January, however, was just months past a great personal disappointment: not being selected to interview for a Marshall Scholarship. I had given over my life to the time-consuming commitment of applying for the Marshall. My senior thesis, internship and graduate school applications, and other responsibilities had all been pushed aside in my attempt to present a perfect application to a group of strangers. And all of my work, it seemed, had come to nothing. The only acknowledgement of my efforts came in a form rejection letter. Meanwhile, an overwhelming stack of obligations demanded immediate attention. Worse, in the back of my mind were disturbing questions: Were my dreams still valid? Was I competent to pursue them? 

My history professor is a wonderful teacher and a great believer in the potential of his students. However, he can be somewhat intimidating at times, and that evening in January illustrated this ability. “I would like,” he said, “for everyone to tell us about the defining moment of your life.” We were all a bit taken aback, but eventually stories emerged from the corners of the room–stories of life-changing realizations, marriages and births, and travels around the world. Dinner ended before I answered, which was a blessing, because I was still bewildered by the question. It was not until several months later, long after the memories of the fellowship application process faded, that I had the defining moment of my life. 

Much of my undergraduate career was spent pursuing a wide variety of interests. My major was international studies, but I also enrolled in literature, religion, and film courses. A study semester in Kenya convinced me that Africa was my main interest. Although I knew that I would continue to study global affairs, I lacked a clear sense of direction. Applying for the Marshall forced me to put into concrete terms what my reasons were for pursuing those interests. I finally proposed to study democratization in Africa at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London, arguing that such preparation would be useful in my pursuit of a career in diplomacy. My background, however, was far from being teleological to those ends. So I had to figure out how my diverse interests fit together. Why, for example, had I felt compelled to write my honors thesis on the Holocaust, rather than on African politics? After hours of discussion with my advisors and much soul-searching, the reason became clear: the common themes of extreme injustice and unnecessary human suffering. I also had to determine why I believed that serving as a diplomat was the most effective use of my gifts and abilities. Knowing that alleviating suffering was of primary importance to me and feeling that I could best do so in public service were reflected in my bid for a Marshall scholarship, but many of my other interests were not. I did not really mention my love for poetry, music, and art in my application. 

One of the most useful aspects of applying for the Marshall is having a ready-made set of graduate school application materials, complete with glowing letters of recommendation and well-developed personal statements. The springtime arrival of letters of acceptance was vindicating. But the best thing that came from the experience had nothing to do with future plans; it was the relationship that developed with my fellowship advisor, who encouraged me to think through my dreams and to pursue them. After the process ended, she told me that the vice-consul in Houston said my application was very strong, but that the committee thought there was a disparity between what I said I wanted to do with my life and the way I expressed myself in the personal statement. My advisor and I discussed this assessment more than a few times. We experienced what might best be called an uncommon relationship between a teacher and a student–she became one of my best friends. We are kindred souls, and I would not trade the hours of talking, not simply about my applications, but about poetry, the perfect cup of tea, the nature of the university experience, and dozens of other topics for anything, two years in Britain included. 

I graduated from college in May and turned my mind toward a summer internship in Central Africa. It was not until late August, however, that I read the larger message that application for the Marshall fellowship had left with me. On my way home, I backpacked through Italy and, exhausted, I settled in Naples for a week of wandering through ruins and sitting underneath the Mediterranean sun. I treasure that time in Naples, because wandering the city’s maze-like streets gave me time to think through the events of the previous year. My summer of diplomatic training had been a good experience; a career in the Foreign Service would clearly use my logical abilities and growing knowledge of Africa. But I doubted then and now whether being a diplomat is the best way for me to work to ease human suffering–an obligation I feel in the depths of my soul. Nor does the work of diplomacy leave much room for poetry–for the world and the beauty it contains–and its statement. One day, I visited the ruins of Herculaneum and, at a point from which I could see the ancient buildings beneath the shadow of Vesuvius, I sat for hours, pondering the transience of life, the fragility of humankind, and my own confusion. Somehow, the eternal conflict among the three faces of myself–logic, empathy, and poetry–ceased for a moment, and it became clear to me that I must, and will, find a vocation that combines these callings. 

A January later, I sit at my desk, halfway through my first year of graduate school in African Studies. I can sense how far I’ve traveled since departing a year ago from that party in January’s cold, clear air, under the canopy of a thousand stars stretched out on the great dome that is the Texas sky. Those stars swirl in my memory with the skies over Africa’s savannas and my summer nights on the Bay of Naples, looking at the skies whose lights guided the ancients. Sitting here, a most interesting thought has occurred to me, this time in the midst of a bitter Connecticut winter: had I won the Marshall, I would not have gone to Italy.
--Laura Seay, Baylor University 

Named in honor of Senator Mitchell’s contribution to the Northern Ireland peace process, the scholarships are awarded to individuals between the ages of 18 and 30 who have demonstrated intellectual distinction, leadership potential, and commitment to community service.

