Zeke, the Baker I refreshed the inbox of my Gmail account at least twenty times once the clock on my desktop hit 7:30 p.m. By 7:31, my pointer finger ached, and by 7:32, I was criticizing not only the casting director but humanity itself for its general lack of punctuality. By 7:33, I resorted to pacing around the room, half-crazy with “maybe my part is so small they didn’t bother emailing me” rants to myself, and by 7:34, I was face down on...

When I visited Northwestern, a quick lesson about stage presence from an improvisation group gave me a taste of what it’d be like to continue performing after high school. An hour-long biology lecture from a bear enthusiast about the prehistoric nature of cephalopods gave me a brief, yet captivating look into the life of a student. A stimulating talk about destiny and existence with the guys from the Allison dorm’s third floor reminded me that real zeal begins...