Originally published in 2020

If you had asked me in tenth grade whether I thought I’d still be writing for a yearbook, I probably would have laughed and said, “I mean, I doubt it. Does it matter?” To be entirely honest, my mom actually pushed me to pick it up because my schedule was, in her terms, lacking in extracurriculars. Back then yearbook was just a great reason to eat pizza with my friends after school while getting mom off my back at the same time.

My interests have changed a lot over the years. In high school, my mind was set on mechanical engineering, so I took a lot of math and physics courses. My hours were filled with calculus problems, statistics graphs and force sensors, and even though none of those things were my most natural, strongest academic suit, they were a lot of fun. When I got to ORU, I realized I wanted to teach, and with my math background transitioned from engineering to secondary math education. In case you’ve never had the pleasure of writing a physics post-lab (I don’t recommend it) or a differential equations research paper (twice as confusing as it sounds), neither experience requires articulate sentence structure or artful stylistic choices when it comes to writing. Put simply, my English-oriented mind was bored.

What I didn’t realize in high school (about yearbook specifically; that would otherwise be a long list) is that I’ve always had an underlying need for creative expression through writing. Ever since I was little, my nose has been hidden remarkably often behind books ranging everywhere from The Lord of the Rings to Snow Falling on Cedars to Walden. The more I study math at ORU, the more I recognize how much I needed my experiences at Perihelion over the years. Whenever I felt like I was entering the Matrix for all the numbers in front of me, I could relax in the familiarity of the written word by covering some obscure facet of ORU’s culture. I could learn things about how the university worked, uncover the passions of the people that make it function, and hone my linguistic skills all while taking a much-needed break from my studies.

When I consider my time working for Perihelion, I’m grateful I’ve been afforded such a great opportunity. Despite all its challenges, late nights and due dates, writing for the yearbook has been fulfilling in ways my high-school self was too naïve to appreciate. Getting to know my coworkers and bonding as a team has been truly unforgettable, and my respect for ORU and its beautiful hidden details and talents has done nothing but increase.

Pierce Martin

2019-2020~ Managing Editor