Tuesday, Dr. Nancy Dawson’s black studies class ventured outside the classroom to Kereiakes Park. About 20 students gathered under a shed. Kroger bags filled with corn and onions sat on the red picnic tables next to tin pans of jollof rice, cabbage, black beans and other common West African foods cooked by the students.

Scottsville Road and Campbell Lane are saturated with restaurants. National chains and local gems give Western students options, no matter how varying their taste buds.

But down State Street, where it becomes Old Louisville Road, is a quaint restaurant, called The Cabin.

Q1:What is your favorite childhood memory? A: I was the Nutcracker in a fourth-grade play. I got to march around with a sword the whole time. Q2:What are you buying your mom for Mother’s Day? A: She loves to plant flowers, so there are two empty pots on her porch that I’ve been keeping my eyes on.

At each entrance of the Downing University Center, a large vertical banner greets passers-by, donning the WKU Film Festival details. In the sparsely populated DUC theater, students and filmmakers gathered to view student films and a professional feature. Monday night’s feature was Nashville producer/director Zac Adams’ documentary about a sinister spirit that haunted the Bell family of Robertson County, Tenn., in the early 1800s.

Austin Ashford, a freshman from Oakland, Calif., stood on the stairs of his friend’s house, playfully teasing the camera as the flash illuminated the porch.

“I could do this all day,” he said. “Hopefully, I’ll get used to doing it more.”

Ashford, a boastful, gregarious young man, is no stranger to fame.

As a child, Louisville junior Roseline Twagiramariya was calm and constantly smiling.

A group of men in white button-down shirts, jeans and black suspenders were scattered around the stage in Diddle Arena Sunday evening. For more than three weeks, the men of Phi Delta Theta practiced their routine for Spring Sing.

A phone call changed her life.

In December 2008, Louisville junior Bryttnee Price got a call from her old friend about an audition for a gospel group.

“Everyone I know always tells me to audition for things and become a singer,” Price said. “That was never what I wanted to do.

Down short gravel roads, through parking lots and past gated playing fields, the Gold Dome is tucked behind Lampkin Park.

Inside, 10 men are scattered around the open, nearly empty pavilion, transforming it from a damp, lifeless space to an intense, colorful boxing ring.

Shane Payton grew up in a town of about 700. He wasn’t exposed to much, but the Caneyville freshman found a way to see the world from his window.

“Music is something we all understand,” Payton said. “That’s why it’s so powerful.”

Payton sat on a stool in his bedroom, surrounded by hometown friends, his keyboard and his acoustic guitars.