“Commonsense Conservatives & lovers of America” Sarah Palin wrote on her Twitter, “Don’t Retreat, Instead – RELOAD!” The former running mate of Senator John McCain has been chastised by Democratic leaders for inciting hostility through such violent imagery. This mutiny against rationality has even seeped onto the former Governor’s Facebook page, where she offers a map detailing the locations of Democratic lawmakers with a target over their districts. Ms. Palin’s aides and party have gone so far as to defend her colorful rhetoric, Senator McCain was clear in his defense of the former beauty queen declaring, “Those words have been used throughout my political career.”

To measure our current political environment to anything this country has previously encountered is dumbfounding, revisionist, and myopic. Lives are being threatened with each coming day, families are being harassed, offices are being vandalized and for what, the sake democracy? It is not democratic to purport the hatred of others due to ideological differences. It is not democratic to disgorge sycophantic graces towards the Talking Heads for demonizing elected officials in the media. And it most assuredly not democratic to spit, curse, and spew epithets towards our respected representatives simply because your views do not align with theirs.

In three weeks the Second Amendment March will occur in the nation’s capitol. In three weeks thousands of concealed firearms and “concerned individuals” will come within close proximity of the legislators they have been urged to set ablaze. It is no small coincidence that this march will occur on the exact anniversary of the Oklahoma City Bombing and it is disturbing to imagine the malicious actions witnessed over the past week escalating to any even higher degree. But what will happen when the Tea Party movement urges its enthusiastic members to come locked and loaded to the National Mall, some in celebration of Ted Kaczynski’s heinous act? What will happen when the voices of rationality in this country become the minority, when the coalesced chanting of a shortsighted group of individuals becomes so great, as to disavow all reason?

Though the Republican Party has meagerly denounced the use of intimidation as “unacceptable” it continues to egg on a movement that only seeks to envelope an entire nation in its extremism. The tea baggers need not bring ammunition with them when they visit our Capitol, surely their over-wrought, xenophobic, gay-bashing, anti-democratic hatred can suffice. And if it doesn’t well then maybe members of the Republican Party can supply the artillery, after all they did provide their own “Kill the Bill” signs for the last rally.

Surely, one of the greatest highlights of our college experience must be the participation in the historic 2008 election. Our generation fought to register voters, they barnstormed campaign events, twisted arms and eventually they took the streets in celebration. They were last seen along fire escapes on Easton Ave., perched on cars by Rockoff Hall, and huddled together in the street on College Avenue, championing their democratic right to elect their president.

That time has come and gone, the celebration has been done with for some time now, but we have to make our voices heard loud and clear once more. The world isn’t the same as it was in November of 08’, the economy hasn’t caught up yet, the price of living continues to skyrocket, and all the while it has become increasingly dangerous for those we send to public office to make a single move on our behalf without the endangering their lives.

Our lawmakers are being faxed photographs of nooses, their offices are being vandalized around the country, and the extremist, volatile, racist, homophobic voice within the Tea Party is piercing through the media with an over-wrought crescendo.  We stood up and said, “Stop” when our basketball players were treated with such disparaging disrespect and we take to the tents each year in protest of our tuition hikes. But where is our voice now?

We have to take to the phones and internet, call and email our Congressman and the media, and let the extremists out there understand that there is a difference between respectful debate and terrorism; intimidation does not go unpunished. We are the intellectual leaders of the future and we have to do away with the apathetic attitude we’ve assumed. We have to protect our right to elect our steadfast leaders and protect their unequivocal right to govern.

The collected, inherent inchoate of the right is growing exponentially each day and we have to combat it by creating a coalescent voice of moderation to those who have become deafened by their own ceaseless chanting. For even in the guise of fear-mongering, should we stand tall and allow our vote to count.

The Presidential Election of 2008 was a precursor to the tumultuous, acidic, and politically polarized summer we have before us. We must let the diligence we have exercised throughout our tenure at this university carry us to our polling place come November so that game-changing legislation can continue to sweep the halls of Congress.

I was excited when I woke up this morning, for on Friday I had visited my Congressman and secured tickets for myself to sit the House Gallery and watch the Health Care Reform vote. I wont use this blog to announce my beliefs and my opinions of the bill, but I will say however that I respect my government and its officials and that however much I do disagree with them I would never admonish them using racial and vulgar slurs, spitting on their heels as the walk. I was excited this morning to take in the sight of the House chamber flooded with elected officials, not to chance upon the consternation of so many ignorant few who simply walk the path the talking heads lead them down.

