At 33 years old, Mondrian Douglas is the kind of mother who turns ordinary days into lifelong lessons, and simple routines into sacred rituals.
Raising four children as a single parent—Christian (17), Hillary (11), Elizabeth (9), and Daniel (6)—she’s learned to balance toughness with tenderness, structure with spontaneity, and discipline with devotion.
Her days begin early. By 6:00 a.m., she’s preparing breakfast, checking backpacks, and praying over her children before they leave for school. By evening, her house is filled with the clatter of dishes, the murmur of homework help, and the laughter that comes from shared jokes and inside stories.
“We eat dinner together every day,” Mondrian says proudly. “Not just to eat—but to connect. It’s a time to listen, reflect, and stay grounded in one another.”
Mondrian is deeply rooted in faith. She and her children are active members of Faith Baptist Church, where they not only attend every Sunday but also serve together.
“We don’t just go—we participate,” she says. “My kids know church isn’t an option; it’s a lifestyle. We pray together, we serve together, and we grow together.”
The values she teaches—integrity, independence, spiritual awareness, and education—mirror those instilled in her by her own mother, Sandy K. Knight.
Sandy was a single mother of five daughters who raised her family with discipline, wisdom, and unwavering trust in God.
“She kept me in the house and made me read every day,” Mondrian recalls. “At the time, I hated it. I thought she was punishing me. But now I know—she was protecting me, building something in me.”
Sandy Knight’s story is one of sacrifice and perseverance. Mondrian was a complicated birth, and her mother had every reason to choose an easier route.
“She could’ve chosen not to go through with it,” Mondrian says, emotion rising in her voice. “But she carried me, birthed me, and raised me when she didn’t have much of anything. That’s love. That’s motherhood.”
It’s that same spirit Mondrian tries to replicate for her children. Her oldest son, Christian, carries many of her traits—bold, outspoken, and protective.
“He got into a fight in 10th grade defending a girl who was being bullied,” she shares.
“I understood it because I was the same way. I was bullied growing up too, and I fought back. But now I teach my children to choose their battles wisely.”
Though she describes herself as nurturing, Mondrian draws a clear line between friendship and parenting. “I’m not my children’s friend. I’m their mother,” she says firmly. “That means I have to say ‘no’ when they want to hear ‘yes,’ and make decisions they won’t always understand right now.”
Like many single mothers, she wears both hats—mother and father. She admits it’s difficult.
“I have to correct them, comfort them, challenge them, and love them—all in the same breath. But I do it, because they need it.”
Despite her busy schedule—working, serving with the NAACP, volunteering with SEDD, attending school events, and managing a household—Mondrian makes time for joy.
“We laugh—a lot. We joke, tease, sing, and play. That’s what I remember most from my childhood: the laughter. It’s what helped us through.”
Looking back, Mondrian says the hardest part of mothering isn’t the chores or long nights—it’s the emotional labor of keeping her children safe in a world filled with hidden dangers.
“I spend a lot of time worrying. Worrying that they’ll be hurt, that someone will mislead them, that the streets will get to them before their dreams do. But then I remember—I’m not doing this alone. God is with me. He’s guiding me.”
And on this Mother’s Day, her message to her own mother is full of gratitude. “Mama, thank you—for not giving up on me, for loving me even when I was hard to love. I know now you weren’t being mean—you were molding me. And everything I’m doing for my kids today, I learned from watching you.”
As her youngest, Daniel, prepares to graduate from kindergarten this month, and her oldest, Christian, eyes his senior year at Neville High School, Mondrian stands at a crossroads that many mothers know well: the tension between holding on and letting go. But she’s trusting the seeds she’s planted.
“I just want them to know,” she says softly, “that everything I did—I did out of love. And I hope, one day, they’ll do the same for their children.”
