The study of astronomy is said to be a humbling experience, and I for one feel truly humbled by astronomers, physicists, and the men and women who make history by sharing their discoveries with the rest of humanity, oftentimes in the face of ridicule, exile, or even execution. Without the shifts in the human paradigm brought about by the sacrifices made and the struggles endured by these people, neither you nor I would be able to view the cosmos as we do today. I have been curious about the nature of my surroundings for, quite literally, as long as I can remember. I have experienced many shifts in my own paradigm in the three decades that I have lived. As a child of modest upbringing, as a young naval reactor mechanic, and as a man who knows all too well what it means to struggle, please allow me to share with you some of my story.
I learned at an early age that magical things like dragons, unicorns, and even Santa Claus don't exist. It seemed that every new thing I learned about reality had the potential to displace the magic of my worldview into the realm of imagination. I remember wondering what good imagination was if none of it was real, but at age six my imagination made amends with reality over a box of Cracker Jacks. I never liked Cracker Jacks that much. I would eat the peanuts and then dig through the popcorn to get to the prize. I was doing just that when I noticed a peculiarity about the sailor printed on the box. He was holding a box that had a smaller sailor printed on it, and I could make out an even smaller sailor on that box. I quickly abandoned the effort to dig for the toy and began to probe into my imagination to ponder how small the sailors could get. I then turned to my own hand and thought that I might be the sailor on some bigger box that I couldn't see, and I wondered how big they could get. I couldn't fathom an end in either direction. I had stumbled upon infinity, an idea that came from my imagination, which turned out to be a real thing. I had no way of knowing that I would become a real sailor myself one day.
Upon graduating high school I went directly into the United States Navy where I was put through my paces at Naval Nuclear Power Training Command in Goose Creek, SC. My next step was to the Nuclear Prototype Training Unit in Ballston Spa, NY, where I acquired hands-on knowledge of how to operate and maintain a pressurized water reactor, and what to do in case of a reactor casualty. I completed my training with an overall GPA of 3.2 and was certified by the DOD and DOE as a nuclear mechanical operator. In August of 2000, I received orders to serve onboard the U.S.S. Harry S. Truman. This was the proudest time of my life, but all of the pride in all of my accomplishments couldn't stop what was about to happen. I was onboard when the Twin Towers fell. I remember the fear of the potential for another strike. I bore witness to the vicious fanaticism that followed. My country's quest for vengeance turned into a witch-hunt right in front of me. We turned our eyes to Iraq, and without any solid incriminating evidence, we began "Operation Iraqi Freedom". My duty as a sailor was on a collision course with my conscience. I followed orders and kept the steam flowing, but resolved to spend my civilian life in pursuit of understanding. This resolve still resides in the man I am today.
Now, at the age of thirty-two, I am faced with a different kind of adversity. I must balance my coursework with making ends meet. Every day is a struggle to which I willingly submit myself. You may notice that my college GPA is not as stellar as some other candidates may be, but I will say this: I love cosmology, mathematics, physics, playing guitar, working on cars, tinkering with electronics, cooking, and building things from scratch. I am good at all of these things, but I am not the best at any of them. This does not stop me from enjoying them and sharing what I learn. The curriculum for the astronomy program does look intimidating. Nuke school was no different in that respect, but I did that then and I can do this now.
So this is me. I am the disillusioned child that discovers how real and important his imagination is. I am the young sailor, trying to make peace with his soul. I am the man whose love outweighs his struggles. I am Wesley Everett Suhler: future astronomer. Thank you for your consideration.
I learned at an early age that magical things like dragons, unicorns, and even Santa Claus don't exist. It seemed that every new thing I learned about reality had the potential to displace the magic of my worldview into the realm of imagination. I remember wondering what good imagination was if none of it was real, but at age six my imagination made amends with reality over a box of Cracker Jacks. I never liked Cracker Jacks that much. I would eat the peanuts and then dig through the popcorn to get to the prize. I was doing just that when I noticed a peculiarity about the sailor printed on the box. He was holding a box that had a smaller sailor printed on it, and I could make out an even smaller sailor on that box. I quickly abandoned the effort to dig for the toy and began to probe into my imagination to ponder how small the sailors could get. I then turned to my own hand and thought that I might be the sailor on some bigger box that I couldn't see, and I wondered how big they could get. I couldn't fathom an end in either direction. I had stumbled upon infinity, an idea that came from my imagination, which turned out to be a real thing. I had no way of knowing that I would become a real sailor myself one day.
Upon graduating high school I went directly into the United States Navy where I was put through my paces at Naval Nuclear Power Training Command in Goose Creek, SC. My next step was to the Nuclear Prototype Training Unit in Ballston Spa, NY, where I acquired hands-on knowledge of how to operate and maintain a pressurized water reactor, and what to do in case of a reactor casualty. I completed my training with an overall GPA of 3.2 and was certified by the DOD and DOE as a nuclear mechanical operator. In August of 2000, I received orders to serve onboard the U.S.S. Harry S. Truman. This was the proudest time of my life, but all of the pride in all of my accomplishments couldn't stop what was about to happen. I was onboard when the Twin Towers fell. I remember the fear of the potential for another strike. I bore witness to the vicious fanaticism that followed. My country's quest for vengeance turned into a witch-hunt right in front of me. We turned our eyes to Iraq, and without any solid incriminating evidence, we began "Operation Iraqi Freedom". My duty as a sailor was on a collision course with my conscience. I followed orders and kept the steam flowing, but resolved to spend my civilian life in pursuit of understanding. This resolve still resides in the man I am today.
Now, at the age of thirty-two, I am faced with a different kind of adversity. I must balance my coursework with making ends meet. Every day is a struggle to which I willingly submit myself. You may notice that my college GPA is not as stellar as some other candidates may be, but I will say this: I love cosmology, mathematics, physics, playing guitar, working on cars, tinkering with electronics, cooking, and building things from scratch. I am good at all of these things, but I am not the best at any of them. This does not stop me from enjoying them and sharing what I learn. The curriculum for the astronomy program does look intimidating. Nuke school was no different in that respect, but I did that then and I can do this now.
So this is me. I am the disillusioned child that discovers how real and important his imagination is. I am the young sailor, trying to make peace with his soul. I am the man whose love outweighs his struggles. I am Wesley Everett Suhler: future astronomer. Thank you for your consideration.
