The Rhodes Race

the first thing that Meredith Carter* did when she bombed her interview for the Rhodes and Marshall scholarships was phone home.

The second was flee to the woods.

"I called my mom," the senior says. "And then I went to go pick some mushrooms in the forest. I broke down with the mushrooms. Right there. In front of them."

It's a ridiculous image, and the irreverent Carter, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, absolutely knows it. A sketch comedienne and actress for years, Carter is well-versed in the art of the monologue-especially, if you look at her oeuvre, the absurdist-humor monologue. But even without her evocative story-telling skill, it's not hard to imagine the fairytale-like scene.

She physically looks like a glossy plate in a Brothers Grimm book. She is that alabaster-skinned, inky-tressed, limpid-eyed girl on page 567. The one plucking fungi from mossy creek banks and gently placing them in a basket. The one spilling tears over life's ineffable woes.

She lets the joke peter out, unwind, as she bends lips to the lid of her coffee cup. She explains she was collecting specimens for a biology class-not feeding a recreational drug habit or harvesting ingredients for a truffle risotto. She laughs a little more.

"I think [the Office of Undergraduate Scholars and Fellows] actually used the word 'bombed,' to describe it," she says. "In the room, I knew I was screwing it up. They asked me a question I just flat-out didn't know the answer to. And from there, I was just a fluttering, stuttering mess. I even acknowledged how bad I was doing to the panel."

For all her errors, Carter stayed afloat. In September, she was officially endorsed by the University to compete for the two awards, for a chance to study the intersection of science and ethics at either the University of Oxford or Cambridge in England. It is a tremendous honor-only 18 Duke students are in contention for either the Rhodes, Marshall or Mitchell post-graduate awards this year, and of those, only six are competing for both the Rhodes and Marshall. Culled from a graduating class of over 1,500 smart kids, Carter is in rarefied company.

And that's weird.

in the past, the unspoken Duke mantra was that scholarships beget scholarships. The University Scholars, the Robertson Scholars, the Benjamin N. Duke (BN) Scholars, the Trinity Scholars, the Reginald Howard Scholars and, in particular, the Angier B. Duke (AB) Scholars-these were the haut monde from which the Duke Rhodes and Marshall Scholarship winners came. It's printed right here-right here on a page in a 4-inch Office of Undergraduate Scholars and Fellows (OUSF) binder auspiciously marked "RHODES."

"If you've got an AB Duke, a Uni, a Reginald Howard, a BN Duke or one of the other major Duke scholarships, you've already got quite a leg up," writes Jacob Foster, Trinity '03 and Rhodes winner, to prospective Duke applicants leafing through that binder. Foster was an AB.

But last year, two of Duke's three Rhodes winners were not scholars (the third was an AB), and this year's applicant pool is slowly reflecting a more even playing field. OUSF-the clearinghouse and vetting machine for all Duke's Rhodes, Marshall and Mitchell Scholarship applicants-is trying to get more non-scholars interested in applying.

Part of that is reversing some serious, Only-ABs-Need-Apply conditioning.

"I thought it was really only an AB thing for a while, only a thing that the scholars did," Carter says of her feelings after one of her research mentors suggested that she apply. "I like to succeed, I like to do well in all that I do, but I've never had a grand plan of what I'll even be doing in the next year-it seemed like one of those things you always knew you were going to do."

Meanwhile, among ABs, post-graduate scholarships are a goal even before you're officially enrolled. Last spring, when students who were finalists for the AB scholarship came to campus for the scholar recruitment weekend, the AB recruitment team paraded around Billy Hwang, Pratt '06. Hwang was the sole scholar of last year's three Rhodes winners-and a model of AB success.

Further, as part of the AB program, scholars may enroll in a six-week, two-credit summer session at Oxford's New College. The scholarship pays for tuition, room, board and excursions and also provides an air-fare allowance. It's a chance for the ABs to broaden their academic horizons-to study Shakespeare's writing and British history in the place where it actually happened-but there's no denying that it's also exposure to the venue.

"Last year for recruitment, we had Billy Hwang around, and we're always hearing about Fulbright sessions and other things advertised to the scholar community," says John Hechter,* an AB and a 17-year-old sophomore. "I plan to apply. I mean, I might as well."

Simple prodding mechanisms, such as advertising post-grad scholarship information via the merit scholar e-mail listservs, encourage scholar applicants and interest at an early stage. This is necessary, Assistant OUSF Director Babs Wise says-your application for the Rhodes and Marshall should begin on Day One of college, when you start recruiting people to write you recommendations and start joining organizations and clubs all over again.

