About Me

Profile

About: http://www.baylortoalaska.com

Hello! My name is Baylor Morrison and I was born in North Richland Hills, TX. Life as a youngster in NRH was pretty sleepy, and I spent most of my time exploring the pastures around our house, throwing rocks at passing trains, feeding the dozens of stray cats that used to stop by our porch at night. The lack of civilization meant I grew crazy close to my family. My older brother and sister are my best friends and partners in crime. My mother is a teacher who frequently proof reads my text messages and my dad is a big, friendly man who I still call night and day for advice.
Needless to say by 18 I was desperately ready to break out of my hometown and into college life. My first semester at UT must have been one of the most eye-opening experiences of my life. It felt like everything was new, and exciting, and going to change the world. I felt connected to a massive community of Longhorns, most of whom I would never meet, but all of whom believed there lives could mean something. Being a Longhorn meant your actions could ripple beyond your circle of friends and classmates and could go further, and become a force for good in thousands of lives.
That idea continues to guide me, and the organizations I joined on campus were pursued with that in mind. Some of my favorites are Camp Texas, a leadership retreat for incoming freshmen, and Texas THON, a student-run dance marathon that raises funds for Dell Children’s Medical Center. I’m also lucky enough to serve as the philanthropy chair for my fraternity, Pike.

Why I Ride

I ride for Kathryn Albert. They say it takes a village to raise a child. If that’s true my mother was the mayor and Mrs. Albert was pro tempore. My sister, Kylie, and Mrs. Albert’s oldest daughter Katelyn were childhood friends, and soon The Alberts spent all the big holidays with us: Thanksgiving, Easter, and Super Bowl Sunday. But Mrs. Albert wouldn’t truly be a force in my life until third grade, when she became my homeroom teacher. In the classroom she had a dry wit and a red pen that her students learned to fear. I wasn’t the easiest student to have in the classroom and Mrs. Albert was quick to remind me that she had my mother on speed dial. Despite my (constant) need for direction, Mrs. Albert never made me feel like a bad kid. She’d patiently explain things in an even tone and often finished with a hug. At the time I wondered why Mrs. Albert “had to be so mean all the time”. It would be years before I finally understood how much love was in all that guidance.
In the Fall of 2007, Kylie and Katelyn’s senior year, Mrs. Albert began experiencing persistent, unexplained back pain. Shortly after prom the cause was discovered: mesothelioma. Mrs. Albert at this point was already a cancer survivor. In college she underwent treatment for non-hogkins lymphoma, and was cancer free in time for graduation. Unfortunately, radiation therapy wasn’t as well understood back then as it today and doctors theorized her treatments from college played a big part in the rare cancer formed twenty years later. The community immediately rallied around Mrs. Albert, and Saturday mornings became a de facto prayer group for her and her family. Those Saturday mornings were pure outpourings of faith; even a self-absorbed 14-year-old couldn’t help but be moved by the sense of community, and the bottomless love. Mrs. Albert seemed to glow at these meetings. She continued to teach (in the same A-hallway room) during her treatment, until the cancer became more aggressive and rest became key. The tumor was in a very difficult place to treat, and she consented to an experimental chemo delivered by capsule in order to minimize harm to the delicate area. Ironically a cancer caused by shoddy radiation was treated by some of the most precise, cutting edge radiation ever.
Kathy Albert lost her battle to cancer in the winter of 2009. She was survived by her husband, two daughters, her neighbors, and hundreds of former students. The last time I saw her I was with my dad, at her bedside in the Alberts’ home. It was unseasonably warm that day but Mrs. Albert was bundled up regardless. She looked thin even under all the layers, but she smiled when she saw us and for a second she had more life than the both of us. She asked me about school and college. When I reminded her college was two years away for me, she gave me a very Mrs. Albert scold and reminded that it’s never too early to start thinking about the future. I ride for Mrs. Albert, my teacher and mentor. I ride for her and for the scores of students who missed out on her many lessons, in and out of the classroom.