Dwight Powell cant celebrate Mothers Day with his mom anymore, but her legacy lives through hi
On Sunday, when many across the country will celebrate their mothers with brunch or well-deserved gifts, Dwight Powell will celebrate his with memories. It’s become a personal tradition, of sorts, over the last six Mother’s Days, a somber status quo.
Jacqueline Weir’s life was snatched away by breast cancer on September 13, 2012, almost exactly three months before her 54th birthday.
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“She actually didn’t tell me about it,” Powell said. “She was struggling with it for a little bit and saw some doctors. I don’t know if she knew how severe it was. When I found out, she was already in need of hospitalization. I was in Toronto with the national team and I called home. I could hear her voice was very weak and something was wrong.
“Flew out there and she was already in the hospital. The first day, we were able to talk and go over it and she was like, ‘I’m going to be fine’ and the next morning she woke up and it was much worse, she couldn’t talk anymore and then she passed the following day.”
Weir was a versatile figure in Powell’s life; she raised him as a single mother, filled the role of his best friend and was his biggest fan. Powell was her only child so he truly received her undivided affection and attention.
“She did everything she could to provide for me,” Powell said. “We had some hard times but she never let it show to me. I never went to sleep hungry or wanting. She always found a way to make things work.
“That’s where I learned that, literally, hard work is one of the most important things out there as far as character is concerned.”
Weir didn’t have a formal college education; she took the long road to success. Powell had a front-row seat to that journey, as Weir started off with a low-level job at a bank and then worked her way up by going to night school to complete certifications needed for promotions. She did whatever it took to move in the right direction.
“She just literally, through brute force, worked her way all the way up,” Powell said. “I obviously saw that every single day.”
Weir eventually became an internal auditor for a bank in New York. She continued attending night school, now for subjects which didn’t necessarily relate to her career but simply caught her interest. One of those subjects was law, and it resulted in the mother and son duo watching many crime shows together as she quizzed him on terms she had learned. Even though she worked in banking and wouldn’t need the information for her job, Weir wanted to emphasize the importance of education to her only child.
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The message was received, loud and clear.
“She took law classes for the fun of it to try and be a lifelong learner and set an example for me,” Powell said. “That was huge and it played a big role in my life moving forward.”
Education and hard work. Weir emphasized both topics to Powell and they came together for him when he decided to attend Stanford in the fall of 2010. It was far from Powell’s only option; he turned down two other prestigious academic institutions in Harvard and Georgia Tech.
As much as the NBA was Powell’s dream, it was going to wait. Powell could have opted for the NBA draft following his junior year but that would have been less than a year removed from Weir’s death. But Powell had promised her he would graduate from college, and he wasn’t going to leave a promise to his mother unfulfilled. Powell returned to Stanford for his senior season, completed his bachelor’s degree in Science, Technology and Society and was also named the Pac-12 Scholar-Athlete of the Year and a Pac-12 All-Academic Honorable Mention selection.
Weir’s legacy of education was fulfilled.
On the court, Powell helped Stanford to the Sweet 16 in his senior season and was named first-team All-Pac-12 for the second straight year. A few months after his collegiate season ended, he waited to see where he would be selected in the NBA draft.
He was picked by the Charlotte Hornets in the second round but was traded three times in the next six months, the final transaction landing him in Dallas as an afterthought in the Rajon Rondo trade.
When Weir watched Powell play basketball, from grade school to his early college days until her passing, she rarely criticized his technique or his game. She looked for one thing in her son and as long as that was evident, she was a proud mom.
“The same thing with everything; effort was her big thing,” Powell said. “As long as I was playing hard, she wasn’t disappointed. As long as I was out there and you could tell I was trying my best and being unselfish and just trying hard; that was her biggest thing. Don’t be out there just to be out there.”
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Since landing in Dallas, Powell has developed a reputation as one of the hardest workers on the team. He practices hard, runs hard on both ends of the court and continues to improve. He arrived in Dallas as strictly an inside player but has now developed a 3-point shot; he took 11 3-point attempts in his rookie season and 127 in 2018-19. Last season, he posted career-highs in minutes, points and effective field goal percentage. He’s earned one big contract that is now nearing its end and is a sure bet to sign an extension in Dallas.

(Photo courtesy of Dwight Powell)
Much like the woman he saw rise from a low-level job to become an internal auditor, Powell has gone from a second-round pick thrown into a trade to a valued role player and spot starter.
Weir’s legacy of hard work was fulfilled.
“She taught me that you don’t get what you deserve, you get what you get,” Powell said. “You got to do the best with what you have and not make excuses or feel sorry for yourself.”
That advice has gotten Powell through personal and professional adversity. Though he may take an extra moment to reflect on his mother on Sunday, he holds her close on a daily basis. His jersey number, No. 7, is in tribute to her and symbolizes her life.
“A lot of things in her life revolved around that number,” Powell said. “From sports to addresses, to opportunities to timing to business, phone numbers, whatever. It means a lot to me to wear it now.
“I was born at exactly 7 a.m., she died at exactly 7 p.m. I met her at 7 a.m. and said goodbye at 7 p.m.”
Sometimes Powell will make a big play in a game and quickly turn his face toward the inside of his elbow. He isn’t into making an animated gesture or pointing to the sky, so that’s where he takes a moment to thank her or tell her she is missed.
“Literally, everything I do is with her legacy in mind and trying to be the best I can in every situation I find myself in,” Powell said. “Although obviously she’s not here, there’s a lot of things that I can be grateful about that she left behind as far as the lessons that she taught me and the good times that we had.”
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On the seventh Mother’s Day without her, that’s what Powell will be thinking about.
(Top photo courtesy of Dwight Powell)
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