NANCY OFFER died last Christmas Eve. It was fitting that she died on a holiday, considering the joy and comfort she brought to so many lives. It took me a while to finish this painting. A part of it was that I kept putting it off. I didn’t want to confront my own sadness. I still don’t. Another part of it was that I couldn’t get her nose right. She had a great nose. But hopefully this likeness does her justice... even though the nose isn’t quite right.
I didn’t have this painting ready in time for her funeral. I didn’t even make it to her funeral in February. I had work that weekend. I regret it. Maybe I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, either.
Nancy was a kind mentor in my life at a time when I needed one. She was a patient parent at a time when my parents and I didn’t get along. We usually didn’t get along. When I was grounded for the final semester of my senior year at LGHS, because I got into a car accident, and forbidden by my parents from attending senior prom, Nancy slipped me some money so I could sneak away and rent a limo. I promised I’d pay her back. “Don’t pay me back,” she told me. “Just pay it forward some day.” I haven’t yet. But I will.
Nancy co-founded a publication called REALITY CHECK. Reality Check gave students at my high school, including myself, a space to write about our experiences, a space to write about things that were too real for the school paper. We released a new issue each month. We had issues about dysfunctional families. Issues about bullying. Issues about eating disorders. Issues about violence. Issues about sex. Issues about pregnancy. Issues about issues. We wrote about the realities of our high school lives in a community that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Our stories were anonymous, and submitted by all kinds of students: jocks, preps, stoners, punks, metalheads, drop-outs, underachievers, overachievers, rich kids, poor kids, homeless kids. Many people had stories to tell. In doing so, we realized that we weren’t alone.
I joined Reality Check and helped with graphic design, printing, and collecting and soliciting anonymous stories from my peers. I wrote a few myself, too. It helped. The Reality Check team was mostly combined of college-bound kids with many extracurriculars. I didn’t really fit in. But ultimately I, too, became a college-bound kid with many extracurriculars. I pitched Reality Check to the Rotary Club, thanks to the help of my boss at the time, Dr. Coughlin. The Rotary, among others, provided the funding that kept our monthly newsletter in print.
Word got out about Reality Check. We were nominated for, and won, the Golden Bell award. This was a big deal. They hosted us at a fancy banquet dinner in San Francisco. We were celebrated. It was wonderful. And my involvement with Reality Check helped me get accepted to Pitzer College.
Nancy helped change the course of my life, and, more importantly, she helped many of us find a voice, find solidarity and commonality with our peers, and realize that we are not alone in the world.
Nancy was a source of honesty and kindness, both qualities that seem sometimes rare, and she encouraged honesty and kindness in others. She is proof that an individual can make an impact on their communities in a significant way. I regret not keeping in touch with her better, and I am comforted only by the fact that I know that she would, as usual, understand.
I never talked with Nancy much about religion. I’ve never been very religious. I think she was, a bit. At least she believed in kindness, and generosity, and inclusion, and truth. Nancy’s spirit has moved on. But Nancy’s spirit also lives on in all of us who were blessed enough to know her.
Thank you, Nancy.