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Politics and Activism

True Life: I Was an Intern

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True Life: I Was an Intern

Last Summer, I had the fantastic opportunity to intern for my Congressman in Washington. Being extremely naive, I was ready to become Frank Underwood... I failed miserably. But luckily, even the average day provided plenty of excitement and entertainment.

While the stereotypical intern duties like getting coffee and donuts were a rare occurrence (maybe it’s because I got the wrong donuts on one excursion), there were still plenty of things consuming my time. A large portion of intern work was constituent correspondence. A typical day involved answering phones, sorting emails and checking faxes, something I didn’t know still existed in the 21st Century. The great thing about our representative democracy is that constituents can always give their opinions to their representative in Congress. The not-so-great thing is that those who voice their opinions are very rarely that happy, and typically think the person on the phone has far more power than in reality. Throughout my time working, I had to say, “I’m sorry, but I can not impeach the President,” more times than I hope to in the rest of my life. Fortunately, my Congressman was always an extremely encouraging individual whose kind words helped me and the other interns to maintain some level of sanity.

Another intern duty was providing tours of the Capitol. With my “Intern” badge, I led tours looking far more official than my title showed. There’s nothing more prestigious than trying to explain the history of our great nation’s Capitol to a 5 and 9 year old, and that’s exactly what I did. 

By the end of everything, I was an expert. This was in part due to not having anyone to tell me if I got the history wrong...but I’m just remaining optimistic. Almost every tour was flawlessly guided by yours truly, the only bump in the road was seeing my pledge trainer in the rotunda...I’ll admit, that one threw me off of my game.

At the end of each day after a long and crowded subway ride home, one or two (never any more) drinks were needed, that is except for intern nights every Tuesday at the closest bar. I really don’t think there were any specials, but Tuesdays became the big night to go out and see those same people who looked far more professional a few hours before. Wednesday mornings were the designated day to give an awkward hello to every hungover intern seen the previous night. In my humble opinion, the Capitol should open up at noon on Wednesdays. I’m still not sure how it functions without well-rested interns.

As tedious and sometimes frustrating as an internship can be, there were plenty of fun moments and awesome people who made it great. Being able to put it on my resume helped a little bit too.

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