Letter from Oxford
Understanding my place
There have been many books written about the experiences of Rhodes Scholars; one of them, by authors Thomas and Kathleen Schaeper, is titled Cowboys into Gentlemen. Miles Sweet '01 is beginning to understand the transformation. Sweet, a first-generation college student and chemistry major from Fairfield, Maine, became Wheaton's first Rhodes Scholar three years ago. Today he is nearing completion of a Ph.D. at Oxford University in England and is considering the world and its problems in extraordinary ways. In early fall, he spoke with Quarterly editor Jayne M. Iafrate about the ways this academic opportunity has changed his life.
Tell us about your first days at Oxford.
I can remember the bus ride from Heathrow very clearly. We were all together, and all quite tired from having spent the entirety of the flight getting to know each other. I never even opened the headphones or turned on the entertainment system, and the cabin crew had a terrible time trying to keep us all in our seats. As we were traveling along the motorway, I kept looking ahead for a view of the famous dreaming spires. I recall being quite surprised by how remote the city is; it's in the heart of the Thames Valley--classic English countryside.
When I began to see signs for Oxford, it hit me--this was for real. I wasn't alone, either. For many of us, it had taken that long--nearly a year after being elected--for gravity to fetch us back down to Earth. We were almost there, and the selection committees still hadn't realized what they'd done and taken it all back! This was it--time for us to take our place.
Scholars from the previously matriculated classes met us at the bus and helped us settle into our respective colleges. Of course, there were typical administrative issues to deal with, such as opening a bank account and collecting student ID's, but there were also quirky Oxonian concerns to take on board. What academic gown do I need for dinner, and when do I wear the white bowtie? One event particularly sticks out in my mind. During my first formal dinner in Hall at Balliol, I asked the waiter for a napkin; his response was, "Sir, it's called a serviette, and you're not expected to need one." I still carry one in my pocket, just in case.
The first week is a blur, really. We had fun being tourists, exploring the city and visiting all the colleges, admiring the architecture, and soaking in the history--learning about our place.
In what ways is the reality of the experience different from your expectations?
I was initially taken aback by the antiquated state of the laboratories. The benches we work on are listed on the national historic registry, which is quaint, but not very practical in the 21st century. It took me a while to determine that the situation is due in part to the particular funding structures here, whose related pressures require a different attitude toward the allocation of resources. Oxford has some of the best open-access analytical facilities in the world, but I remain very anxious about the level of operational safety that is considered acceptable. We're scheduled to move to a brand-new, state-of-the-art building in January, and I'm looking forward to that.
I have to admit that I overestimated how prepared I was to bridge the gulf between the U.S. and U.K. educational systems. After two years, I am still struggling to catch up, but I do intend to finish on time. For the most part, my colleagues here have been supportive, and I have been pleasantly surprised to find that the academic atmosphere, at least at the graduate level, is not charged with an overt and stifling competitiveness. As I did at Wheaton, I continually strive to identify and to address my weaknesses, to play to my strengths, and to help those around me to do the same; it's still working.
Tell me about the people you've met.
My Rhodes class arrived in Oxford shortly after September 11, 2001. For the most part, I think many of us were still a bit numb, but we had to adjust quickly to our new ex-pat existence. Oxford is a very cosmopolitan university; I've heard our MCR (Middle Common Room, or graduate community) described as a veritable mini-UN. Certainly, there is no shortage of debate over American foreign policy, or criticism of American arrogance--perceived and genuine--and that is just among the other Rhodes Scholars. The conversations and arguments are a brilliant, if not sometimes exhausting, trial. Everyday, I am challenged to look at the world differently, to explore and connect ideas, and to communicate my opinions persuasively. It has been a valuable exercise in attentiveness and understanding, learning about how the rest of the world views America, and how that paradigm compares and contrasts with their views about Americans.
Before coming to Oxford, I heard from quite a few older Rhodes Scholars that their biggest regret was not having gotten to know some of the British people in their programs. I have been very fortunate to join a large lab group, which has made it easier for me to build meaningful relationships with my English contemporaries. I know it probably seems like an obvious consequence of studying in England, but I have been surprised to find that my experience is a rather unique case.
You left Wheaton with a plan to study the connection between public policy and the pharmaceutical industry. How has your Oxford study informed that plan?
That initial idea was derived from a more general interest in issues surrounding contemporary intellectual property rights. More than ever, I am interested in the intersection of science and technology with public policy. In my Rhodes application, I quoted author James N. Rosenau, who wrote, "The dynamics of globalization unleashed by technology are the dominant catalyst in world affairs." I maintain that there is a fundamental lag between the current rate of technological change and the rate of adjustment to these changes among decisionmakers. There are examples of this in the news almost every day. I contend that the problem stems from a lack of scientific awareness among policymakers around the world, which is due in part to the scientific community's inability or unwillingness to communicate adequately.
