The Kids of Magnolia Mother’s Trust: John on Competition, Confidence and Why Every Kid Deserves Opportunity

This Mother’s Day weekend, we are honored to present a special three-part Front and Center mini-series—The Kids of Magnolia Mother’s Trust—featuring the children of mothers whose stories readers have come to know over the years. Published Friday, Saturday and Sunday ahead of Mother’s Day, these essays offer a deeply personal look at how children experience their mothers’ sacrifices, struggles and love, and how they understand the world around them because of those experiences.

In the third and final installment of The Kids of Magnolia Mother’s Trust, John reflects on how sports, community programs and his mother’s encouragement helped shape his confidence, motivation and sense of leadership growing up in Jackson, Miss. He writes about participating in Springboard to Opportunities programs since childhood, discovering a love of competition through sports and math, and why he believes young people need more opportunities and support systems in their communities:

“We have seen way too much violence and crime in our neighborhoods in recent years. While I think part of the problem is that kids have too easy access to weapons, I think it is also because there are not enough programs and opportunities for youth to get involved in and stay occupied. I can see how all these years with Springboard and having the extra support to participate in more youth sports helped grow my confidence, motivation and interests and has pushed me to stay active in other activities that are helping me continue to grow toward my best self. I want these same opportunities to be available for every kid in Jackson and my community.”

Following John’s essay, his mother Ebony—whose own story readers first encountered through Front and Center several years ago—responds to her son’s reflections and shares what it means to watch him grow into a young leader committed to his community, despite the adversity he has faced along the way.

The Kids of Magnolia Mother’s Trust: What a Daughter Learned About Leadership Watching Her Mom Hold Everything Together

“I know that sometimes it was a struggle for my mom to support me all the time in my dance classes,” Tamya writes in the second installment of the Ms. miniseries, The Kids of Magnolia Mother’s Trust. “Uniforms, traveling fees, parade fees—these all add up.”

A high school senior in Jackson, Miss., Tamya reflects on how dance became not only her greatest passion, but also the place where she learned leadership, self-confidence and self-advocacy. She writes candidly about the pride of becoming captain of her dance team, the heartbreak of eventually walking away after feeling undermined by a new coach, and the lessons she carried forward anyway about knowing her worth.

Tamya also reflects on how participating in Springboard to Opportunities’ Youth Fellowship deepened her understanding of Black history, leadership and community.

“It’s important to remember that there is so much more to the world than what I just see around me. And since I know my worth, my skills and my leadership, I can’t wait to go explore it.”

Following Tamya’s essay, her mother Tamara shares what it means to hear her daughter speak so confidently about her future after years spent trying to shield her children from financial stress and instability.

“I wanted to put a dream in them and allow them to believe that they can be anything that they want to be and their lives are not going to be determined by where they live or their circumstances,” she writes. “That’s why I am so proud hearing Tamya talk about the leader she already is and all the dreams she has for her life moving forward.”

Imagining a World Where No Mothers Die

More than 700 women die each day, on average, from causes linked to pregnancy or childbirth. Almost all of these deaths are preventable. 

To honor the world’s mothers, we asked midwives about their memories of helping women survive the journey to motherhood. And we asked how the world would be different if no woman died in the act of creating life.

The First Mother’s Day Was a Protest

Far from mimosa brunches and hallmark greetings, the first Mother’s Day in the United States occurred against the scourge of war. In 1870, abolitionist and suffragist Julie Ward Howe who still had the horrors of the Civil War on her mind and was disturbed by the plight of war abroad called for an international movement of mothers as a way to call for peace and to protest the devastation of war.

History doesn’t repeat itself but it often rhymes. Mother’s Day comes this year as our nation and those across the globe are living with the dire consequences of a war with Iran Congress never authorized. The war has cost American lives as well as the lives of innocent children–including nearly 100 schoolgirls—in Iran. Former U.S. military officials have criticized the Pentagon’s strike and the lack of transparency around it. The president continues to threaten many of our global allies, as the rate of autocracies across the globe rise while democracies decline. All the while, costs continue to rise, making it harder and harder for working people to make ends meet. 

