Friday, July 19, 2019
By:
“They’re very sexy politics.” I’m quoting my hometown mayor here, Rebecca Casper (already enjoying her second appearance in this blog series). I was 18, poised to graduate high school, and attending a city council meeting when the elected leader of Idaho Falls, Idaho spoke these fateful words. The moment marked a year’s conclusion of my first immersion in politics, and, after everything I learned, I felt compelled to agree. By that time I had run an unsuccessful campaign for student body president, been appointed to student body representative (a delicious irony), made numerous presentations to my district board, become a fully bona fide roadie of my city council, attended political rallies, and connected with local party leaders. Each experience intensified my appetite and only heightened my ambitions for my next political project. From the salient rat race for the White House to the more casual infighting at the local level, everything simply delighted me. Looking back at it all, I couldn’t deny the sage truth emanating from the mayoral pulpit that day. Against the wisdom of the Idaho Falls municipal government there can be no victory. There aren’t just sexy politics, I realized. Politics ARE sexy.
Blog readers will find none of this off brand. Over seven weeks, every blog has highlighted my nearly boundless enthusiasm for the boons of life in the capital. You watched with your mind’s eye as I frolicked the halls of the Department of Energy, you were there as I went elbow to elbow with the socialites of advanced manufacturing, and you read in rapt attention as I stalked James Richard Perry, Secretary of Energy. Evidence of my love affair with politics abounds everywhere, and we continue the romance with the Capitol Tour.
Given our buckshot distribution across DC and the greater tri-state area (ahem-the Maryland area), the masters from on high assign each intern with giving a tour of his or her workplace to the SPS cohort, and this year the Capitol was our maiden voyage (and, as you’ll see, the sole subject of my blog). During a more conventional year both Mather interns would lead the charge into the sausage factory. Convention, however, is hardly my forte. Gia, and Gia alone, would maneuver the halls of government to guide our plucky posse of peeps. With 15 physics majors in tow, she plunged into the madness.
...Or, at least, that’s how we like to think of it. Scrambling interns, scattering papers, a sprinting Sanders, we conjure up vivid displays of barely contained chaos. Yeas, nays, and maybaes shake the walls with a deafening echo as Congress members whoop and holler to drown out the yelps of opposition. The scene in our minds is loud, hectic, and wild, but the perceived pandemonium instills a measure of peace. I love the idea of a Congress out of order because the frenzy that accompanies it gives the sense that something is happening. ‘Tis a comforting thought to imagine our legislators fervently screaming. The alternative proves all too alarming.
We were greeted by a different flavor of chaos: tourists. Perhaps I reference them a tad distantly, but I believe my 7 plus week tenure in DC entitles me to at least some privileges. The eager sightseers gave life to the Capitol that day, not the senators or representatives. Everywhere we went, the statue hall, the bodiless crypt (tragic), the ye olde’ Supreme Court room in the basement, a steady yet bursting stream of tourists followed. Fortunately, enthusiasm is contagious.
At lunch I noticed another group of people marked distinctly by their purple lanyards. What started out as an initial sighting of 10 quickly turned to 20, then 30, then ditched the 10 digit increments altogether and leapt for the hundreds. As we proceeded to travel throughout the House Office buildings, PLPs (Purple-lanyard Peeps) appeared to populate every corner, crack, and crevice. I wanted to learn more, so, taking a note from Nic’s Declassified DC Survival Guide, I went up and asked. My targets were an elderly couple (the PLPs ranged drastically in age) from--as I recall--a deeper southern state. They revealed their organization as the Christians United for Israel, apparently the largest pro-Israel grassroots organization in the United States, and their total presence on the Hill numbered well into the thousands. The pair was excited and absolutely charmed by my interest in their story, and they quickly delved into the finer details of their purpose and progress. As the couple discussed their own adventures on the Hill, I remembered the message one of my mentor’s left me, “everyone is here for a reason.” Here in the capital, this is where almost all of the action happens. Not the politicians making imaginary sprints to cast vital votes but the people, groups, and organizations fighting for their attention. They have flocked to DC to be heard. That’s the real wonderful, beautiful chaos of politics.
But our story doesn’t end there. If I may exclaim with equal force as the promises that accompany such consumer treasures as the schticky, slapchop, and shamwow; wait, there’s more! Though they represent only a minute fraction of the total population on Capitol Hill in any given day, the politicians do indeed exist as our group can attest after a rare and privileged sighting. Represent Bill Foster of Illinois holds the unique position of being the only PhD physicist in Congress (though the fact one even exists may come as a surprise). The cohort’s more professionally developed connections have a long history with Rep. Foster, and the man himself has entertained more than one rodeo with SPS interns. Well, thanks to the efforts of Gia, we managed to enjoy an entire hour with him. I have never seen our group more engaged. From the moment our discussion began to the time his scheduler had to hurry him to his next event, eyes and ears were fixed on the physicist turned politician. Going around the room, we each had the opportunity to share a few sentences about ourselves (current projects and future aspirations being the favorite topics), and as we did so Representative Foster found a personal way to connect and elaborate on a detail from everyone. The conversation hosted a palette of rich and even exotic flavors. We investigated the technical nuances of the research being done by Terry, Nolan, and Joseph; he opened up about his predictions for AI and the technology’s incoming impact on the economy; and we inquired about the challenges of science policy and the transition from experimentalist to legislator. I think everyone left his office with slightly more than the daily recommended intake of inspiration. My serving, at least, was more than liberal.
And yet, the day still had one more surprise in store.
After the tour’s main events, those interested splintered into smaller groups to see about meeting our personal representatives. Jackie and Joseph made off for an Iowaoan, a large group assembled to attempt a visit with AOC (or Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez for those who hold to the aging notion of using names), while Noura, Gia, Megan, and I went as a group to our distinct corners of the country. First up, the great state of Florida. No representative, but we did all receive complimentary orange juice (such sweet, blessed nectar). Fueled on adrenaline and vitamin C, Idaho became our natural next stop. We walked into Representative Mike Simpson’s personal cubby in the Rayburn building to find him sitting right in front of us talking amicably with staff. At first, a wave of light panic rushed through my head. I did not expect him to be there, and I was worried about transitioning into conversation under startling circumstances. Fortunately, Representative Simpson happens to be a politician, a career that thrives off of human interaction. The gang engaged in introductory conversation with Simpson and his staff for about ten minutes until, in a sudden turn of events, my home fry Mike invited the four of us into his personal office. There, gathered ‘round his desk, we continued talking for another 30 minutes (almost exclusively about America’s direction in nuclear energy and Idaho’s own nuclear history). I am extremely grateful for the courtesy my representative extended us.
I came to DC with high expectations, but I didn’t imagine anything quite like this.
Let’s end it there.
Nicholas Stubblefield