By: Jacob Harris

This week was intense for the Gatton Student body. Not only were we finishing up with midterms, it was also time to submit schedules for next semester. All of the juniors and some seniors (seniors have the option of registering themselves for last semester classes) were required to upload their requested schedules to an online homework portal that went live at exactly 10:00 pm.

April Gaskey, our Coordinator for Student Success, and Derick Strode, our Assistant Director for Academic Services, registers students for classes in the order that their schedules are uploaded. The first people to upload get registered first, almost guaranteeing them a spot in their desired classes. Those further down the list are less likely to get the classes they want, as some classes fill up quickly.

I’m sure you can imagine the intensity that ensues. By 7:30 that night, all the ethernet cords had been claimed in a determined quest for faster upload speed. People were frantically comparing speed tests and hypothesizing about the quickest way to upload a file. The guys sitting next to me practiced submitting their schedules for three hours, just to cut a few seconds off their time.

Occasions like this remind me why I love Gatton. The students here care. People care about succeeding; they care about doing well. The friends I’ve made here want more voraciously than anyone I have ever met. They are hungry. They want success in college and in the professional world. They want to provide comfortable lives for their families. They want to make the world a better place. They want to expand on our scientific understanding and our capabilities as a civilization. The people I’ve met here don’t take chances; their futures are far too important to forget the little things. They study for every test and go to every review session. The friends I’ve made here capitalize on every opportunity—even those as small as a good schedule.

The Gatton Avatars have been tasked with writing an introductory blog post, and I’ve spent hours trying to think of how to articulate this blog. How do I organically introduce something as sterile as an introduction? How do I introduce myself without sounding monotonous? And to be honest, I don’t know the answer to either of those questions. So prepare yourself—this is going to be awkward for both of us.

To begin, I guess I should talk about my life pre-Gatton. I’m from Estill County, where I was homeschooled for most of my life. I heard about Gatton at a young age and at fourteen I applied and was accepted to The Gatton Academy.

While at Gatton, I pursued several research opportunities in my area of interest: medical science. I participated in WKU’s Genome Discovery and Exploration program, and under the mentorship of Dr. King I isolated and characterized the novel Mycobacteriophage Nergal, one of 9 k2 cluster phages in the world. As a k2 cluster phage, Nergal has the capacity to infect and lyse Mycobacterium tuberculosis as well as Mycobacterium smegmatis, our host medium. In addition to my work with Dr. King, I worked in the Psychology Department’s Clinical and Applied Research lab. Here I did research involving eating disorders and the behaviors of sports fans.

I’ve also had the chance to participate in a number of clubs and student interest groups since I’ve been here at Gatton. Among these are Student Government, FBLA, Stock Market club, and GALE (a community service club).

Well, how was that for an introduction? Was it bearable? As I look back over this blog, I realize that I spent a disproportionate amount of time describing my research, but I think that’s honest. At Gatton, we become consumed. Whether it be with a particular class, or research, or a personal project, we become engrossed in something and hurl ourselves into it. The Academy’s environment encourages those violent outbursts of inspiration that send students racing for their laptops or back to the lab. Gatton encourages students to be passionate, to be possessed. Gatton encourages students to explore, to research, to discover new things about the world around them. The Gatton experience breeds independence, something that radically colors how we interact with the world—both socially and academically. That independence creates individuals who feel as though a summary of their research—the sole object of their passion—most accurately introduces themselves to readers of a theoretical blog. That independence creates individuals who spend hours writing a blog that explores the philosophical effects of the Gatton experience, rather than just simply writing an introduction.