Luiza Diniz Vilanova (CC ‘24) becomes the first Brazilian citizen in history to be selected as a Rhodes Scholar. But with her, it is so much more than titles and academics.

What you first notice about Luiza is her smile. The gap between her teeth displays proudly as her grin grows wider and reaches her big, dark brown eyes. The second thing that lures you in is her voice—melodic, energetic, alive. You notice her distinctive Brazilian accent, stressing her ts in words like future and making her vowels sound broader and rounder, and how her words carry a natural fast-paced rhythm. Her hands dance around, making big gestures as she talks to you, creating a visual emphasis that brings her delivery to life. 

Before seeing Luiza’s name and face on the Columbia University website, I had already known who she was. I had already heard that accent and witnessed her energy, even if she had no clue who I was. As I saw her through my screen, a sense of familiarity washed over me. It was not just because we had taken a lecture class together two years ago, though despite my memory’s tendency to fail me, I somehow remember Luiza sharing her thoughts and experiences in Politics of Urban Development in Latin America. She is a person hard to go unnoticed and be forgotten. It was more the feeling of knowing her, even if that was not true. Still, with a screen and thousands of miles in between, I could sense her vibrant personality sneaking up on me—effortlessly charming and warm.

“It comes and goes,” Luiza told me at the beginning of our first conversation. She was Zooming in from her home in Goiânia, a rural city right at the heart of Brazil, or “the Brazilian Nashville” as she put it, referring to its thriving country music scene. Being in her childhood house, staying with her parents even if it is only for the holidays, has delayed her fully coming to terms with the fact that she has been selected as one of only 32 US Rhodes Scholars. The Scholarship is considered to be one of, if not the most, prestigious international awards, granting students the opportunity to pursue a degree at the University of Oxford cost-free. Yet, hiding in between these moments of apparent normalcy, small moments, like rewatching The Princess Diaries 2 where Lady Elissa is mentioned to be one of the awardees, bring her back to her new reality. In all realities, however, Luiza is as genuine as it gets. You feel you can trust her, and you are not left wondering why. 

Luiza was born in the US and moved to Goiânia with her parents when she was nine months old. “For the longest, I didn’t know what it looked like not to be from here,” she admitted when I asked her how it was growing up in Brazil, a question that begged to be posed despite being one I didn’t expect to get an answer to. Being from Perú and a frequent receiver of that question, I understand all too well the impossibility of putting into words one’s whole life. “Thankfully they didn’t ask me that in my [Rhodes Scholarship] interview,” she responded instead between chuckles.

Luiza’s world expanded abruptly when she left the familiarity of her home in Goiânia to start her studies in Political Science and Education at Columbia. She arrived in New York—a city only for the bold, or at least that’s what they say and I like to believe—in 2021 after spending an isolating first semester in her childhood room in the thick of the COVID-19 pandemic. 

For Luiza, studying in the US was only natural. This path would allow her to pursue what she truly wanted—Political Science, a major that not only carries a negative connotation in Latin America, but that is not even offered as an option in Brazil—while, as a student from a low-income background, honoring the people, from her parents to scholarship donors funding her private school education, who had believed in her potential. It was then that, with the support of Brazilian foundations and after convincing her father that a full-tuition award could be explained by more than “human trafficking,” Luiza made it to the big city.

New York, and it should be of no surprise to anyone, could not have differed more from Goiânia. “Everyone can be kind of rude. We are really nice in Brazil,” Luiza blurted casually, and a hearty laugh escaped my mouth, not because I found it nonsensical, but because it was quite the opposite. My mind raced back to the countless times during my first few months here when I was left wondering whether I was too soft, too caring for it all. 

It felt comforting, even if selfishly, to find out that someone like Luiza, who appeared to me as a natural people person with confidence oozing from her every pore, struggled with many of the same problems I initially did too: the language barrier, the impossibility of finding people to connect with, the sense of not being smart enough, the fear of not belonging anywhere. There is a level of vulnerability in admitting this to someone you just met, to someone you knew was taking in your every word, holding the ultimate power in capturing who you are. 

It didn’t take long for Luiza, however, to take New York and Columbia by storm. She became a Laidlaw Scholar, spending her first two summers researching campaign financing in Brazil and interning for a female empowerment grassroots organization in Mexico; was named a UNICEF Young Leader, advocating for youth mental health; received multiple fellowships, researching comparative education policy; and graduated from the University with honors; all while leading a non-profit educational organization in Brazil she founded her second-year at Columbia. There is no wonder why Ariella Lang, the Director of Undergraduate Research and Fellowships at the University, who met Luiza as a freshman and worked hand-in-hand with her throughout the Rhodes application process, remembers her fondly as having an “insatiable amount of energy and can-do spirit.”

