Orientation Week
The very first day
of orientation, the ambassador to the Organization of American States,
Ambassador Carmen Lomellin, spoke to us. She is an amazing, inspiring woman,
and a fantastic speaker. She spoke about her Chicano background, and her
experience as a high-ranking Hispanic woman. She gave us, the Congressional
Hispanic Caucus Institute Spring 2014 intern class, plenty of useful advice,
both ideologically and practically. What resonated most with me was that she
told us to embrace our Hispanic heritage, to not be offended if we are hired
for a job because of it, and to realize that it brings something extremely valuable
to the table. She also advised us to reach out to people and ask for their
help, to send hand-written thank you cards for their time, and to cultivate
relationships. As an example of the importance of cultivating relationships,
she told a story about an “eager, skinny, tall kid” who made “a lot of noise”
while as an intern in the office. Eventually, he became President of the United
States. Ambassador Lomellin praised him for cultivating relationships and
building his professional network from the time he was an intern. She does not
credit all his success to his interpersonal skills, but encouraged us to use
his example and show others we are worth their investment of time and training
by working hard in any position we may find ourselves.
Many other prominent
Hispanic leaders spoke to us during orientation week. They spoke about such
topics as balancing Hispanic heritage and family pressures with educational
goals, being a minority in their chosen fields, and having to break down
barriers and build coalitions in order to achieve common objectives. As they
all told their stories, I paused to think about what my own narrative would be.
For a long time, I have wanted to become a teacher. I love working with kids, I
love to teach, and in the three summers I’ve spent as a teaching fellow, I’ve
learned I am very good at it. However, another important reason why I want to
teach is because it is proactive and helps me fight off feelings of
helplessness. There are so many problems in the world: modern-day slavery exists,
evil corporations take advantage of the vulnerable, rape is used as a weapon of
war. Even in my own community, it is impossible to ignore the problems:
homelessness is prevalent, people are denied jobs due to their race or gender, and
tomatoes growing in Homestead are not only environmentally taxing, but rely on
the exploitation of farm workers. Teaching, however, helps me feel like I can
make a difference. In the microecosystem of my classroom, I can help cultivate
self-esteem, love of learning, and a commitment to social justice. Yes, reading
and writing and math and science will also be taught, but I believe in a
well-rounded education. I chose to teach because I can help bridge the
achievement gap, even if it at the glacial pace of twenty to thirty students
per year. Orientation week, however, helped me see that I can effectuate change
within a larger sphere of influence if I chose a different career path.
Hispanic and Latinos are underrepresented in government jobs, in the non-profit
sector, and in the corporate world. Yes, South Florida is my community, but I
also belong to the broader community of Hispanic and Latinos living in the
United States. Don’t I have a responsibility to advocate for them, too?
However, if I do choose to go down that route and begin a prominent career, am
I simultaneously choosing to give up on family? These and other questions have
framed the context of my experience here in Washington, DC.
The Awe of the Hill
It is absolutely impossible not
to be awed your first day as a Capitol Hill intern. On the walk up to either
the House or Senate office buildings, from nearly every direction, the view of
the Capitol building itself is breathtaking. After several minutes of standing
with the other interns, taking pictures, and trying not to look too eager, I
finally walked inside Longworth House Office building. I went through security,
took the elevator, took more pictures, and eventually went into the office of
Congressman Joe Garcia.
That
first week, I felt overwhelmed. I felt underqualified. I felt overqualified. I
was quickly disillusioned by what went on in the House, only to have my faith
in the legislative branch renewed time and time again.
The Intern ID
Every
Capitol Hill intern receives an ID. The shiny new intern badge is so exciting
at first. It lets us use the “Members and staff” entrances, and grants us
access to restricted areas of the Capitol. It is thrilling to have it, use it,
and show it off. That feeling eventually wears off. Although not immediately
noticeable at first, the intern ID has a light green overall color tone. Only
interns have “green badges.”
IDs for
full-time staffers are blue, and Members of Congress have their easily
identifiable lapel pins.
Most Capitol Hill interns go
through a three-stage relationship with their IDs. First is the awe stage.
Again, it is impossible not to be awed by the fact that you are interning for
the legislative branch of the United States government. There, that first two
weeks, interns wear their badges with pride. It is always easy to spot the new
arrivals because they are still wearing their intern ID.
The second stage in the
intern/intern ID relationship is the hiding stage. As will be discussed further
in the next section, Capitol Hill is an extremely hierarchal place, and the
wearing your shiny green intern badge easily identifies you as an intern from
across the room. As such, Capitol Police, members of the custodial staff, tour
guides, and others in general are usually very helpful and try to send you in
the correct direction. However, their help reaffirms that you look as lost as
you feel. Hiding your intern badge is a way to look a little less lost.
The third stage is the
separation stage. I’ve not yet reached it, but I know it’s coming. Sometime
soon, my last day as a Capitol Hill intern will arrive. When that day comes, I
will have to return my ID. Those who trade in their intern ID for a full-time
staff ID look at this day as a victory. Those of us who leave DC, particularly
without concrete plans of coming back, realize that turning in the intern ID
symbolically concludes our time as “Hillterns,” and ends the privileges and
responsibilities associated with the title.
The Hierarchy of Capitol Hill
 |
| Staff hierarchy within my office. Individual offices vary slightly. |
Capitol
Hill is an extremely hierarchical work environment. (The pyramid to the right depicts the
hierarchy within most offices. The Member
of Congress, who is an elected official and obviously the most important person
in the office, is not included in the pyramid.) Therefore, as a Capitol Hill
intern, you quickly realize that you are the bottom of the totem pole. You are
the person your office will send to collect signatures on a letter, or to
deliver birthday cards from your Member of Congress to other Members, or to run
down to the Flag Office to pick up a certificate. As a Capitol Hill intern, you
are a well-dressed errand runner.
However,
that is not the bulk of what you do. At least, it isn’t the bulk of what I do.
I attend briefings and hearings on behalf of the staffers in the office, write
memos and reports on said briefings, conduct background research for specific
projects, and create such amazing Excel tables that the Yale-educated
legislative assistant felt compelled to ask me to teach him to create them. I
have loved my time as a Capitol Hill intern. It truly is the embodiment of the
saying that “you get out of an experience what you put in to it.” As an intern,
you have the choice of sitting idly at your desk, waiting to be given a
meaningful assignment, or you can be diligently working, seeking out occasions
to learn and grow. Every day presents new learning opportunities, and it is up
to me to seize them.
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