Austin Hudson-Lapore

I sit perched at the very front of my chair, leaning forward over the table with one hand holding a pencil and the other hovering over a buzzer, as I listen carefully to the moderator.

“Which of the following substances would be least likely to diffuse through a typical plasma membrane? W – propane; X – methanol; Y – potassium–”

The moderator is suddenly and jarringly interrupted before he can say “Z – carbon dioxide,” as a cacophony of eight buzzers being furiously and repeatedly pressed fills the room. Luckily, I see my buzzer’s light illuminate, and I know I have touched the button a fraction of a second before any of my teammates or opponents have. I confidently give my answer, “Y,” to the moderator, fully aware that everyone else knew the answer just as well as I did. I had simply reacted that fraction of a second more quickly to win a “buzzer race” and earn points and a bonus question for my team.

This is a typical moment in Science Bowl, a fiercely contested academic competition in which I participate as one member on a team of four. Many successful teams have just one prominent member, one who can correctly and quickly answer toss-up questions, but national winners are inevitably balanced teams that work as one to solve the challenging but much more valuable bonus questions. I am proud to be a member of a team that fits the latter model. In place of athletics, Science Bowl has taught me the value of both teamwork and individual effort, while simultaneously building strong friendships with my teammates and fellow participants. Most importantly, I find it exceptionally fun.

Perhaps the enjoyment I derive from Science Bowl is due to my closest friends, who are all either on my team or on a competing one. Perhaps it’s due to the thrill of making the key buzz in closely contested matches, my passion for learning science, or even the free trip to Washington, D.C., for the national competition. Most likely, though, it’s due to a combination all of these factors. Otherwise, I would find it difficult to explain my sitting awake on a Friday night four months from the regional competition and wishing that it took place the next day. I would also be hard-pressed to explain that my team and I have sleepovers at my house that involve answering sample questions and studying concepts we haven’t yet covered in class.

With that passion and dedication, which my teammates all share, we have advanced to the national level four times. In 2006, when we were in eighth grade and in our final year of the middle school competition, we found ourselves in the championship round, pitted against the previous year’s winners. The previous year, they had taken an unexpected come-from-behind victory against a team whose captain had earned the nickname “The Hammer” for his speed and forcefulness with the buzzer. We, however, could not recreate their impressive performance from the previous year and lost to them narrowly.

Since that second-place finish, our opponents have become stronger: we have advanced to the high school competition, where students are more motivated to do well, and interest in Science Bowl has steadily grown throughout our time as participants. For those reasons, we have not found quite the success we did in middle school, but ultimately, the national competition is less about your placement than it is about the experience of simply being there: the learning, the friendships, and the fun. I have grown even closer to my teammates as we immerse ourselves in the exciting atmosphere of a competition we all love. But the formation of new or strengthened bonds is not limited to those you know. In our first year at National Science Bowl in tenth grade, we befriended a dynamic and outgoing team, and conversed during our downtime about topics far more varied than the one at hand, indicating that our connection was deeper than that of mere acquaintances. We happened to compete against them, and lost, but we still watched excitedly as they, despite being unknown and relatively young, proceeded to handily defeat several established teams to place second. We all still regularly keep in touch.

Science Bowl is something that truly means a lot to me, and on multiple levels. My strong interest in science and my love for this competition each feed off the other, which will probably influence my choice of career. The opportunity those two passions give me to attend the national event is valuable for the friendships it builds and for the sheer enjoyment of it. It had also taught me a tremendous amount, both in science and in life. For me, it is more than just an activity. It is an integral part of being a student with a love of science.

Fall is the time for college recruiters to visit Albuquerque Academy to speak with prospective students.
Today we had a visit from Andrea Mondragon, our rep from the University of Chicago. Despite her busy schedule for the afternoon, Andrea wanted to go out to our Medicine Wheel on campus after she was done talking to our current seniors. She brought a small token from the Univeristy of Chicago, which she left at the Medicine Wheel in memory of Austin. It was a glorious day, and we shared some thoughts and memories of him in the serenity of this beautiful place.

