Today I had an early breakfast at Ivring’s with a friend. (If 8:45 is considered early morning still) An energy bagel (mmm flaxseed and raisins) smeared with a melty mix of peanut butter and honey. Plus a half decaf, half regular cup of coffee. Maybe two cups of coffee.

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My name is Kate Thompson. Well, Katharine Elizabeth Trimbur Henry Thompson, but you can call me Kate (more for your benefit than mine). I’m a freshman with intended majors in Anthropology and Communication Arts and Sciences. Most people, I’m told, participate in The Paterno Fellowship as a way to gain entry into Schreyer. I’m a tad unconventional. My deal- I’m already a Schreyer Scholar. So what lured me to The Paterno Fellowship? A single word, on a single bulleted sentence, in a single PF Pamphlet (have you seen the new ones? They’re lovely!). One. Single. Word. Travel.

Like most Penn State students, I grew up in PA. But, unlike most Penn State students, I grew up in a small sheep and goat farm outside a small town. An island of agriculture in the sea of suburbs. So while people down the road chatted with their neighbors, picked up their morning papers and walked their dog, I was side lined. My neighborhood was a field of corn. Picking up the Saturday edition of the New York Times ment a half-mile walk down our winding gravel driveway (it’s very scenic, I assure you). And I’ve done a lot of walking. Walking to school, walking our goats (I used to try walking our rabbits as a little girl, but it never ended well), but mostly walking around the same small town for eighteen years.

When I arrived at Penn State my legs were all cramped up from lack of leg room. They tingled with the pin pricks and needles that come with cramped quarters. Don’t get me wrong, I love my home. But I need to stretch out. Penn State here had me at “hello.” The Paterno Fellowship had me at “Travel.”

For me, This program is more than a chance to gain leadership skills, and earn academic honors; it’s a way for me to loose myself in the wide world extending beyond the one I’ve known. To escape into a new internationality. Not to run away from something. But rather towards it. A chance to unfold a map out on my desk, point my finger to a location that catches my fancy, and then watch it open like a flower into vivid dimensional realities of peoples and cultures and ideas. I’m ready world. Oh, and I promise, I’ll write.