The only way this crisis will become a catalyst for change is if we commit not just to rebuilding our nation, but to reimagining it as a nation that can hold all of us and to demand that our leaders drive bold change to achieve true democracy and true change for the next generation. A nation where it is unacceptable for children to go hungry while others enjoy nation-building wealth. A nation where it is unacceptable to detain children and infants based on their skin color or who their parents are or where they are from. A nation where every person finds the courage to call out the cruelty. 

On this Mother’s Day, may we all be the mothers—and the fighters—our children need. If we don’t, who will? 

The Kids of Magnolia Mother’s Trust: Kentavius on Equity, Community and Watching His Mom Breathe Easier

This Mother’s Day weekend, we are honored to present a special three-part Front and Center mini-series—The Kids of Magnolia Mother’s Trust—featuring the children of mothers whose stories readers have come to know over the years. Published Friday, Saturday and Sunday ahead of Mother’s Day, these essays offer a deeply personal look at how children experience their mothers’ sacrifices, struggles and love, and how they understand the world around them because of those experiences.

In the first installment of The Kids of Magnolia Mother’s Trust, Kentavius reflects on what he has learned about equity, community and advocacy through his experiences growing up in Jackson, Miss., and participating in Springboard’s Youth Advocacy Fellowship. He writes candidly about race, policing, education and the difference it made to watch his mother experience a year with a little less financial stress—and a little more room to simply be present as a parent:

“Equity also looks like the year that my mom was a part of the Magnolia Mother’s Trust. With the additional funds and support that she got during that year, I could tell that she was a lot more relaxed. We had more food in the house. She was able to buy us new clothes and pay my football fees without the extra worry. My mom had the chance to just be a mom without so much stress. She has always worked so hard to take care of me and my brother and be the best mom that she can be. Getting to watch her spend that year still getting to be our mom, but without so much worry about money, was really special. Giving moms like mine the extra resources they deserve to take care of their families is another example of equity.”

Following Kentavius’ essay, his mother Kim—whose own stories readers first encountered through Front and Center several years ago—responds to her son’s reflections and shares what it means to watch him grow into a thoughtful young man committed to justice, compassion and community.

As a Woman Without a Country, I Was Afraid to Become a Mother. If SCOTUS Limits Birthright Citizenship, Millions More Will Share That Fear.

I never knew if it was safe for me to have a child.

For most people, that question is about timing or readiness. For me, it was about something more fundamental. Not whether my child would belong in the United States, but whether I would be able to stay with them, have access to them, and be able to be their parent without fear.

When Mothers Speak, Medicine Must Listen

When my daughter was 2 weeks old, she stopped eating. She would go nearly 24 hours without food, crying constantly and losing weight while seeming to be in excruciating pain. Over five months, I took her to more than 50 doctors appointments searching for answers, only to be dismissed as hysterical, hormonal or “over-medicalizing” my baby.

By the time doctors finally recognized that she was suffering from a milk allergy and reflux, the prolonged pain had caused bottle aversion—a life-threatening condition in which babies become too traumatized to eat. She was later diagnosed with ARFID, a trauma-based eating disorder that still affects her today.

What happened to my daughter forced me to confront a devastating question: Would we have been treated differently if I weren’t a woman of color? Research has repeatedly shown that Black women and children are less likely to have their pain taken seriously by medical providers, and over the last decade, federal programs aimed at identifying and addressing those disparities began making meaningful progress. But under the Trump administration, many of those initiatives are being dismantled in the name of fighting “DEI,” with funding slashed, bias training suspended and research into racial disparities frozen or erased altogether.

My daughter is now in preschool—playing, laughing and growing—but she still struggles to eat enough to meet her nutritional needs.

Our story is not an isolated tragedy; it is a warning about what happens when healthcare systems stop listening to mothers and when political attacks on equity research blind medicine to its own biases. If we truly value mothers and children, we cannot treat efforts to understand racial disparities in healthcare as expendable.

Tennessee Tries to Silence Women Nearly Killed by Its Abortion Ban: ‘We Will Have Our Day in Court,’ Pledges Lead Plaintiff

Tennessee was supposed to face nine women in court on April 27 in a closely watched trial over the state’s abortion ban—women who say they were denied emergency care, forced to flee the state for abortions, or pushed to the brink of death after suffering catastrophic pregnancy complications. After waiting nearly three years to testify publicly about what happened to them, the plaintiffs were prepared to finally take the stand.