A L B U Q U E R Q U E   A C A D E M Y
         S E N I O R   E V A L U A T I O N

           Austin Reed Hudson-Lapore

Despite his diminutive stature, Austin Hudson-Lapore is a giant. Rendered irresistible by his cheerful disposition and winning smile, Austin captivates both teachers and other students with his boundless enthusiasm for learning. In conversation and in class, he wields a tremendous intellect, scintillating with eager curiosity and driven by desire to learn. Truly, Austin navigates the life of the mind with fluid ease and grace.

Austin's eagerness to discuss complicated ideas with any and all comers has, in the past, had mixed results.  As a younger student, he sometimes unwittingly intimidated other students and even teachers with his academic boldness. A true student of life, however, Austin has developed a gentler mode of discussion. Now, he waits to hear what others have to say before he comments, taking care to credit the valid points in others' arguments. In sum, Austin's EQ is just as impressive as his lQ. Equally impressive is his stellar grade point average and standardized test scores. Teachers enthusiastically expound on Austin's exceptional qualities:

     Austin will go down in Albuquerque Academy history as one of its finest science students. He lives, eats and breathes science. Although his knowledge is vast and he is comfortable sharing it, he never makes a person feel ignorant. (Science Bowl Coach)

    Meticulous, careful, brilliant, capable and confident, Austin is unreservedly the best student I have ever taught.Even in the tenth grade, he displayed an extremely rare synthesis of all his learning so the world as he knows it is self-consistent.  Austin is thus able to derive just about anything from first principles, and he enjoys the puzzle, the challenge of doing so almost as much as he is rewarded by the understanding he gains in doing so. Even at the college level, I have never encountered his equal in one of my students. (Advanced Placement Chemistry)

    During the essay workshop at senior retreat Austin stood out from all the other students in both groups with the care and insight of his comments. He was the only student who chose to read another person's essay out loud in its entirety because he thought it was an excellent example. Even to someone who knows him casually, his facile mind and his deep heart are readily apparent. (College Adviser)

In his extracurricular activities, Austin remains a most formidable competitor. A key participant in Science Bowl throughout middle and high school, Austin and his self-selected team have attended the national tournament each year, with excellent results. On our Science Olympiad team, which has gone to the national tournament for the duration of his high school participation, Austin is the kid who can do it all-when one student is unable to cover his event for any reason, Austin steps in and does a bang-up job.

During summers, Austin earns spending cash and gives back to the school as a teaching assistant for summer classes, where his enthusiasm for learning and ability to offer alternate explanations greatly enhance the students' experience. On reflection, Austin states: "Being a teaching assistant taught me how to work with, interact with, and teach kids, while also letting me learn when to step back and let other people do all the thinking and learning themselves." Summer school teachers invariably give Austin the highest marks in his evaluations as a TA and request him for the following year.

Although he may appear overly bookish at a first glance, Austin has demonstrated compassion and grace to match his intellect. We expect him to continue becoming a social phenomenon as well as an academic one. As much as we will miss his delightful character, his incisive wit, and most of all his unceasing pursuit of knowledge and delight in learning,  we are glad to send him on to you, the next step. We are confident that you will find him as amazing as we have, and we envy you the joy of this discovery.

For those of you who may not know me, I’m Ezra Depperman. I taught Austin Chemistry, I coached him in Science Olympiad, and I was fortunate enough to be chosen as his adviser for his senior year. I’m grateful to Laurie, Gregg, and Aidan for inviting me to speak today.

From the start of class, it was obvious that Austin was exceptional. Though he was in the ninth grade when he took my class, based on his slight build and small stature, you might have wondered why a mid-schooler was taking Chemistry. But when you heard Austin speak, the question you were more likely to ask was “what is a college student doing in high school?”

