But it'll be a snowy day in Phoenix, Ariz., before he would concur that he's the envy of many of his peers. Not merely an outstanding-or perhaps the model-student-athlete, Lewkowitz comes across as remarkably well-adjusted and unaffected. Engaging and garrulous in a sincere way, he has the kind of easy-going demeanor that would sit well in an Old West saloon; there must be something in that desert air that breeds humility.
Rising from the sands
Phoenix has always been a city close to the hearts of the Lewkowitz family. Adam's paternal grandfather was raised in Phoenix at a time when the city was still relatively young, when it was still a town and covered no more than 15 square miles. Today, all but one aunt and uncle of Lewkowitz's immediate family reside in the nation's seventh largest city, and both sets of grandparents live within walking distance of his home. His mother, though, was born and lived for a time in Argentina before the family moved back to the U.S., and Lewkowitz joked, "I didn't even know she spoke Spanish until I was 15. You assume but you don't really talk about it … I could have been bilingual!"
Arizona, of course, has never been exactly a hotbed of prospective Amherst students. Lewkowitz first became aware of the College, serendipitously, in his junior year at Phoenix Country Day School, when his English teacher's husband recommended Amherst as a school he ought to look into. "She kept telling me to look at Amherst, and because my whole family is from Phoenix, I wanted to get away," he recalled. "I actually didn't like [the tour at the College] at all until, all of a sudden, we were in the old [Geology] building, and a professor came in and derailed our tour to bring us around. [I thought] if that was how the professors are like here, this was the place for me."
Making waves
It's scarcely detectable now, but Lewkowitz found himself a little bit of a misfit in his first year at the College. On the men's swimming team, he said, he was never very popular at first. "I couldn't do all the fun things the team did. I couldn't drink … and I would go [to the parties] and they would want me to drink water and I wasn't going to drink glasses of water," Lewkowitz explained. "I didn't fall into the fold very easily, and so some the juniors didn't like that very much." The intransigent harshness of the winters did nothing to help his transition to New England or for others' perception of his dress sense. "I couldn't take the cold weather," he said, with a touch of self-deprecation. "I would walk around like a yeti because I didn't know what was going on, and you didn't have to wear a ski jacket when it was 60 degrees."
By the time he became a tri-captain on the swimming team, however, Lewkowitz had managed to overcome those initial trials, including a bout of inactive tuberculosis while still a first-year. To this day, he swears that his parents paid the doctor to forbid him from drinking. Although he asserted that he never expected to make tri-captain, the position was in reality a responsibility that 13 years of competitive swimming had prepared him more than amply for. "He became not only my captain but a close friend and confidant," said Josiah Bethards '09. "Essentially, he was the base without which my formative impression of Amherst would have been without doubt less substantial."
That distinctive resilience and sense of brotherhood were forged in his high school pool. "The high school program I swam at was a club team, but it was much harder and so much more intense. The coach was amazing but he really blew you hard; he made me cry all the time," Lewkowitz said. "Here [Head Coach Nick Nichols] is not like that at all; he did such a good job of making sure that as a swimmer, you're not just a swimmer, you're first and foremost a student."
Perhaps Nichols recognized early on that he had a special talent in his charge, the kind he acknowledged that the team is "fortunate to find once every decade or so." "It was a great day when he finally decided Amherst was at the top of his list and applied early decision," Nichols said. "Adam has been a great leader throughout his four years with the team and is the type of person who easily bridges the gender gap as well as the gap between academics and athletics."
In return, Lewkowitz cited Nichols' insistence on academics as a major influence on his achievements with the swimming team-the liberty to prioritize his scholarly and personal interests allowed Lewkowitz the sort of learning space he needed. "I don't think I would have swum for more than a year if Nick had [been like my high school coach] because I was so sick of being owned and defined by a sport," he clarified. "He let me go abroad [even though I was one of only a few distance swimmers]. I'm happy I've gone to Amherst; it's been the perfect place for me. I'm not going to the Olympics. So I'm happy that I've chosen a place that's a much better fit all round." While perhaps no Olympian, Lewkowitz was a colossus in his own backyard. On the roll of Amherst all-time swimming greats, his name appears prominently: second for the 1650-meter freestyle, third for the 1000 free.
Accidental sociologist
The Phi Beta Kappa honor roll also featured Lewkowitz this year. The accolade largely speaks for itself, but the sociology and Spanish double major's tentative first steps academically at the College were, to say the least, atypical. In refreshingly frank fashion, Lewkowitz elaborated, "I came in wanting to do history. I had never heard of sociology ever and I shopped Professor [of Sociology Ronald] Lembo's class because I wanted to know what the word meant, and I loved it." He added, "What happened was that I wanted to take random classes that interested me and then when it was time for me to declare … I declared sociology because I really liked the classes I had taken."
