The Scientist's Parents

When I was a child, there was a play room in the basement of my mother's house that was filled with toys of all sorts, dozens of barbies, GI Joe figurines, toy cars, dolls, legos, and much more. I had a beautiful American Girl doll complete with multiple outfits and a doll-sized bed. If my doll was not occupying the bed, my cat Snertz would gladly take my doll's place. My brothers and I are very lucky, indeed.

My mother is an avid reader. So, we also had a bountiful collection of books. Books about animals, books about history, books about dinosaurs. There were books with fantastic and terrifying tales!

I was a highly imaginative child. I made up stories and danced around the basement wearing princess dresses. Sometimes, I imagined I was a witch with awesome powers! Other times, I pretended I was a vampire and other mythical creatures. I was the girl with wild hair and a wild imagination.

When 3 years of age came to pass, I was enrolled in dance lessons. How I loved performing on stage! I loved the brilliant fabric and colors of the costumes. The stage was calling for me.

The mother and father gladly paid for these (expensive) hobbies, as well as played chauffeur.

My parents gave me Cats! for Christmas one year. I watched it everyday for the remainder of the winter.

One of my favorite rituals was my mother reading from my favorite fairy tale book.

"Read more!" I said joyfully.

"It's time for bed, Erin," my mother replied.

"But, I want to hear more stories!" I protested.

When I spent the weekend at my dad's house with my two brothers and two step brothers, we would all eat dinner together. I was enamored with my dad's tales of growing up in an exotic land called Hawai'i. He told us stories about the brothers at the Catholic school he attended and about him making boar sounds to California tourists in the forest.

"Dad, tell the story again! I want to hear the story about the spider in the phone booth!!!" I would beg him enthusiastically.

I do not recall my father reading novels, but he loved photo books of space, of animals, of history, anything interesting! We even gave him books of this sort as gifts a few times. He had one on ancient structures from all over the world. Relics of peoples and a culture long gone. I poured over the photographs of Machu Picchu, Easter Island, Stonehenge, and the Pyramids at Giza, to name a few. I wished that someday, I would get the opportunity to travel to these wonders.

"Why? Why does that happen? But, WHY???" were common questions leaving my mouth.

"I don't know, Erin. Go look it up," was the common response.

My parents readily admitted when they did not know something and inadvertently encouraged me to discover the answer. They unknowingly gave me a priceless gift.

My father had a high interest in space. He had wonderful photo books about the vastness. He loves science fiction films, especially ones with extraterrestrial plots. I grew up fascinated with the universe.

"Dad, if you had the chance to travel to outer space, would you?" I asked him once.

"Absolutely," he replied.

"Good, me too."

My parents were never scientists, but they had a large role in me becoming one. Thank you, mom and dad, for captivating my imagination and providing me with all of those books to capture my attention. You fostered my need to know, helped me develop into an inquirer, a scientist.

Where would I be without you? You gave me the encouragement and support to turn my passion of inquiry into a career path. I cannot thank you enough. I love you.