Meanwhile, at-large undergraduates, unless specifically targeted by long-time mentors, parents or older friends, often don't know when the process begins or what the credentials are.

"The tradition [with ABs] was that you at least thought about it-talked about it among yourselves," says Melissa Malouf, director of OUSF and a former director of the AB program. "Up until two years ago, winners were mostly AB Duke-but that's because they were applying."

Malouf and Wise say they've held open houses for all freshmen, scheduled talks with anyone interested and will continue to do anything they can to get the word out.

Whether or not their Rhodes hegemony is in question, AB scholars still are top-flight researchers, high-profile campus leaders and bar-none in the classroom. Of their ilk are the most gifted poets, artists, linguists, economists, physicists-hell, people-at Duke. Talented ABs who accumulate solid research often (but not exclusively) become Faculty Scholars, the highest honor conferred upon one undergraduate every year by the Duke faculty. Flip through that same helpful OUSF binder of past Rhodes winners' notes and applications, and you'll see not one printed winner without the words "is an Angier B. Duke scholar" written in his or her biography. (Last year's winners are not yet included.) Those words come above a three- to six-page list of feats, at which most 21-year-olds would merely laugh in disbelief.

Foster, who advised his scholar buddies of their privilege in the above passage, is one of those classic examples of AB-turned-Rhodes. He took graduate-level quantum physics as a junior, developed a passion for twister theory that matched only his disdain for string theory and honed a creative writing interest that afforded him lasting bonds with a literature professor. With a listed "passable" 3.89 GPA, Foster ran and acted in Hoof N' Horn theater productions, edited a campus publication and studied art history in Italy. Moreover, he had a support community of professors, mentors and AB friends that seemed to really champion his success as a Renaissance man.

"If I can tear myself away from the realm of Platonic beauty, I hope to complete my project to become the perfect anachronism by mastering fencing and ballroom dance (not to mention falconry)," Foster wrote in his Duke Rhodes-winner profile.

You can hear his smirk.

But as smart as they are, and as infrastructurally supported as they are, the ABs are not braggarts.

"The first rule of being an AB is not telling people that you're an AB," Hechter says. "It's like Fight Club."

This reticence to betray a special status almost escalates to paranoia for some scholars, AB or not, when the Rhodes or Marshall process rolls around. While the non-scholars contacted for this article were happy to talk about their application process-one even questioned the need for a pseudonym-the scholars contacted all respectfully declined to speak specifically about post-graduate awards, preferring not to disclose their reasons for applying.

Others took issue with the notion that scholars applying for post-graduate awards have any unifying characteristics other than being scholars. Discussing the scholarship community as a whole, they feel, gets into unflattering generalizations they'd prefer not to indulge.

What kind of generalizations? Well, that scholars don't have to earn a professor's love. That they can get the goods of undergraduate academic life-grant money, study abroad opportunities, research offers-without filling out a million forms or paying a cent of tuition. That they work harder than you, achieve more than you and are just plain better than you-and have too much damn modesty to tell you to your face.

Period.

If you unloaded all of that on a scholar, he'd probably deny being quite so privileged. But the support system that comes with admission to any scholar program is undeniably an asset.

Senior Brian Lees,* a University scholar and a candidate for the Marshall, describes how he can have a recommendation from mentors in his scholarship whenever he needs one. He talks about the Unis as a genial and erudite group that he enjoys spending time with. Knocking back a couple with these guys comes with intelligent conversation about Aristotle's "Politics" rather than CW's "America's Next Top Model," it seems.

"I know that if I want to have meaningful conversations about art, literature or politics, I can do that with my scholarship-I can't always do that with non-scholar friends," Lees says.

Biweekly seminars, in which University scholars showcase their research, are ways to bring their community together to shoot the breeze and bond. Other, less formal gatherings are common as the greater Uni community breaks down into groups, some scholars say. One sophomore described a recent social event he'd attended after being invited by a fellow University scholar. It was an Eastern European-themed birthday party thrown by graduate students in the history department, the homemade refreshments in keeping with the theme. Guests discussed the politics of Eastern Europe, branching out into other academic topics throughout the night over syrupy Croatian dessert wine.

"The greatest benefit is being able to be part of a community where you can have high level discussions on just about any possible academic subject you can imagine, with students ranging from freshmen to sixth-year graduate students," he says, adding that the exposure to graduate students-a feature unique to the University Scholars program-has allowed him to better understand what it takes to apply to graduate school.

