Liberal Arts, D.C., and Success

As I filled out internship applications last March, I set my sights high. Intent on fulfilling my lifelong dream of working in Washington, D.C., I applied primarily to congressional offices in both the House and Senate. My resume, however, was thin, and I didn’t expect to look very impressive to prospective employers, especially in the U.S. Congress. It was thus a surprise when I received an email from the intern coordinator at the office of U.S. Rep. Keith Ellison in Washington, D.C., requesting an interview; and it was an even bigger surprise when, several days later, she emailed me again offering me the internship. After receiving funding from the class of 1963 to cover living expenses, I made arrangements to move to Washington for the summer.

My first day at the office brought yet more surprises. Less than two hours into the morning, a senior staffer whom I had never met addressed me by name, summoned me into a conference area, and gave me a list of tasks to complete. While my first jobs were menial, my responsibilities escalated quickly. By my third week, I was preparing memos and drafting op-ed pieces on subjects ranging from arbitration in consumer investment contract disputes to Federal Housing Finance Agency policy. I did not expect the rapidity with which my responsibilities increased, nor did I expect the degree of independence I was quickly allowed. And I certainly didn’t expect it when the congressman personally summoned me into his office to compliment me on a memo that I thought would only be seen by staffers.

Over the 10 weeks of my internship, I experienced many things I did not expect. In a Washington that is popularly portrayed as deadlocked and out of touch, I was surprised at the number of genuine, compassionate people I met and the lengths to which they were willing to go for their constituents. The phone calls, letters, and emails from everyday citizens to which I responded demonstrated to me an unexpected degree of popular civic engagement that both gave purpose to my work and inspired me to work harder. Many elected officials whom I had the opportunity to meet, though often imagined as stuffy and disconnected, were personable and engaged. Congressional hearings, especially those of the House Financial Services Committee, were surprisingly fascinating to me; and I found myself poring over legislation that I never would have expected to find interesting.

Of course, not every unexpected event was directly related to the work I completed. I was surprised, for example, at the price of groceries in Washington, which was far higher than in my hometown of Minneapolis. As a congressional intern, I was surprised at the number of receptions to which I was invited, and further surprised at the even greater number into which I could sneak. The heat and humidity of Washington were unwelcome surprises that, though survivable, made my commute unpleasant. But the most unexpected things about my summer were the skills I ended up using the most: those that I gained from my Grinnell coursework in history and classics. None of the work I completed in Congress required knowledge of American immigration history or the ability to translate Latin, but it was my study of concise writing, clear argumentation, and judicial use of evidence that proved to be of greatest utility in the work I completed. 

When I came to Grinnell, I had no “plan;” indeed, I only reluctantly crafted a four-year course plan halfway into the second semester of my second year at my adviser’s insistence. I took courses not to prepare for a specific career but because I was interested in them. While this method of course selection made my classroom experience enjoyable, I began to worry as I applied for internships last March that it would leave me unprepared to enter the “real world,” whatever that might be. 

Unlike some of my friends and classmates, I didn’t spend my time at Grinnell preparing for a certain postgraduate experience. But in Washington, I found that, to my surprise, that might not matter; the skills I am honing at Grinnell have applications across career paths and postgraduate programs. My initial surprise at the usefulness of those skills in my work last summer eventually gave way to a greater appreciation of the coursework I’ve completed. When asked why I decided to major in history or why I chose to attend a small liberal arts college like Grinnell, I could answer with authority that I made those decisions not merely out of personal preference, but because they furthered my professional development as well. I’m still honing my skills in evidence use, writing, and argumentation, and I look forward to continuing to be surprised by the unexpected ways my Grinnell education will serve me in the future.