I thought about how much easier it would be to explain her extensive commitments through a limited social life. “I didn’t have a boyfriend, so that made it really easy because I had a lot of free time on my hands,” Luiza joked as if reading my mind. Boyfriend or not, Luiza eventually found her people at Columbia. She met her best friends through Laidlaw, became part of the big Brazilian community on campus, and forged connections with everyone kind enough to strike up a conversation, from one of Hillary Clinton’s Secret Service officers stationed right outside her dorm building to the dining hall staff whose work is often overlooked by our peers. “Actually, Victor who works at Ferris is my first friend at Columbia overall,” she shared with the brightest of smiles, with a simple look at her Instagram revealing the bond she had with him and the rest of the dining team. 

As impressive as Luiza is on paper, I was more struck by how she seems to walk through life, nurturing and cherishing above all the connections she finds along the way. Making friends from strangers, Luiza has built a home in New York. “Who I am is so intertwined between the world that I live in right now [in New York], that I feel I would never belong to just one place,” she contemplated, and momentarily, I saw myself reflected in her. When the realities you have only ever known merge, the constant feeling of living in the in-between creeps in to stay and you try to reconcile the feeling of uneasiness that comes with finding a second home in a place that could not be more different than where you find your roots, nearly 3,650 miles away. And, without noticing, one day you reach a point of no return where both worlds are intrinsic parts of who you are.

For Luiza, being at Columbia was also like living two different lives: one in Brazil—a country hit hard by the pandemic, political turmoil, and financial crises—and one in New York—a mystical city that has been the muse to so many artists hoping to capture even a glimpse of what this place has to offer. To her, this in-betweenness gifted her a unique lens to make sense of her present and her future. The discrepancy in realities opened her eyes to how access to education is the only way to explain her story, laying there the way to bridge the gap between both worlds. “It was so clear to me that I wanted to give back,” Luiza affirmed.

In her sophomore year of college, Luiza founded Tocando em Frente, a non-profit organization that works to prevent school dropout rates in rural Brazil. The name translates directly to “Moving Ahead” and while I was ready to accept a touching, philosophical story of how the name came to be, Luiza dissipated my expectations by clarifying how she got it from a popular Brazilian country song without giving it much thought. The name, nonetheless, matters little when you understand the work it does. Tocando em Frente uses a community-based strategy to reach its goals—it finds young people who understand and resonate with the educational challenges, trains them over three months, and guides them in implementing the curriculum and lesson plans in rural communities in Brazil. Since 2021, the organization has exceeded Luiza’s expectations, growing to currently having over 140 volunteers nationwide and benefiting more than 11,000 students. 

In an elite institution like Columbia which can often be plagued by over-competitiveness and the incessant pursuit of prestige, it is refreshing to meet someone like Luiza whose work is grounded in genuine care and deep-rooted commitment to the communities she belongs to. Oxford is not a new addition to her list of accolades, but a way to ensure she can pursue the meaningful work she has always been devoted to.

Luiza embraces the uncertainty of the future, candidly admitting that she had never really thought about how her life would look after college. One might be surprised, then, to find out that Luiza didn’t plan to go to graduate school so soon, only applying after realizing a career in educational policy requires a specific set of knowledge and skills. Even throughout the process, there were multiple instances of doubt, from considering not turning her application in for the internal University nomination to not showing up to the interview. “I had a lot of friends who believed in me before I did, and that made a huge difference because I didn’t think I was good enough for it,” Luiza reflected, leaving me wondering about how she could have ever thought that. 

It was never about accolades, but if Luiza had never applied to the program, she would never have become the first Brazilian citizen in history to be selected as a Rhodes Scholar. “That’s huge!” I exclaimed, expecting her to match my level of enthusiasm. “Huge, but I feel a little sad about it,” Luiza replied instead, and I sensed a hint of uncertainty in her voice, dragging her words as she said. For her, it is not about being the first, but about the implications of such achievement. “I can be proud to be the first one, but I cannot settle down until I am not the only one,” her voice was now steadier, and I could see why. It became evident to me she had already given this “achievement” a lot of thought, and I believed in her as she shared her desire to support outreach efforts and her conviction that they would be successful in increasing Latin American representation.

If for Luiza the future of the Rhodes Scholarship looks bright, her own does too, even if uncertain. Whether it is educational policy or politics, in Brazil or the United States, Luiza knows the tools she’ll gain at Oxford will prove to be invaluable. Above all, she is looking forward to “mak[ing] unconventional decisions” in her career without the pressure that comes with being a low-income student with the need to support one’s family. At Oxford, Luiza intends to pursue a Master of Public Policy and an MSc in Comparative and International Education.

One should know by now that with Luiza it will never only be about the professional. “I hope to be really excited about my personal life too,” Luiza added by the end, “Not exactly knowing what that would look like.” I am confident, though, it will look like what I see now—an accomplished adult who walks the world carrying her heart on her sleeve and finding joy in the little things in life, whether that takes the shape of roller skating and sharing it with her friends on Strava or reading rom-com books so bad they are a guilty pleasure she will never apologize for. 

“You’re awesome,” 22-year-old Luiza would tell her 13-year-old self if she could go back in time. “Never make other people feel like you’re not because you are.” And indeed, she is right. Talking to her, there is no doubt all versions of Luiza— past, present, and future, across all points in time—really are. 

Photo via Photographer Adauto Menezes