Winter | 2026
A Mind Built for Possibility
"I just want to put smiles on people's faces."

For Byron senior Alex Booker, the future isn't a fog of uncertainty—it's a horizon he's steadily walking toward with purpose, clarity, and a quiet optimism that makes you believe he'll get exactly where he intends to go. Raised in Byron since age three, when his father took a work opportunity with Nicor Gas, Alex is the kind of student whose path reflects both the opportunities of this town and the character it cultivates. He is thoughtful, grounded, academically strong, musically gifted, and athletic—all without a hint of pretense. Now, as he stands on the edge of graduation, he is ready to step into the next chapter.
Alex is an Illinois State Scholar with a transcript strengthened by AP Calculus and AP Statistics (dual credit) and a steady march through advanced math. But engineering wasn't always the plan. He explored aerospace and aeronautical engineering, then kinesiology, before ultimately deciding he had "more of an engineering mind" and fusing his interests into biomedical engineering. "I like anatomy, but also engineering," he says. "And I kind of wanted to fuse the two together." That fusion led him to Iowa State University, a campus he discovered through his youth pastor, whose daughter was touring there and invited Alex along. Its classic architecture, expanding programs, and true college-town feel struck the right chord.
His academic drive didn't appear out of thin air. It was nurtured—by parents who backed him, by teachers who guided him, and by a school culture where excellence is expected but never demanded at the expense of joy. His younger sister, Adrien, now a freshman, is already following his lead. "She's taken off on math classes," he says proudly. And of course she is—she's watched Alex show exactly what is possible.
Beyond the classroom, Alex's life has been shaped by track, cross country, and band. Track came first, beginning with sprints before he found his home in the 400, 800, and mile. That shift led him to cross country, a sport he describes with unusual warmth. "It's a family sport," he says. The camaraderie, the shared effort, the collective calm before a race—it's a culture that has wrapped itself around him. When the team went to state last year, it set an expectation. "This year was kind of expected of us by ourselves to just go for it again," he says. And those bus rides to meets? "Probably one of my favorite parts of sports teams."
His involvement in band runs just as deep. Alex has played clarinet since sixth grade and added tenor saxophone in his sophomore year. But his most visible role is drum major—voted in by the underclassmen—where he conducts the drumline, keeps the ensemble in time, and oversees marching instruction at band camp. "If you're not keeping time, nobody's keeping time," he says with a laugh. From his elevated position, he sees what performers can't: the whole picture, the visual unity of sound becoming motion.
That feeling—of being part of something bigger—is woven through what Alex values about Byron. This is, after all, a place with winning traditions and deeply connected people. "Once it's been done in the past, we try and strive to go for that same thing," he says. From football's recent championships to cross country's trip to state, excellence here tends to repeat itself. But the culture remains supportive, not cutthroat. "There can be cliques everywhere," Alex acknowledges, "but overall it's a very supportive group of people."
When he imagines his future, his vision is not of prestige but of purpose. "I picture myself maybe working in a hospital or a clinic," he says, "really just working to put smiles on people's faces." He pauses, then adds the part that reveals everything: "I don't need a job where a lot of people, like, I'm not put up on this pedestal, but I can just sit down and maybe like give somebody a prosthetic arm and they now have function in their arm and just to see the smile on their face when their life might be back to normal."
There is humility in his answer, but also unmistakable conviction. Alex doesn't want accolades. He wants usefulness. He wants a life where his work restores dignity, capability, and hope. In many ways, that's Byron at its core—quiet confidence, strong roots, high expectations, and a heart for others. And as Alex Booker prepares to leave the only hometown he's really known, he carries those values with him into a world that could use a few more engineers who think like this.
