Featured Article
That's My Fire
—Cover Story (in Soul Sistah; Issue 2)
Ogonna Nneka Nnamani sits down with me on a quiet Saturday morning in the kitchen of Casa Italiana. Comfy in pajamas and a T-shirt, she greets everyone who walks by with more than a hello—she seems aware of what is happening in each of their lives, and is (amazingly) able to keep everything straight. This is not what I typically expect from a Stanford Star Olympic athlete, but Ogonna is anything but typical. Friends and acquaintances alike comment on her cheerful humility, her calm sense of spirit, and her outgoing friendliness. As she says, “I just love people. If you tell me your name, I will remember it. I like learning from people.”
Even during the Olympics in Athens, while she competed among the best athletes in the world, sports announcers marveled at her presence. One announcer commented, “Her smile just lights up the entire room.” On paper, Ogonna is a stunning figure—in person, she’s inspiring.
Ogonna was born in Bloomington, Illinois, where she grew up with her close-knit family. Her parents, who are both originally from Nigeria, left for the U.S. in 1979 to go to college. “My parents made it through this crazy world, and succeeded here after coming all of this way — that was divine intervention.” Ogonna’s father later worked at Illinois State, making his children familiar with college life from a very early age. Ogonna remembers, “I grew up in the dorms. I used to sit on the cafeteria lady’s lap while she scanned cards — I’m all about the college life!”
Stanford, however, entered her plans in an unconventional way. “Let me be honest …I wanted to go to Stanford after watching Saved by the Bell. Remember Jessie? She always talked about going to Stanford. I was obsessed with that show, so I always wanted to come here.” And while she claims that no one thought of her as “the smart girl,” her family’s emphasis on education was strong. “I would call my grandparents and tell them about the state championship we won, or something about volleyball, and they would just say ‘That’s nice’ and ask me how my grades were. That was their first concern.” This begins to explain why Ogonna seems so down to earth. “I’m just a person. Who am I to say, ‘I play volleyball?’”
Ogonna’s respect and devotion to her family is immediately obvious. “I’ve always remembered how hard my parents worked when I was growing up. That’s always been a distinctive memory of mine—how hard both of them worked, just to make us comfortable, to help us do well…all of their work was basically focused on us. My brothers and sisters and I — we grew up together, we worked hard, we were kids together.” She has certainly upheld the Nnamani work ethic — Ogonna not only made it to the Olympics, she did it with acute asthma that has put her in and out of the hospital since childhood. In fact, doctors told her that she should not play sports out of concern for her health. To those that know her now, this seems laughable; however, it is anything but. Two days before I met with her, she had had a severe asthma attack.
Her family — an ever-present pillar of support — has played a pivotal role in overcoming this hardship. Ogonna describes them as being very active and encouraging. “My family would run at the track, and my dad would just say, ‘Let’s go, give it a try.’” By her side on the court and in the hospital — where she once had an attack so bad she spent two weeks in the Intensive Care Unit — her family watched her grow into the stellar athlete she is today. However, this does not mean that Ogonna wants to forget how hard it was. Instead, she wants to be an inspiration to young people with the same difficulty. She remembers being in awe of Jackie Joyner-Kersee, who also suffered from severe asthma, when she saw her race in the Olympics. “I saw her running, and I found out she had asthma too, and I thought — wow!” As an Olympic athlete, Ogonna is now a similar source of inspiration, but she still wants to do more. “I want people to know about this, and let people know that you can still do what you want, you can still play sports and have fun.” As with many of her accomplishments, Ogonna shrugs off her recent achievement. Concentrating on her own trials with asthma, she summed it up for me quietly, “Everybody has their struggles. You just have to get through, ask God for help.”
Ogonna can testify that this works. While we sit, she tells me a story about a potentially fatal day during the sixth grade. She was in a swimming pool during P.E.— and she couldn’t get to the surface. While sinking under, Ogonna remembered seeing someone under with her, but she never knew who it was. Seconds later, a teacher dove to her rescue. To this day, Ogonna knows how lucky she was. She is sure she met her guardian angel that day, and she hasn’t forgotten that protective presence since.
While Ogonna’s faith is a huge part of her life, it’s not likely that she will preach to you about it. She is open to questions about her beliefs, but she makes it clear that she is not a missionary. “It’s a natural process, it’s very personal. I mean, it’s a personal journey.” However, there is no ambiguity about the drive she gets from her faith. Her faith makes her feel protected; it is amazing to know that she is being watched over. Her sense of peace within her faith is easy to discern. When I ask what role spirituality plays in her life, Ogonna throws her head back and lets out a loud, happy laugh. “It’s…oh, it’s everything. It’s been an unfailing part of my life. That’s my fuel, that’s my fire.”