Featuring never-before-seen photos and compelling personal anecdotes, Donda's powerful and inspiring memoir reveals everything from the difficulties she faced as a single mother in the African-American community to her later experiences as Kanye's manager as he rose to superstardom. Speaking frankly about her son's reputation as a "Mama's Boy," and his memorable public outbursts about gay rights and President George W. Bush, Donda supports her son without exception, and here she shares the invaluable wisdom she has taken away from each experience -- passion, tolerance, patience, and above all, always telling the truth. Ultimately, she not only expresses what her famously talented son has meant to her but what he has meant to music and an entire generation.
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1
Back to the Future
How many folks do you know
Who can boast about their dad?
And say that he's the best there is
The best they could have had?
How many folks can tell you
That their dad is really hip?
Our kind of conversation
Might cause some folks to trip.
Well here is one who'll talk of you
Until this life is through
And when I get to someplace else
I'll still be talking about you.
-- DONDA WEST, "A Man Called Portwood"
The last time my daddy saw his own father, he was nine years old. He and
his two sisters walked their father to the train station in Oklahoma City,
where he boarded a train to a destination they would never know. My dad
didn't remember any of the conversation. But he did remember his father
reaching into his pocket and giving his older sister a dime, his younger
sister a dime, and him -- the only boy -- a quarter. His father then
turned and walked onto that train and never came back.
My father talks about how he and his sisters were very happy about the
money, but inside they were sad to see their dad leave. My father's mother
had not gone to the train station. When she learned about the little
excursion, her eyes filled with tears. Maybe she knew that day would be
the last time any of them would see him. All he left them with was a total
of forty-five cents. Forty-five cents for the kids and tears for his wife.
But still, my dad loved his father dearly. Later, my father asked his
mother if she'd loved him, too.
"I worshipped the ground he walked on," Grandmother Williams told him.
There were two lessons my father took away that day that he in turn
passed along to his children. The first was that no matter what, you
never abandon your family. The second was that no matter what, you must
love unconditionally. That his mother still loved his father -- in fact,
worshipped the ground he walked on -- even after he walked out on the
family showed a kind of love that you just don't find every day. They say
you must hate the sin but love the sinner. You can hate what someone does
and still love the person.
It is that kind of love that made my father the kind of father, and the
kind of man, he is. My daddy vowed that he would never leave -- he would
never walk away from his family. And he never did. It's been seventy-two
years of marriage...and counting -- four kids, grandkids, great-
grandkids, great-great-grandkids later -- and he's still here. He and my
mother laid the foundation for the rest of us to build upon and grow on.
You took me with you everyplace
From church to corner joints
I learned when I was 5 or less
About life's finer points.
And when I wouldn't talk up
The way you knew I should
You gave me words of warning
And then I knew I could.
"I won't take you with me, Big Girl,
If you don't speak out loud."
And ever since I've talked right out
To a few or in a crowd.
When anything was needed
You told me what to do
"You have not, 'cause you ask not."
Those words stuck with me too.
I remember everything my father ever told me. He never understood what
would make a man leave his family. I know times were tough when my daddy
was a child, so tough that he picked cotton. When he got older he worked
for years on jobs where he was called "nigger" on a daily basis. And when
he wasn't being called "nigger," the word of choice was "boy." Long before
he rose to the honor of being one of Oklahoma City's Outstanding Black
Businessmen, my dad shined shoes and grinned for tips.
"Yes, sir," he'd say to the white men, who on occasion would even spit on
him. Then he'd put that dime in his pocket and bring it home to my mom. My
dad knew how to take the insults and keep his dignity. It must have eaten
him alive inside but no one would ever know. Sometimes he had to flee for
his very life. That's the way it was in those days. And if you wanted to
provide the best you could for your family, you took it because you had to.
In Capitol Hill, a southern section of Oklahoma City where my dad worked
as a laborer, there was a sign that read: NO NIGGERS AND DOGS AFTER
SUNDOWN. My dad had to pass that sign every day going to and coming from
his meager job. But he did whatever it took to keep a roof over our heads
and, with my mother's help, give us what we needed and wanted.
Some would say it was blasphemous the way Grandmother Williams worshipped
her husband, the way my dad worshipped me, and the way I worship Kanye. But
I just call it plain-old heartfelt, couldn't-help-it-if-you-tried-to love.
In my family there is a legacy of that kind of love. And there was no
shortage of that in our household. It has persisted through generations.
And I am certain that Kanye will feel the same way about his children.
My dad was just nine years old when his father left home. But instead of
doing the same, Daddy became the kind of father his dad was not. I heard
him say on more than one occasion, "I wanted to play football, but I
wasn't big enough. I wanted to box, but I wasn't fast enough. I wanted to
sing, but I wasn't talented enough. I wanted to be the best dad there ever
was, and I am."
And he is -- unequivocally.
