CHAPEL TALKS : SIERRA NELSON
Creation
What is everyone made of? When thinking of what makes me who I am, one of the biggest influences I can think of is my father. Obviously anyone who has seen me knows that I am basically the spitting image of my father. However, we are also very similar in temperament and personality. How many times do I hear my mom say, “You are just like your father”? Usually it’s when I pick an argument and won’t leave it alone until it is ground into dust, but generally I like to think we are similar in more positive ways. I think one of the biggest is in the effect of the world. WE let the world influence us, let its conflicts become known to us. My dad was a history teacher and knew how the world became how it is today. He listened to NPR to acquire more knowledge about what was happening outside his little sphere. This interest in the world around him made him want to leave his own mark on the world. He did this rather successfully, being a teacher and in volunteering. Anyone who has been in the Summit community knows the enormous mark he made.
Background
My dad’s name is Emil Lopez Nelson. He was of Jamaican Swedish decent and was born near Kampala, Uganda on March 18, 1970. He grew up in Yellow Springs, Ohio and attended Wilmington College. He had three children: myself, my brother, and our younger sister. He contracted leukemia in December of 2000 and later died of it on February 6, 2001. These are the hard boiled basic facts that could be any person’s life. I hope to give insight on who my father was and continues to be.
Teacher
My dad was an 8th grade history teacher. But, as seems to be the pattern, his influence in his profession was much more than was called for. Whether you realize it or not, his presence is felt all over this school. For 8th graders, there is the award in his name. In the high school, there is the Chicken Chow Down. No, it’s not just an excuse to gorge ourselves on chicken wings, there is a legitimate cause behind it. I find it fascinating the number of my peers who still tell me that they remember him in various situations. Even more fascinating is the how many of his students still keep in contact with my family. And to learn who has been inspired to be a teacher, musician, or even a doctor? I know it makes me feel pretty special that I get to be related to someone who not only had his own gifts and talents, but also had the ability to inspire others. Isn’t that every teacher’s dream after all? To inspire their students to follow their interests and possibly even make a difference?
Major and Minor Chords
My dad was what you could call a music aficionado. He brought music into all aspects of his life. I remember from my earliest memories my dad singing and playing his guitar. I remember him bringing his guitar to his classroom. I especially remember after school jam sessions with students and playing at mass. It feels like his music has been ingrained into my DNA, like it will always be my music as well. I don’t think I got all the music talent; his ability to match notes by listening to them had been gifted to my brother. But I do think that I got some of the interest. I can’t even count how many times I have heard a song and declared it to be my favorite, and then find out it was one of my dad’s favorites. Let me illustrate how much music meant to him: my dad was put into a medically induced coma while in the ICU. Despite this, my dad managed to tap out the beat of music my mom put on with his foot. And while it seems to be an odd juxtaposition, this always reminds me of an afternoon where he was trying to teach me to find the beat in music, and I already knew how. It just came naturally, I suppose.
Extended Family
Through my dad there has been a family created. We’re not related by actual blood, but somehow I think this makes us stronger. This new family of sorts includes our family unit and our family friends. I realized how much of a family we are when I received letters from them. One member is my Uncle E, who is not my uncle at all, but is as good as any uncle could be. His name is actually Eric Livingston, and he is childhood friends with my dad. In his letter, he painted a picture of relentlessly teasing my aunt. He also made it very clear how important my family is to him, which made me feel less awkward about calling him Uncle E. I personally always thought it was corny, but I now find it to be a term of endearment. Another letter I received was from our friends Kenny and Lisa. They are friends of my grandparents, and are almost like my grandparents. In their letter, they told me in no uncertain circumstances that I’m stuck with them, and vice versa. I don’t find it to be a negative thing, but rather something so wonderfully positive. We all found people we could find comfort in, not necessarily filling the hole we had, but definitely easing our collective burden.
Now How Does This All Relate to Me?
Everything does. My dad was such an important figure in my life, and having to lose him made that much more of an influence in my life. It’s hard to explain, but the best example would be this. When I was a kid, he started reading To Kill a Mockingbird to me and my brother, but was unable to finish it. To this day it is one of my favorite books, and I think it’s partly due to the fact it feels like a final connection to my father. I may have liked it without his influence, but having his influence makes it so much more poignant to me. The point I’m trying to make is that I am not who I could have been had my dad survived. Do I think about who I could have been? Of course I do. But I can’t change a bit of my circumstance. I don’t regret it, even the rough times, because I learned a long time ago that even though my dad isn’t actively present in my life, his loss shaped who I am now. There are so many ways he is passively active, however. I like many of the movies and books he did, it turns out, like our collective love of Douglas Adams and Monty Python. I volunteer at Fernside so I can help kids who have been through the same things I have. I found out though that he had volunteered there himself with a group of 8th graders. When I find out these seemingly random happenstances, they don’t feel random at all. They feel like purposely placed affirmations. It seems to me that my life is like a scavenger hunt, and these affirmations are clues not for where to go, but that I’m on the right path. And honestly? I want to see where I go. Because if I’ve made it this far, I can’t wait to see where I’ll end up.