Then, less than two business days before the trial was set to begin, Tennessee Attorney General Jonathan Skrmetti (yes, the same Skrmetti whose name is now attached to the Supreme Court’s landmark anti-trans healthcare ruling) filed an appeal invoking a newly enacted state law which prevents Tennesseans from suing over any state law that harms them. The move stripped the court of jurisdiction over the case, abruptly halting the proceedings and potentially delaying the trial for months or years.

“We should be in court today standing up to Tennessee’s abortion ban,” the Center for Reproductive Rights said in a statement after the cancellation. “These women deserve their day in court. But Tennessee politicians refuse to listen.”

Among the plaintiffs is Allie Phillips, who says she was forced to travel to New York for an abortion after learning her fetus had a fatal diagnosis and that continuing the pregnancy put her own life at risk. By the time she arrived for care, she learned the fetus had already died in utero, placing her at heightened risk of infection and blood clots.

Phillips shares her story and reaction to the canceled trial, in her own words.

“I would have testified about how I would have risked my future fertility and my life if I had stayed pregnant in Tennessee. … I already had a 6-year-old daughter, Adalie, to raise. She needed me to live and be her mom. …

“We’re appealing. We don’t know how it will take but even if it’s five years, we will have our day in court. I’m not going anywhere.”

The Gun Crisis Is a Maternal Health Crisis. Virginia Shows What a Comprehensive Response Looks Like.

When the shots rang out at the Washington Hilton, it had not even been a week since the nation mourned the eight children shot dead in Shreveport, La., seven of whom were the gunman’s own. Two women, including his wife, were also shot but survived; another child jumped off a roof to escape the shooting.

More than just about anywhere else in the country, American classrooms have become ground zero for preparing kids. That was the first thought I had when I heard real-time Saturday night dispatches, reporters claiming they instinctually knew to crouch under tables. That’s not instinct. That is an entire generation raised on active-shooter drills. (I’ll never forget my then 8-year-old daughter nonchalantly explaining to me the difference between color-coded school drills. “Don’t be silly, Mom, no one has to go in the closet for a Code Yellow.”)

Not surprisingly, mothers have taken up the mantle.

Over the past week, a suite of gun safety bills headed to Gov. Abigail Spanberger’s desk, several of which she signed into law, and others she amended, including a ban on the sale of assault weapons and high-capacity magazines—Virginia would be the 11th state to enact such a ban—as well as protections for domestic violence survivors, age limits on gun purchases, safe storage requirements and industry accountability measures.

She simultaneously signed bipartisan legislation known as the Momnibus, which aims to improve and expand healthcare coverage for mothers and families, particularly women who face the highest risks, by codifying the need to collect maternal health data, supporting mental health screenings of new parents, and expanding insurance and Medicaid coverage for a variety of care.

Paid family and medical leave is the third key advance, which Spanberger signed into law last week as well.

As we look ahead to the midterm elections, remember there are indeed policies that can make us safer and healthier. Don’t let anyone in the political establishment convince us it is not so.

For Women Leaving Prison, Education Can Be a Way Out

Standing at the bottom of the steps at Tulane University, waiting for her name to be called, Stephanie King took a deep breath. At 63, after nearly three decades in prison, she was about to receive her college diploma—something she had never imagined possible.

For King, who left high school as a pregnant teenager and earned her GED while incarcerated, the moment marked more than a personal milestone. “I just wanted to walk across that stage,” she told me. But beneath that was a deeper realization: Education could be the way out of the cycles that had defined her life.

That belief drives programs like Operation Restoration’s partnership with Tulane, which brings college and job training opportunities to women inside and beyond prison walls. Founded by formerly incarcerated advocate Syrita Steib, the organization helps women build stability through education, employment and support systems often denied to them. The path is rarely easy—students face limited resources inside prison and steep barriers upon release—but again and again, women point to the same truth: Education offers not just opportunity, but a chance to rebuild their futures on their own terms.

(This story is part of “Breaking the Cycle,” a three-part Ms. series on how women impacted by incarceration are building new futures—from education and job training, to debate teams and book clubs inside jails. Later this week: how women behind bars are finding their voices in public debate, and building community through literature.)