Impressions of a DC intern

These are truly the times that try men’s souls. If you’ve been watching cable news recently, you know all about it. “America’s economy is sinking into the dreaded double-dip recession, taking the rest of the world with it!” “The American People cry out for leadership, while little or nothing of substance is accomplished in Washington!” “Our leaders seem too busy keeping their jobs to actually do their jobs or create any for the rest of us!” “Is this the end of America?”

The writer’s (pictured second from the left) proximity to Rick Santorum does in no way reflect his endoresement of the Republican presidential candidate’s policies.

I have questioned my government’s ability to govern over the last few years. In fact, part of my decision to take an internship in the city that so many pundits have derided as the very heart of corruption in our society was to find out for myself if it’s really as bad as they say. I never found the elaborate charade I went looking for, however.

Ironically, my experience working in Washington DC during a summer of contention and sensationalism left me with a renewed sense of patriotism, a deeper appreciation of history and a profound respect for the grunts that really run this country.

Most people’s glorious first foray into the world of DC politics starts behind a desk, answering phones and running errands. I was no different. On one occasion I was charged with calling the offices of 106 freshmen representatives for their contact information. If I was slightly intimidated by the prospect of talking to real political operatives, I got over it quickly. The process was so slow and repetitive that by the end of the day my mood had deteriorated to the point that I was terrifying other lowly interns over the phone with my impatient grumbling.

I was often sent to hearings in the House or Senate buildings to write policy memos for the higher-ups in my office. After countless wrong turns, a few embarrassing entrances into occupied offices I mistook for committee rooms and speechless run-ins with people I had seen on TV for years, I eventually got over the grandeur and spectacle of Washington DC  and settled into the task at hand: not sucking at my job like most interns do.

Listening intently to what I used to consider dull committee testimony helped me notice how many terrific politicians there are. My heroes are that the ones who see their political responsibilities as nothing less than the most important thing they will do with their life. While ambitious presidential hopefuls jostle for leadership positions on sexy committees like Ways and Means, the rest sit on the Banking Committee and decide whether or not to reauthorize the Federal Emergency Management Agency’s latest national flood insurance plan. As dull as it sounds, helping devastated constituents rebuild after a flood is as noble a goal I’ve seen the government undertake, and they should be proud of their work.

Today, I find myself awed by the genius of the Founding Fathers. The stalemate in Washington this summer was so utterly spectacular that I can’t help but wonder if that was just how they wanted huge, fundamental debates to be conducted. True and lasting progress will forever be incremental. The merits of this political system will be hotly debated into the foreseeable future, but the notion of public service as a sacrifice is not dead. It is just not exciting enough to put on the news. But seeing it in person inspired me, and it convinced me that we really haven’t strayed so far. One day soon, the city on a hill will shine brighter than ever.

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