Geography Reference
In-Depth Information
Two decades later, Elden is still coordinating the bee, now a massive event that involves
fivemillionparticipantsnationwide.Winnowingagroupthatsize—roughlytheentirepop-
ulation of Norway—down to a single winner is a grueling six-month process, of a rigor
normally reserved for the selection of Mercury astronauts or Green Berets. Thirteen thou-
sand schools nationwide hold mini-bees each autumn, and the winner of each is given a
written test. The hundred top scorers in each state advance to a state-level bee. Finally, the
winners from each of the fifty states (as well as the District of Columbia, Guam, Puerto
Rico, U.S. Pacific territories, and Department of Defense schools worldwide) are flown to
Washington each May to participate in the national bee. They take turns at the microphone
throughninepreliminary roundsofbafflinggeographyquestions, until justthetenhighest-
scoringfinalistsremain.Thesecontestantsappearinatelevisedfinalroundendingwiththe
crowning of a lone champion, who receives a $25,000 college scholarship and “lifetime
membership in the National Geographic Society.” I'm not exactly sure what the latter en-
tails these days, but I bet you get lots of color photos of rain forests and polar bears.
As I step into the Washington Plaza Hotel on a cloudy Wednesday morning, registration
has already concluded and the tiled lobby is abuzz with anticipation. Between the koi
tank and the closed-off conference rooms that will hold the preliminary matches vibrates
a nervous, geographically gifted mass of humanity: fifty-five energetic kids, mostly boys,
mostly in striped polo shirts of various colors, mostly heartbreakingly
little
. Each is the
nucleus of an excited family unit that doesn't seem to be interacting much with any of the
others, beyond sidelong glances. “It sounds like some of the kids have been here many
times,” one worried-looking grandparent tells her daughter in a low voice. It feels like the
mob scene behind the starting line of a marathon. Everyone is waiting for the double doors
to open.
Oncetheydo,parentsreviewroomassignmentsandhustletheirkidsintotheirrespective
game rooms. The competitors will be divided into five groups of eleven each for the pre-
lims;eachgroupisaskedthesamesetofquestions,andonlythetoptenscorersoverallwill
advance to tomorrow morning's final. Then I hear a familiar stentorian voice at the end of
the hallway, a voice that still makes my pulse rush a little every time I hear it. This isn't
puppylove;it'sjustamildcaseofPost-TraumaticGameShowDisorder.Myold
Jeopardy!
nemesis Alex Trebek is walking toward me, chatting with bee organizers.
“Hello, Ken!” he says amiably. It's always weird to see Alex out of his usual dapper
Perry Ellis getup; today he's wearing a leather jacket and Dad jeans and has a garment bag
hoistedoveroneshoulder.Theveteran quiz-showhosthasemceed theNational Geograph-
ic Bee finals ever since the event's inception. And he's not just a bored hired gun jetting in
for a quick paycheck: Alex is a geography bee
believer
.
“It's not just maps!” he tells me sternly when I tell him I'm writing a topic about maps.
“That's what we're trying to do here: show people that old-time geography was just maps,
but the new geography is all this instead”: history, earth science, ecology, economics. He