"It makes it more real, and gives me a better understanding of the mechanical stuff one has to do," he says. "It's marvelous."

It's not as if Lees and his fellow Unis can't be a normal kids. Lees is likeable-a recognized student leader with a brilliant white smile and a lot of friends.

But he counts faculty among those friends-close friends. Going to office hours, he says, and cultivating mentorships are the way to succeed in college. And while Lees has done more than most-scholar or non-to find professorial friends and advisors, he will admit his scholarship gave him the initial push in the right direction.

"If I didn't take advantage of things there, I'd just be wasting the gifts of Bill and Melinda Gates," he says emphatically.

how, then, did the non-contenders-the drifters who are external to this well-supported coterie of academic blue-chips-become factors in the balance of power?

It's not like non-scholars aren't smart. It's not like they don't want to go to Oxford, Cambridge or even graduate school. It's not like they haven't read about the allure of cake and Pimm's on the grassy, sun-dappled commons or of tweedy and bookish tutors acting as sage guides to a chosen field of study.

But lusting after an Oxford degree and knowing you're a viable candidate for the Rhodes or Marshall are completely different. And without the carved-out community to elevate and root for its strongest members, it often takes a mentor or advisor to tell non-scholars when the Rhodes is even an option.

It was a mentor who encouraged-no, insisted-that Carter apply. Having already completed biology research with money from the Howard Hughes Summer Research Fellows program and the Department of Homeland Security, she had the academic credentials. Her well-roundedness as a member of intramural soccer teams, acting troupes and political activism groups ensured she could patch together a solid application.

It was also the mentor of Kristen Reight,* another non-scholar endorsed for both the Rhodes and the Marshall, who said she should consider applying.

Reight is another science person and has completed several of the most prestigious research fellowships available to undergraduates. The Asheville, N.C., native worked as a prestigious Goldwater Scholar and a Howard Hughes summer research fellow. She has conducted research projects "elucidating genetics of virulence in the human pathogenic fungus Cryptococcus neoformans" for nearly three years.

In a small storage room near her laboratory on Research Drive, Reight says she is particularly interested in looking at the patterns and shapes that microbes take when plated on slides and examined. "I love microscopy," she says. "It's that visual aspect. What you see can be really, really beautiful."

Reight herself is not hard on the eyes; she's petite, with cascading blond curls and a clear, bright face. She has dimples and a boyfriend-a member of the men's basketball team, actually. "I try to go to all the games," she says, smiling shyly.

Reight says that her mentors and advisors have been "tremendously supportive" during her pursuit of a degree in England, which she says will help her meet the top scholars in her field worldwide. But she does not come from a family of scientists, and explaining what she's doing over the phone can be hard. "It's actually good for me," she laughs. "You learn how not to speak in science jargon."

She adds that her much-younger brother came to visit her in her lab.

"I showed him around here," she says, scuffing down the wing. The hall smells like agar and growing bacteria, and the walls are a mottled shade of gray. She passes lots of placards, each dedicating a room to a certain kind of microbial research.

"I think he thought it was going to be like Dexter's lab," she laughs, referring to the Cartoon Network series she says her brother watches. "But I guess he thought it was pretty cool."

Being cool is a manner of speaking in a lab facility, where nerd-dom reigns and counting root hairs on growing Arabidopsis plants is considered engaging work. But keeping cool doesn't seem like it's hard for Reight to do, and as she glides past rooms full of people and slides and labcoats, she seems cheerful and in her element.

Whether she can translate that coolness to the Rhodes and Marshall process-still in the works-remains yet to be seen. She will have district- and state-level interviews and will attend cocktail parties and gatherings to informally prove her mettle.

OUSF hosts its own annual practice cocktail party, held the evening of Oct. 11 at Malouf's home.

"It's firstly to celebrate that they've made it this far and that they've finished the process," Malouf says. "And it's to learn the art of schmoozing and eating at the same time-how to talk and hold a glass." She laughs.

So here is the first and only time the scholar and the non-scholar contenders intersect as a group: over crustless finger sandwiches, balancing a cocktail and sustaining a stream of unbroken, superfluous banter.

The booze schmooze is nothing new for most seniors, least of all a handful of student leaders at a notoriously gregarious school.

In fact, if the "play hard" half of the University's hackneyed ethos holds, then the Rhodes and Marshall cocktail parties might be the only arena in which all Duke finalists are equally well-prepared.

Even if they're just a bunch of twister-theory-studying, falconry-learning, cancer-curing, Darfur-saving overachievers, that social sameness still deserves a toast.