Sheila Frances Golden White

An unforgettable Mother, Daughter, Sister, Aunt and Teacher. Born on July 17, 1949, she was the creator of her own destiny and she was destined to be great. Over the course of her life, she demonstrated resilience, strength, love and intellect. 

Born to tough but loving parents and a loving sister, she went through many trials growing up in Boston, MA in the 50's and 60's. In a time and place where women were fighting for their agency and liberation, my mother became the first of our family to graduate from college.

 She married in 1973, and had me on August 8, 1982. 

She was a dedicated professor and an even more dedicated mother.

I can remember her baking peanut butter cookies with me and her blowing bubbles until I would catch them in the front yard with the two tall trees. When I was a child, she would read me bedtime stories and even massage my forehead to help me sleep. Waking me up with the phrases like 'good morning Tootsaleh' and 'good morning mama Shaina'; making breakfast for me and later teaching me how to cook.

She would time me running long distance at the track or in the backyard when I got a little older. We'd play tennis, and she would also watch me play tennis, only upset with me if I would get frustrated with myself after missing a shot. She was always in attendance to watch me sing as a teenager in choir. We'd also sing "Pinball Wizard" and "Magic Bus" by The Who in the car together.

We used to go on lots of drives throughout New England to explore all of the old mill towns, we'd watch many plays and movies together and of course go to family gatherings. 

She had an impeccable sense of style and decor. Anyone who knew her,  knew this. 

She was the debate team coach and a history teacher and professor at a few prestigious prep schools as well as a slate of universities throughout her life and traveled all over Europe and the United States to continue to learn about history, developing ever improving teaching materials; even taking me to England to see historical cites like the Tower of London; as well as see plays like Oliver and Phantom of the Opera. 

We also saw Starlight Express, but no one has to know about that.

As a single mother, she was under immense pressure from all aspects of life. She had to do almost all of it on her own. As much as I love my late father, I understand why she had to leave him. Despite her exhaustion and trauma, she was incredibly active in my development as a human.

She made sure I was socially aware. She helped me with my book report about Frederick Douglass when I was 8. We watched Roots together when I was 9; and she took me to see a holocaust survivor speak at age 11.

Other mothers don't take the interest in their children the way my mother took an interest in me. As an adolescent, I sometimes felt this to be overbearing. She would sometimes get upset at me if my desk wasn't organized to her standards or if she didn't like the music I listened to. Alas, if she did like the music I listened to, she was never shy to say that either. If I achieved something, no one was prouder and if I needed help, she was there.

She was determined to make a success out of me. But not without love at the root of everything she did. As we both got older, life would take us to different places, but we always stayed in contact; sharing stories, experiences, perspectives and challenges with one another. Almost every conversation would end with the words “I love you,”

and I do love you mom.

As a history teacher and professor to tens of thousands of people throughout her life, she would help those tens of thousands of minds become sharper and more aware of human events, teaching important lessons of history in an unbiased way that needs to be taught for the good of humanity. Her loss in academia is palpable, but those educated minds live on.

I look back at almost all of my memories of you, particularly the ones in early childhood, with a deep fondness.

She is survived by myself, Zoe White; her sister, Janice Ramos and her husband, Armindo Ramos, her niece, Britta Ramos, and her grand nephew, James and grand niece, Sadie. She is one of two daughters of Edith Esther Golden and Abraham Morris Golden.

Her legacy lives on in the memories of those who knew her. She is now with the ancestors whom I will join someday.  She is dearly missed, appreciated, has left an indelible example, and lived an unforgettable life. I am grateful for everything you've done and everything you ever were, and are, and all of the sacrifices you've made. 

No one should have to, but you did. 

I can only attempt to continue to live a life that honors your legacy. You gave me the gift of life and it was a gift to have you as a mother.

I love you forever mom.