Senator's "macaca" remark hurt, U.S.-born student says

WASHINGTON — S.R. Sidarth had built an impressive record of achievements for such a young man: straight-A student at one of northern Virginia's finest high schools, a tournament chess player, a quiz-team captain, a sportswriter at his college newspaper, a Capitol Hill intern and an active member of the Hindu temple his parents helped establish in Maryland.

For all his achievements, the moment that thrust him into the national spotlight this month came when Sen. George Allen, R-Va., called him "macaca." The remark stung the man of Indian descent. What hurt more, Sidarth said, was when Allen gave him a sarcastic welcome to his own country, his birthplace even. It was too ironic, he thought.

"I was born and raised in Fairfax County, and he's from California," Sidarth said at the campaign headquarters of Allen's opponent, Democrat James Webb.

The full name of the 20-year-old now known to the country as "macaca" is Shekar Ramanuja Sidarth. Following Indian custom, he goes by his surname. To some friends, he simply is "Sid."

He returned this week to the University of Virginia, where he is a senior majoring in American government and computer engineering.

Before college, Sidarth lived a somewhat typical, if exceptional, Fairfax County life. He attended the elite Thomas Jefferson High School, where he had a 4.1 grade-point average and scored 1550 on his SAT. He was a member of the chess club and the Spanish Honor Society and participated in the quiz show "It's Academic." At 6 foot 4, he also played defensive end, tight end, punter and kicker for the school's football team.

Sidarth was ambivalent about his sudden celebrity. "I was just doing my job, and I got sort of pulled into this," he said.

Sidarth said the Allen incident hasn't turned him off to politics, though he's ruled out becoming a politician. He said it's more likely that he'll become an environmental lawyer.

Ali Batouli, a senior biology major at Stanford University who befriended Sidarth in a 10th-grade calculus class, said Sidarth could solve complicated math problems in his head faster than anyone else. As a high-school senior, Sidarth also seemed to know more than his Advanced Placement classmates about Virginia and U.S. government history, Batouli said.

"He basically knows a lot about a lot," Batouli, 20, said by telephone this week.

Sidarth also was interested in public service before any of his peers, Batouli said. "On the weekends or something, I'd call him, and he'd be volunteering somewhere," Batouli said.

That volunteering started the clock on his 15 minutes of fame.

On Aug. 7, Sidarth was given a digital camcorder, a copy of Webb's Republican opponent's schedule and orders to record Allen during his "Listening Tour" of Virginia. It is a routine campaign practice known as tracking, and both sides were doing it.

At campaign stops, Sidarth said he and Allen's aides made small talk about the long trek, whether they had slept well and the name of the staffer from Allen's campaign who was doing what he was doing: keeping an eye on the opponent.

At one stop, the senator had walked up and shaken Sidarth's hand. Allen asked him his name and what company he was from, evidently thinking Sidarth was a supporter, Sidarth said.

"I said, 'I'm following you around,' " Sidarth said. "And he understood that."

On Aug. 11, Sidarth followed Allen's bus into Breaks, Va., near the Kentucky border, for a GOP meet-and-greet. It was there that Allen segued into the riff directed at Sidarth.

"This fellow here, over here with the yellow shirt, Macaca, or whatever his name is, he's with my opponent," Allen said.

"Macaca" is the scientific name of a genus of monkeys, and it is used as a slur in some cultures. Allen called Sidarth this week to apologize.

Sidarth said he knew immediately that "macaca" was a put-down. He felt its sting.

"I had an idea of what he was getting at — that he was injecting some sort of derogatory comment toward me that had a racial bent to it. I knew that it meant 'monkey' and it was used toward immigrants," Sidarth said. "I realized that I had been insulted."

But he kept filming. Allen kept going.

"He's following us around everywhere. And it's just great," Allen said. "We're going to places all over Virginia, and he's having it on film, and it's great to have you here, and you show it to your opponent because he's never been there and probably will never come, so it's good for him to see what it's like out here in the real world."

There were big whoops from the crowd, and laughter.

"So welcome, let's give a welcome to Macaca here! Welcome to America, and the real world of Virginia!"

Back at school in Charlottesville, Sidarth has taken his new, unwanted fame with him.

Larry Sabato, an oft-quoted political commentator who teaches a small seminar on campaigns and elections, said he asked students to write an essay as part of the admission process.

Eighty people applied for the course, including Sidarth. His essay was three words, but it was enough to clinch one of the 20 coveted spots in the class.

"I am Macaca," he wrote.

Washington Post reporter Michael Shear and staff researcher Rena Kirsch contributed to this report.