When I’d pose the most difficult questions to the class, the questions nobody else could answer, Austin would always have some thoughtful and insightful discourse on the matter. And he was frequently able to expound far beyond the intended scope of the question. How Austin was able to do this without being regarded by his classmates as a “super nerd” was somewhat mysterious to me at first.

I’ll never forget one incident when I presented a question to which I naively thought I knew the answer. (Not that this was the first time I’d ever been stumped, mind you, but in the past I’d been able to avoid the appearance of ignorance). I was lecturing about subatomic particles. I presented the class with the masses of protons, neutrons, and electrons. I then posited that an atom’s mass should be the sum of the masses of the particles comprising it. Now the masses you’ll find in any periodic table are based on the standard of a single carbon-12 atom weighing exactly 12 amu. And a carbon-12 atom contains six protons, 6 neutrons, and 6 electrons. So, without having tried this calculation myself beforehand, I asked the class to add up the combined masses of 6 protons, 6 neutrons and 6 electrons. To my dismay, the result was NOT exactly 12 amu. It was slightly more.

I was befuddled. I had a feeling that, this time, blaming “rounding error” just wouldn’t cut it. I was stammering, deciding whether or not to succumb to panic, when Austin came to my rescue. Raising his hand, he looked me calmly in the eye and stated,  “I think I know where the extra mass goes.” To my great wonder, amazement, and delight, Austin wrote the equation E = mc2 on the board and proceeded to expound on relativity, and how the formation of elements from their subatomic particles produces energy. That this energy comes from the conversion of mass, and it can be calculated from the mass defect using Einstein’s most famous equation. Now I had just finished my PhD in physical chemistry, and I thought I knew the subject pretty well, but apparently, there were some holes in my education. To be upstaged by this diminutive ninth-grader should have been humiliating. And I was humbled, but Austin delivered his brilliant explanation with such a sense of wonder, intellectual curiosity, and joyful enthusiasm, that I totally forgot that I was supposed to feel humiliated.

The lessons Austin taught that day have become a part of my teaching. Even now, I present the subject of mass defect the same way: having the students perform the calculation and then discussing why the result is not as expected. Turns out that these are the instances when you learn the most in science, when a result is different from what you expect. Moreover, having been gently humbled by Austin, I’ve learned that my students have just as much to teach me as I have to teach them.

Even as a small child, Austin was an eager student of anything and everything he found interesting.  Observing the world around him, Austin would hypothesize about its behavior, make careful observations, and revise his hypotheses as necessary. Not taking anything for granted, Austin became proficient at using the scientific method at an age years younger than most people are when they first hear the expression “Scientific Method”. As deeply as Austin’s loss hurts, we can at least derive some comfort in the fact that he spent his final moments engaged in the activity he loved most. That’s something we should all aspire to.

Now, ninth graders with a working understanding of relativity are still somewhat rare, even at the Academy. But the spirit of inquiry that Austin brought to class every day, the sense that the universe is comprehensible if we only care to observe, is alive and well. If Austin were here today, I’m sure he’d agree that among the greatest joys in life is learning about ourselves and this beautiful world we inhabit, and sharing that understanding with others. Saying “yes” to new experiences rather than putting them off for later.   And it’s not just science – Any idea that piqued his interest, Austin would engage with fully. For instance, he also loved Nascar (Right? From early childhood, Austin loved anything with wheels). Studying drivers’ past performance on different courses, he would predict the outcome of the current race. He loved politics – Austin would get the numbers from county elections and try to use them to predict the results of national elections (mind you, this was before anyone had even heard of Nate Silver). He was even a formidable opponent in the game, Scrabble. Austin’s example urges us all, regardless of what our passion may be, to seize opportunities to learn and to share our learning and enthusiasm with others. That’s the true joy in learning – the Joy that nobody knew better than Austin. 