For as long as I can remember, I have been striving to build on the personal purpose and collaborative planning that have characterized my academic career. I am constantly asking myself, "How can I continue to meet that instinctive commitment of civic responsibility that drove me toward a Rhodes Scholarship in the first place?" Following a visit to South Africa early this year, my thoughts have been captivated by how to initiate and improve upon capacitybuilding projects in developing areas. "Hope, agency, and technology," is the unwritten mantra of the Rhodes community's recent foundation work in the region.
There are so many areas to take into account, and one of my concerns is how best to nurture a generation of leaders--informed by a science and technology consciousness that is enriched through a genuine liberal arts methodology--who will count among the most able to capitalize on the current explosion in scientific discoveries that drives the global economy and carries the potential of untold benefit for humanity. How should we design education and social frameworks to prepare our students and our citizens for this future, and what transformations are necessary to promote the critical scientific literacy and technological competency required in an era when dilemmas arising from such advances will increasingly focus cultures to reexamine the very foundations of their ethical structures? Thinking about my place, thinking about your place, thinking about their place--these are just a few of the questions that have stimulated my imagination of late.
As a Rhodes Scholar, you've had exposure to people who shape global policy. What such interaction has touched you most?
The whole experience has been formative, and so much happens at once. The events in South Africa were emotional and inspirational, as I have only hinted at earlier in our conversation. The award of a Rhodes Scholarship has generated many unique opportunities for me to meet all manner of world leaders and great achievers, but none quite as spectacular as those at the 2003 International Achievement Summit in Washington, D.C.
What distinguished this symposium from any other that I have been fortunate to attend was the level of interaction between the accomplished panelists and presenters and the student delegates. It was an exceptional indulgence for me to be able to discuss over lunch the importance of science and technology in public policy with Drs. Francis Collins and Rita Colwell. It was stimulating to engage the Senate leadership in a frank debate about American foreign and domestic policies. It was inspiring to bear witness to the courage of Colombian President Alvaro Uribe and Archbishop Desmond Tutu.
One especially poignant moment was when I met Senator George Mitchell. I am originally from Fairfield, Maine, and grew up only minutes from the former senator's boyhood home in neighboring Waterville. When my brother and I were young, while my father worked at one of three full-time jobs, my mother cleaned houses part time, including that of Senator Mitchell's sister. When he became Senate Majority Leader in the late 1980s, and I realized why the face in those pictures we had been dusting at his sister's house was so familiar, my mother told me about how young George used to accompany his father when he worked nights as a custodian at nearby Colby College. That story had a remarkable impact on me at the time because I came to understand that Senator Mitchell and I are literally from the "same side of the tracks." George Mitchell has always been a role model for me, and it was a distinct honor to finally meet him.
That particular anecdote best demonstrates how powerful and influential those few days in D.C. were toward further shaping my own confidence and motivating my aspirations. My parents have worked to ensure that my brother and I could pursue the educational opportunities that they never had, and like Senator Mitchell and Senator Tom Daschle, I was the first in my family to attend college. They strive for us to recognize that with diligence and determination, underscored by a firm sense of civic responsibility that acknowledges our innate leadership qualities, we can develop the same potential for achievement as Senators Mitchell and Daschle.
How does all this change you?
I have found that the short, personal relationships we establish with those luminaries are designed to bolster in us a greater sense of self-awareness and self-assurance. I am no longer intimidated to lunch with a Nobel Prizewinning physicist or to ask a pointed question of a former Israeli prime minister. Their challenge for us to maintain that individual drive toward a collaborative dream, and their willingness to serve as mentors in our collective development, fosters a creative energy and shared commitment. Realizing that anything is possible has affected me most. The exposure is meant to be provocative, and it is effective; the network is there to facilitate, and it is efficient. After nearly three years, I am reaching a point where it is increasingly difficult to divorce particular events from the cumulative experience. These interactions help me to shape it, but it is up to me to define it. I still do not know what I want it to be, or how I want it to be, but to be honest, I don't think I want to know quite yet. I believe that too many of us earn this place by spending so much time looking ahead that we do not really spend enough time looking around, or even inward.
How do you balance all the work? What do you do for fun?
Happily, I have brought much more balance to my life. I spend most of my time outside of lab socializing with my friends. I would like to be able to travel more, and I have enjoyed exploring England and Wales. I love the Lake District, and mountain climbing is my new favorite hobby.
What's next?
I suppose it is time to start thinking seriously about those student loans, so I'm looking for a job. Most likely, I'll go back to the U.S. I'm keeping an open mind, and it still seems quite far off at this point. I'm still at the stage where it's easier to tick off what I don't want to do, but I know I want to travel a bit more.
Anything else?
I want to make a point to encourage students to consider spending some time abroad--not just vacationing, but really engaging. They should work, study, do whatever fascinates their curiosity; just get out there and explore! It is more important than ever before for Americans to expand our international mindfulness. I have been very fortunate in the past few years to meet many of our most influential decisionmakers, and too many of them are chiefly concerned with what the rest of the world can learn from America. I have to tell you, there is a lot that America can learn from the rest of the world.