The newly selected Mitchell Scholars include (listed with their U.S. universities and future assignments in Ireland and Northern Ireland): Peter Frosch, Winona, MN (Northwestern/Dublin City University); Dawn Hewett, Seattle, WA (University of Washington/Trinity College Dublin); Bryanna Hocking, Eugene, Oregon (Georgetown/University of Limerick); Matthew Huenerfauth, Springfield, PA (University of Delaware/University College Dublin); Ehrin Johnson, Camden, ME (Stanford and Harvard Medical School/University of Ulster); Jennifer Lambert, Imro, SC (Furman/University College Dublin); Kathleen Long, Paterson, NJ (Georgetown/University College Cork); Michelle Miles , Bozeman, MT (Montana State/Trinity College Dublin); Kathleen Romig, Royal Oak, MI (Michigan State/University College Cork); Julia Rosenbloom, Washington, DC (Harvard College/Queen’s University); Ben Trachtenberg, Washington, DC (Yale/University of Limerick); and Elisabeth Yu, Indian Head Park, IL (Indiana University/Queen's University). Individual biographic profiles and photographs of the newly announced Mitchell Scholars are available at <http://www.mitchellscholar.org>.

In 1998, Irish Prime Minister Bertie Ahern announced that the Irish Government would provide the first $3 million endowment toward the establishment of the Mitchell Scholarships.  Also contributing to the Scholarships are an anonymous donor, the Northern Ireland Executive, Bombardier Aerospace, Cross Atlantic Capital Partners, The Crucible Corporation, and Mutual of America. Universities in Ireland and Northern Ireland waive tuition and provide housing to the Scholars. A Mitchell Scholar also receives a living expenses stipend as well as a travel stipend donated by Usit Now, Ireland's premier student travel service.

The Scholars were selected from finalists interviewed by a selection committee including Elliot Gerson, American Secretary of the Rhodes Scholarship Committee; Sean O’Huiginn, Irish Ambassador to the United States; Alice Ilchman, Chair of the Rockefeller Foundation; George O’Brien, Professor of English at Georgetown University; Sharon Hrynkow, Deputy Director of the Fogarty International Center at the National Institutes of Health; Kevin O'Neill, Associate Professor of History at Boston College; and Allen Sessoms, Senior Fellow at the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard.

--Dell Pendergrast, Director, George J. Mitchell Scholarships
 

Looking Ahead
Here in the Northwest, in spite of the March drought, the daffodils and crocuses are blooming, and even the azaleas are budding into flower. Already it is spring, and, as a scholarships advisor’s thoughts are wont to do, mine have turned to recruiting candidates for the next round of scholarship nominations.

Not every university or college holds nominations in the spring for Rhodes, Marshall and Truman scholarships, or pre-identifies likely candidates for fall nominations; as recent discussions on the list-serve indicate, there are benefits and disadvantages to both systems. Here at Willamette I recently held several general information sessions on scholarships and am currently meeting with potential applicants to discuss the nomination process.

Each year I ponder how best to walk the fine line between encouraging students to apply and accurately estimating their chances of success. It is, on the one hand, far too easy for students to review the Truman or Rhodes criteria and browse through Marshall Scholar profiles, only to conclude they are not scholarship “material.” Many of my most promising and ultimately successful candidates have displayed a distressing and endearing modesty, taking for granted their exceptional intellect, superior research, and outstanding community involvement. On the other hand, I shall ever remember the zealous administrator who wrote such an enthusiastically worded letter to potential scholarship applicants—what I now refer to as the “you may already have won” letter—that students (and their parents) were telephoning the provost’s office for weeks afterwards, claiming that they had been “awarded” a Rhodes Scholarship.

This year, instead of running down the list of criteria for each major scholarship—a boring exercise for me, an intimidating experience for students—I decided instead to talk about attitudes, both positive and negative, that affect and afflict the application process. I share my thoughts with the NAFA folk, primarily for those who are new to the advising arena.

Major fellowships, I told them, are not about funding for graduate school. These are opportunities. If you become a Scholar, your opportunities are tangible, but even if not selected, you have the chance to (we can all recite the mantra) explore your goals and reflect on your life’s purpose, improve your writing and interviewing skills, and at the very least, get a head start on your graduate school applications.

Now (I continued) let’s talk attitudes. First, the negative attitudes you must banish:

1) I can’t possibly win.
True, certain universities seem to dominate these competitions. Remember the year Harvard University students garnered 6 of the 40 Marshall Scholarships? But every year a student who attends a university where no one has ever won a major fellowship (at least, not in a very long time) wins. 

2) I’m not Rhodes/Marshall/Truman material.
You may not be, but until you thoroughly investigate the criteria and talk to those who know—advisors, faculty—you’ll never know for sure.

3) I must and will win a Rhodes/Marshall/Truman.
Instead of writing openly and honestly about your opinions and goals, you over-strategize, attempting to guess what a hypothetical committee might want to know. As a result, your application will be insincere and unconvincing.

Second, positive attitudes to cultivate:

1) Even if I don’t win, I’ll learn so much about myself in the process that it’s worth my time, energy, and hard work.

2) I might as well. What do I have to lose? Just a little free time. 

3) Just getting to the interview would be an accomplishment. The other finalists are equally, if not more talented and deserving.

And finally, some words of advice to potential nominees: applying for competitive scholarships will yield numerous benefits, of which the most rewarding is personal growth. Focus on both the process and the goal. Winning a Rhodes or a Marshall (or a Truman, etc.) is not your reward for a job well done; it is a sometimes dubious privilege, somewhat arbitrarily bestowed, where your selection depends primarily on your performance in a 25-minute interview, which can provide you with the incredible, incomparable experience of study at a British University, and will open many doors, but which in the end does not guarantee you long life, success, or happiness. Hundreds apply each year and do not win; most, if not all, go on to accomplish their goals and live productive, happy lives. Don’t stake your identity as a success or failure on winning.

And then I tell them to get to work!

--Jane Curlin, Willamette University