Austin's life was so full, but too short. He was one of those souls whose impact far exceeded the time available to make this impact. He has been on my mind each day here, as I work with emerging educational leaders from around the world, looking at them and wondering what would have emerged from Austin's contribution to others through a longer lifetime, now denied to him and the world.

Rarely do we see such a curious, interesting, accomplished, mature person at such a young age, and rarely do we see such a thoughtful and loving family through all the steps of this tragic loss.

Let me add my thanks to everyone showing so much love for Austin and the family over the events of the past few weeks.  

"Death sucks.
It shatters and cripples the lives it touches…

But tonight, I’ve gained a new understanding of death. You could say I found the beauty in it. Not in a way that would make it pleasant or bearable… But more of a way that I can try and learn something about myself from each loss I am hit with.

Tonight, one of my most cherished communities said goodbye to a beautiful soul named Austin. He fully embodied the Albuquerque Academy. In his spirit, his contributions, and his presence. He was a genius among a sea of many masquerading as such. But a humble genius.

While I shared too little in conversation with him during our time at Academy, I left his memorial tonight with new memories shared by his loved ones, professors, and my fellow Academy alumni.

To me, Austin had always been the boy with the rolling backpack. The image of him sprinting up the pathway to North Hall, his ID lanyard flying in the wind behind him as he passed, will be how I forever see him. Thankfully, I will also now be able to carry with me the memory of his essence, something I was missing, and had not grasped or come to know until tonight’s service.

Austin was always kind. Everybody knew that. But tonight I learned of his passion for and dedication to learning. How he loved to try new things, and embraced the possibilities that so many of us happily go through our days ignoring.

His father left the mourners with an inspiring challenge and request, brought on by the way Austin lived. He encouraged us to remember and honor Austin by challenging ourselves to say ‘yes’ more. To go that extra mile on a hike. To go to classical music concerts and just, be, in the full moment of the music. To tell everybody we love, just how much we love them, unapologetically. Because why not? Why not tell your friends you love them, every chance you get? It’s the truth isn’t it?

I spoke a few words of how I will remember Austin, and for that his family thanked me. But I should have been thanking them. And thanking Austin. His death rocked our community. But it also brought us together, hopefully, strengthening the bounds already there, and establishing the ones not yet built.

So tonight, I start anew. And for that, I thank you, Austin.
Say hi to Nick and Lt. Casey while you’re up there. Hope you all have one, big, rollicking heck of an Academy reunion."

I'd like to reconstruct one teacher's view of Austin's 7th grade year, 2004 thru 2005, But before he got together with us, his new Pod and teachers, we the teachers already knew Austin. How could you miss him? We knew him because he was the 6th grade kid who scampered around the West Campus by himself or with others as if always on some imaginary adventure.Whether the first or last day of school, when you saw him and he saw you, he always shared his smile. And then we smiled. It felt great to be around him. Beginning in August 2004, we learned of his clear-headed intentions, his sharp mind, his commitment to each assignment, his willingness and abiltiy to work well with fellow students. The attention he gave us and his peers were signs of commitment to us, himself, others, and a belief in the entire school environment. I began to sense that his life was not about achievements and outdoing others, although he was competitive and usually was well ahead of most, but more about touchstones. I mean living for life itself. Austin was smart enough to absorb and take whatever we were doing to a higher personal level. I can't entirely speak for others, but I can vouch for what I heard and what he learned. He was a student in a team-based program and we knew our kids. I know what I saw, what I heard, and in all cases I was mesmerized by his initiative and commitment to learning. Other teachers were, too. His peers as well. He was developing a quiet following and unbeknownst to him or us, a legendary presence. I would never have said that almost a decade ago, but I think the process was underway. My sense is that legendary people don't think about becoming that special person to be put on a pedestal, and certainly Austin was the humble servant of learning. Life came to him as he asserted himself in it and expressed it. He was and is life. Austin was the kid with the big smile, the innocent curiosity, the engager, the optimist, a bright student who was as well suited for indoor work as outdoor work, or play. Austin loved the capture the flag "Turkish Game" as much as he loved digging into challenging research projects. He never missed a beat. My view was that Austin devoured our offerings and extended himself in each and every activity. He never flinched from challenges, but rather embraced every experience as a valuable opportunity rather than an ongoing series of tasks and problems. He was always connecting the dots: academic, experiential, personal, interpersonal, nature... all encompassing. The rhythm of his heart beats on for everyone who knew him, whom he touched, and for what he represented. Life itself.   

