I learned an important scientific lesson on the first morning of high school: my worth was less than or equal to “pond scum.” It was a simple fact according to my future English professor, my freshman year would be hell and there was simply no way to avoid it.

Of course, like every other scrawny 14-year-old in that tiny classroom, I was silently outraged. How could this woman who barely knew any of us make us feel meaningless after a mere three minutes into reading the syllabus? I casually laughed it off with my new best friend Katie who, amidst wiping away her tears, seemed genuinely excited about this class.

Now I knew Katie pretty well, we were introduced earlier that morning in Biology class, so obviously I wrote her excitement off as mere first day jitters. I, on the other hand was terrified. Not only would I have to read 16 novels, preform Romeo and Juliet and create a fictitious game board after the Odyssey in the first semester, but apparently in high school teachers taught scientific equations in English class, too. So, seeing as I didn’t want to create any waves on my first day, I kept my little guppy mouth shut.

I went forward after the bell rang thinking I knew absolutely nothing about this new place but I knew I was certainly not pond scum. So I made a promise to myself: each day from then on I would strive to get more involved in anything beyond my piles of homework just to prove her wrong. Of course, that lasted only about seven minutes as I quickly obsessed over something I felt much more important at the time, the contents within my lunchbox.

As I look back to that day, I will be the first to declare, that I, Mike Trobiano was indeed pond scum. And I’m damn proud of it. I realize now that I had to be at the bottom of the molecular food chain to mature from somewhere. (Maybe this was just my professor’s way of messing with my head to work harder? Well played.) Regardless, no matter what name I was called, I know I’m not alone.

Our cover story for the 2011 Sept. Orientation Issue features 10 individuals who are profiled for what they do each day selflessly for our community. They represent the talents of UT and not popularity. We are not suggesting that this list is a comprehensive study of all the graduating seniors however, we are certain without a doubt, these individuals are some of the hardest working and devoted from the class of 2012.

I expect to find my inbox filled with the names of those students we’ve overlooked and I encourage the tirate emails. But for those of you doing great things know our pond is small and your waves are being felt. (Yes, all corny puns intended.)