.”

“You mean to be a Christian, like you and Poppa?”

“In a way–-in a way.  But it’s even more than sayin’ you’re a Christian.  It’s a matter of givin’ more to this world than you take away from it.  So when you die you don’t owe it anything.  It’s bein’ able to love when you want to hate–-to forgive them that work against you–-to tell the truth even when it hurts–-to share your bread, no matter how hungry you are yourself.  Dyin’ comes easy when you know you’ve done all these things right.”

Gordon Parks gave so much to his world and it should be clear that his Mother, Sarah Ross Parks, was responsible for the person Gordon Parks became.  Gordon Parks has become a hero and role model for me; and Sarah Parks is a true heroine because, in fifteen short years, she shaped and molded the young boy that would become Gordon Parks.

I close this written tribute with a few words from Mr. Parks’ poem “Momma” which was included in his book, Eyes With Winged Thoughts:

Her love filled the space between heaven and hell.

  She was a mother beyond all other mothers.

      I owe her everything—

  Yes, I owe her for these things—and many, many more.

  So no good-byes, Momma.  The love petals

  falling like rain upon your grave

      are mine—-all mine.

Written and submitted by,

Ted D. Ayres
Vice President and General Counsel
Wichita State University