Greg, Laurie, and Aidan,
Gil, Julia, Jacob, and I are so saddened to hear of Austin’s death and are still in a state of shock about it. When I think of this as the worst possible thing to happen, losing a child/brother, and what you must be going through right now, I feel physically ill.
Some years ago I learned from a dear friend who had lost her only child, a teenage girl of 15, in an automobile accident, that one never forgets the trauma, but that with time people become able to live their lives again. I also learned that although memories can painfully remind us of our loss, with time they can become a great source of peace. I am so thankful that you were able to make so many wonderful memories together as a family.
I feel privileged to have been able to share some time with Austin on his life’s journey. Actually, journeying to and from Albuquerque Academy every day for about 6 years was an amazing opportunity for me to see your beautiful son grow to manhood. Thank you for trusting me to get him safely to and from school during those years. My memories of him will always be of those years, from the serious, kind, and energetic young sixth grader with his rolling backpack racing to class everyday with an enthusiasm for life that made him stand out from his peers, to the thoughtful, quiet young ninth grader dressed in his Copernicus costume for Medieval Day activities at school. I loved that Austin chose to play cello; and I secretly took pride in the fact that, after Jacob joined the carpool, I was probably the only parent/driver with two cellos stuffed in the back of her car. I delighted in the car conversations – with Austin in the car you could bet that the conversation stayed focused and rational; however, I never ever heard him say an unkind word to anyone. And the other students in the car became confident over time that they would always be adequately clothed for whatever weather came their way because they only had to consult with Austin to know what lay in store for them.
It was a pleasure to watch Austin excel academically in everything he undertook, but most especially in science, where he had the opportunity to revel in scientific facts with like-minded friends and be a member of one of the most amazing Science Bowl teams Academy has ever had. One day during his Junior year in high school, when he happened to be the only student riding home, he had his humanities book laying open in his lap. I asked him what he thought of the subject matter, and he said he found it “interesting.” Since it had crossed my mind that Austin would probably be responsible for some great scientific discovery someday, the educator in me commented that I thought it was important that scientists possess a thorough understanding of human culture and history. Austin was respectfully quiet as I talked and I knew he was giving my comments due consideration. I believe that even at age 16 he understood the importance of the scientist’s role in human society. He was that sophisticated and mature.
And so as I have reflected with a heavy heart on the loss of Austin, his goodness, his potential, and after hearing what he has meant to his family and friends, I have come to realize that Austin has left behind something far more important and profound than any scientific discovery. Austin has left us a model of a life well-lived. He has shown us how to be fully engaged and joyous in life. I hope to pay tribute to his memory by trying to learn and live in this way. I am so thankful to have known Austin!

I first met Austin because he was a TA for a science class I took. I didn't mean any offense to the teacher, but I was pretty sure I learned more from Austin than from the actual teacher. He seemed much more accessible and willing to answer my questions, even though some of them were probably silly to him. Austin was a lot of the reason why I looked forward to that class and why I now love science as much as he did.

I didn't have to know him outside of the scientific realm to know that he was an intelligent and kind person, though I wish I did. Rest in peace, Austin, and know that you won't be forgotten among your family and friends.

I met Austin ten years ago in Juniper pod Village four. He was one of my closest friends and an incredibly smart, talented and kind human being. I will miss him dearly.