Olalekan
On family, lessons, and what it means to carry a name that counts.
My name is Lekan. In Yoruba, Olalekan means "my wealth has increased by one." Aside from a love of al-dente pasta, as a third-generation teacher, an important part of my family are the lessons we share. Despite not seeing my father in the fourteen years since leaving Nigeria, I'll never forget what he imparted in me: to think critically and act with empathy. At times, as a third-culture, young Black male raised by a single parent, following this lesson while growing up in an American city felt like being a Goby fish swimming up a 300-foot waterfall. However, despite the lack of direction, following the stream was never an option.
My paternal grandmother Mary Adeyeri's death awoke in me a determination to live up to the name she gave me, not by arriving somewhere, but by adding to what was already there. Around that time, I was tasked with leading a group of high schoolers in Boston's South End, blocks from "methadone mile." The goal was to create a computer science curriculum. These students grappled with similar challenges to those I had faced. As someone who had won national and international awards building software, I spent hours attempting to develop an engaging curriculum, but to no avail. Upon remembering a media studies concept, simulacrum, I achieved success by inserting references that made the material relatable. I added memes. Once again, my definition of family grew to allow the improbable, this time through something that impacted over two hundred kids in Boston that summer.
One by one.