Spanish fell more or less into place. "I added Spanish [as a major] because I was studying abroad in Chile, and I really only had to take three or four classes here to major. And I really liked them very much," he said. He will study in Mexico next year on a Fulbright Scholarship, a decision he felt was significantly inspired by Professor of Sociology and American Studies Carleen Basler's class, Latino Identity in the United States.
Basler later became Lewkowitz's thesis advisor, and will be co-authoring (with him) a book based on ideas from his thesis. She praised his character and body of work succinctly and unstintingly: "Adam is extremely talented in so many ways. He has been a bright spot in all the classes we shared. His thesis is both inspirational and intriguing to me as a scholar."
In your face, Huntington
Theses sometimes take on a spectre of seemingly infinite angles that loom over the writer; for Lewkowitz the challenge was racked up a notch by his choice and scope of thesis. "I interviewed 30 Mexican immigrants and Mexican-Americans, and what we're trying to figure out is how Mexicans face the assimilation process," he explained. "[The process] is passive in that if you're looked at in a certain way and if you're not looked as an American you'll never be American. It's active in that you can strive to be as American as possible. It's about how people are responding to discrimination or socioeconomic stagnancy and the identities formed from their assimilation."
Lewkowitz, by working intensively with the Mexican community in Phoenix, delineated the distinction within its members between what is termed the cholo and the pocho. The two groups illustrated vital differences in the process of assimilation-the underclass cholo, "big pants, religious tattoos, you've seen them on TV," represent a sort of alienation from mainstream society; the pocho are the flip-side, who by wholeheartedly pursuing Americanization and "refusing to teach their kids Spanish," can choose to live within or outside the community.
"The [general] point is that they have assimilated into American society, so they participate socially, economically, politically. They've acculturated into American culture so that they're not recognized as Mexican when they go back to their family or friends in Mexico-they're just American," said Lewkowitz. "But they've retained Mexican identity because they need the support of the community. It's a defense mechanism against hostile interaction that they face everyday. They are giving their children the ability on purpose to manoeuvre between both worlds. Their goal is to give them the option."
He termed the condition "middle-Mexican" identity. "It's a term that I came up with. That's what the book [co-authored with Basler] will be about-the formations of a middle-Mexican identity." The interest in his thesis concentration is such that he has been invited to present his work at institutions both nearby, at Hampshire College, and far-flung, in Puerto Rico. The Fulbright Program also recently recognized Lewkowitz's contributions to an expanding field by naming him one of its scholars for 2006-a spot for research and study awaits him at El Colegio de la Frontera Norte in Tijuana, Mexico. "That's why I got the Fulbright, because [the subject matter's] so important and no one's ever done [work like this] before," he said, before admitting that the award left him feeling a little guilty. "It's really frustrating for me though, because I'm going to the [Mt. Sinai medical program] and I feel like someone else could be using the opportunity in a more constructive way."
All smiles
It is precisely Lewkowitz's consideration for the people around him that many of his friends will remember him by. "Adam and I both suffer from demanding schedules, but he makes sure that I never forget that the best part about Amherst is the amazing people," friend and fellow senior Kate Roin affirmed. "Adam has great perspective on what we are trying to achieve and how we are trying to achieve it. And he can always do it with a smile on his face." His sister, Jennifer Lewkowitz '08, said simply, "Having him here has made a great two years of college into fantabulous ones. I will miss going to early-bird dinners with him, watching Disney movies with him, swimming with him, laughing with him ... calling him at 4 a.m. when I can't sleep, running to his room in a snowstorm just so he can make me laugh, his endless encouragement. It's making me sad just to say all the things I will miss."
When he graduates from medical school, Lewkowitz envisions running two practices, "one for people with government insurance and one for people with private insurance." As he explained his plans, it was difficult not to be impressed by his far-sighted aspirations. "Then, the private insurance will only pay as much as the government insurance does," he said. "You need the money to keep the practices open after all. A friend of my dad's does the same thing, and I think it's really admirable, because some [doctors] are refusing to take patients with government insurance because they'll go bankrupt … and I don't want to say something like you need to be wealthy to be treated."
Adam Lewkowitz may appear to have everything anyone could wish for, but what he wants, most of all, is for his fellow man to have the same. Roin encapsulated the sentiment of most who knew Lewkowitz when she said, "One of the hardest parts about leaving Amherst is leaving friends like Adam, for it is people like Adam that make Amherst the incredible school we have all come to know over the last four years. And yet, I am not at all worried that Adam and I will lose touch, because he is just that type of guy."