According to Kanye, my dad is where he gets his confidence. My dad is in
his nineties and he's still setting the standard in our family of what a
real man, a daddy, not just a biological father, should be. I write about
this because I look forward to Kanye becoming a father. He is blessed to
have Buddy as a model.
A million days have come and come
Since I was first in school
But never did the teachers teach
What I have learned from you.
I got those books for you had said
That they could bring me glory
But more than that you taught me that
I'd have to have a story.
A story for the people
You'd say and show concern
That's been the greatest lesson
That I have ever learned.
You taught me how to hustle
And when to dummy up
Whatever the occasion
You had the proper touch.
The time that tops them all off, though
Was not so long ago
When we rapped and rode for hours
Down the streets there in Chicago.
That night the conversation
Seemed to linger in the air
And we both know without a doubt
We were a special pair.
So, I couldn't be more lucky
Than to have a dad like you
'Cause you're a priceless present
That I've had my whole life through.
You're a man that some call Portwood
And they say it with a smile
But I'm more blessed by far than they
'Cause I was born your child.
Love, Big Girl
Behind every great man...you know the rest. With all that my father is, he
is magnified by my mother. Unconditional love? Mother personified this.
Not a single day passed in my childhood when anything came before her
children. Not even her own needs. She was always wherever we needed her to
be despite working full time. She didn't miss one PTA meeting, not one
talent show or beauty pageant, not a church program or graduation.
Mother didn't even miss a single graduation of her ten grandchildren.
Sometimes she'd travel as far as El Paso, Texas, or Chicago, Illinois, to
be there. She and my dad would be on a plane to that graduation. Mine was
the mother who took off work to go on field trips and the mother who made
all the other kids glad she had come. As the youngest of the four
children, I confess that I was in an enviable position. I got the fewest
spankings and the best perks. We spent a lot of time together, mother and
I. When she wasn't working at the Tinker Air Force Base or when I wasn't
with my dad on a call to one of his customers (those demeaning jobs had
now been replaced with my dad's own furniture upholstery and refinishing
business), I hung out with Mother.
Every Monday night she would take me shopping downtown. Both of my sisters
were grown and out of the house by then and my brother, Porty, would be in
the shop mostly with my dad. Mother and I would hit John A. Brown's first
and then Rothschild's. It was our routine. I didn't mind that we'd always
go to the bargain basement first (and sometimes last). I loved it. I loved
the time we spent together even more than the bargains she'd manage to
always find for me. Mother is probably the one who came up with the
concept "buy one, get one free." You could say that she could stretch a
penny. A penny went far, but not nearly as far as her love.
Mother had not always worked as a keypunch operator at Tinker Air Force
Base. I heard tell of stories where she'd done hair and been a domestic.
My dad wanted her to stop doing hair, though, because she was on her feet
too long. The domestic job? That bit the dust the day my mother went to
work and rang the doorbell, as she had done so many mornings before to
start her work, only to be met by the lady of the house, who I'll call
Miss Ann. Miss Ann had come into some money and had a maid's outfit,
complete with a little hat, ready for my mother.
"Use the back door from now on," she told my mother.
Well, you'd have to know my mother to know what this triggered inside of
her. After giving the woman a few choice words, she left that house never
to return. She was never to do domestic work again, either. She was not
forced to take the same level of mistreatment my dad had to take. In fact,
he would not stand for her being mistreated on a job. I don't remember
hearing what my mother's next job was. But neither she nor my dad were
okay with her being told to put on a little maid's hat and only use the
back door. While my mother's mom was herself ...
Most Helpful Customer Reviews 5 of 5 people found the following review helpful: By Book Lover (Pembroke Pines, Florida)
Donda West, English college professor, and unlikely mother of rap superstar Kanye West had some interesting points to make about parenting. She says she made sure that she raised Kanye to be respectful but also to be truthful -- hence his famous rant that George Bush doesn't care about black people. On the other hand, when Kanye fell asleep at the wheel in a car accident, the insurance company broker advised him to say he had been trying to avoid another car in order to get paid out. He refused to do that either. Growing up, she pretty much gave Kanye anything he wanted, in return for doing his chores and whatever else was expected. (I was surprised when she gave him $1,000 to buy recording equipment at age 13!) My biggest problem was that she had changed her opinion of the N-word and found it acceptable speech because words shouldn't have that much weight. Could that have ANYTHING at all to do with the fact that her son uses it alot in his music and she is involved in managing him? Hmmm. All in all, a fast entertainng read.
1 of 2 people found the following review helpful: By Soraya Scaife "soraya10" (Stafford, VA United States)
I think that this is a very good book. Ms. Donda West was inspiring to a mother raising a son in this period in history. She was practical, encouraging and frank. I feel that Donda's parenting techniques adds a dose of reality in today's society. She recognized the differences, yet affirmed her basic beliefs and standards for life.
Congratulations Donda West, you pressure developed a jewel.
