Flying Dutchman

If Jacob Sirotkin, Mr. S or Syrup Snob ring a bell, you're likely familiar with this accomplished and amiable junior from Vermont. And no, he's never indulged in any maple syrup drinking contest, though he will tell you that it's hard to find a good opponent in Hempstead.

Sirotkin majors in political science and philosophy. He has a 3.56 GPA in addition to the fairly prestigious Presidential Scholarship. Outside of academics, he is a member of the Political Science Honors Society, Phi Alpha Delta (a pre-law fraternity) and club basketball. He is also a Resident Assistant.

During High School, he had a stint as a substitute teacher in what he refered to as "up in the boonies," otherwise known as Williamstown, Vt. There, he became known as Mr. S (an eerie coincidence with Jack Black's goofy AC/DC powered substitute from School of Rock). Sirotkin denies any conspiracy but does attest to the fact that the kids love him. "I was a big hit," said Sirotkin. "They were always asking for Mr. S. It was easy for me; I just always loved working with kids."

Sirotkin was also heavily influenced by an internship opportunity he experienced last summer. Working in Vt. Senator Leahy's office during Senate recess, he was privy to major political happenings concerning senate politics. "I got to work very closely with him," said Sirotkin. "I answered calls from constituents, so if anyone had a problem, I was the first person they got on the phone." Sirotkin loved it.

Before he left, he was included on a Congressional Record Statement for a speech he wrote for the senator. Though it wasn't given, the record statement immortalized Sirotkin by putting him and his work in the Library of Congress. Few University students are preserved for eternity-especially by noble gases in a sweet vault.

Sirotkin's affinity with the Senator gave him an opportunity to study a recent health concern: EMR emissions from cell phones and other devices. After a constituent broached the topic to Leahy, Sirotkin was instructed by Leahy to "figure out what it is and get back to me with a full memo." He wrote a comprehensive five page brief on the immediacy of the problem and its potential health risks.

"Imagine trying to have a conversation with someone but with people screaming in the background. That's how your cells feel when they are exposed to electromagnetic radiation," he said. Sirotkin concedes that he is the offspring of hippy parents who were into the power-line protest craze of earlier days, but his report included plenty of substantiating evidence regarding the health risks.

His penchant for politics is what he thinks will guide his career after his undergrad work. "I am going to take the LSAT," he said, which, according to him, necessitates "slamming my head against books for hours." Luckily for his grey matter, he's taking the test in June, after which he intends to go to law school with hopes to "one day run for senate, maybe even president."

In an undeniable political guru moment, Sirotkin recalls watching the 2004 DNC speech made by Obama and thinking "maybe this guy could be President." He believes that perseverance can carry him to political success.

"No one thought [Leahy] had a chance of winning his first senate run. [Leahy and his wife] got in their funky little Mercury and drove door to door." Leahy taught Sirotkin a kind of political pragmatism, maintaining "keep it about the people, not politics," said Sirotkin.

The University wasn't even on Sirotkin's list when him and his mother set out on the grand college tour his senior year of high school, flying from Vermont to schools as far away as Colorado. When he stopped here, almost haphazardly, he said, "it just clicked."

"As far as Hofstra goes, it couldn't be better. I met a girl I'm in love with, I enjoy being an RA and participating in club basketball," remarked Sirotkin, clearly content with the ochreous sun setting in front of him in the Student Center and graduation merely a year away.