I was excited this morning because I knew that by 2pm I would be sitting in a front row seat in the House gallery as each member voted not just their conscience, but their constituents’. What I did not expect however were swarms of individuals sent to the Gallery as an act of protest. What I did not expect  were shouts from behind my seat of those who disagreed, calling the Congressman liars and worthless, chanting “Kill the Bill!”. What I did not expect were the numerous ocassions in which this occurred. It caused, but a brief disturbance in the House and the Congressman then continued on with their business. This volatility is permeating the country at the moment–and if this protester thought his illegal actions would make a difference toward his cause he was wrong, for little did he know that there was someone sitting right in front of him that would use that instance to propel himself into the political arena to someday make a difference.

The video of the man shouting can be viewed here:

http://voices.washingtonpost.com/44/2010/03/kill-the-bill-shouts-protester.html

The analogy isn’t new-Washington stalwart tactics and football-seems common enough. But if one were to walk around the Capitol, Massachusetts Ave, or K Street, they would find an entire community altogether: a world composed of sportscasters in this highly volatile game. With every Congressman or Senator comes another policy think tank, another lobbying group, another grassroots effort to either defend or derail them. The members of Congress themselves make up, but the smallest percentage in this city, what makes up the majority, however, are the hundreds and hundreds of people employed just to memorize each member’s resume or their past transgressions.

In this game of football the players are honorable no matter how much we may disagree with their ideological intentions. The sportscasters, watching jealously from the sidelines, commenting on the players every move, and then manipulating the public and the media into a phantom conflict-driving the players to pick sides-those are the ill-intentioned, disillusioned few too full of ambition to care about the chaos they’ve created.

When you sit down with a Congressman, eat breakfast, share some coffee, and discuss the volatile environment, and that Congressman states, “the other team is just better at demonizing us, we’re squeamish” you know that the game is already lost, perhaps not on the field, but in the players’ minds.

”Do I look like an intern?”

“If I don’t look the part, does that mean people will assume I cant be the part, so no one will give me the job?”

“Am I honestly doing anything at my job, anything important at all?”

“There are hundreds and hundreds of interns out there, how can I possibly standout? What do I have that so many others don’t?”

Being here has helped me engage with others about the very same questions that go through my head, though the list above is a combination of questions I’ve heard from friends, I’m sure they’ve run through my head more than once. There are days where I feel incredibly productive, important, and grateful for having the opportunity of working in this city. And of course there are other days where I’m begging to be on the Charles River in Boston or in Soho New York. But after spending time in Washington, after being ensconced by this environment where you learn anything and everything from the most intelligent individuals the world has to offer, after being in the epicenter of change the places you once longed for just seem to disintegrate in their importance. Yes, I would love a vacation right now, especially now that my friends are all on spring break somewhere, but I also know that while they’re lying in the sun, or laying back watching television, I’ll be walking up and down the corridors of the Hart or Dirksen Senate Buildings smiling and saying hi to some of the men and women who’s importance is unmatched in this country.

I can sit and ponder on my first impressions. I can sit and hearken back to my first day here, my second, and third. I can look at this town with the large impressionable eyes of an intern and be grateful for every small task given to me, but then I wouldn’t be me, would I?

You come here because you want to be a part of something larger than yourself, you want to make a substantive contribution, you want to make large strides of progression in place of the marginal advancements you made when back home.

There’s too much to see, too much to do and only 24 hours in a day. This could all be gone in a New York minute and then what? What would you have to show for it, but a series of essays concerning your elations at what DC has to offer? Yet I sit here and I type away recounting the moments that allowed me no existential choice, but to write everything down.

Taking the metro from Crystal City to the office of my employer was probably the easiest part, get on the yellow, get off 3 stops later, go up the escalator and look up at the towering building made of glass: you’ve arrived. The hard part was walking PAST the inviting Starbucks on the first floor of the same building. Harder still was relaxing. The amount of scenarios that went through my head are almost incalculable…I thought they’d ask my views on how the health care bill would get passed. Or on what I thought about the recent Supreme Court decision allowing millions of dollars to be contributed to campaigns without the hindrance of those pesky little American laws. I was sure my employer would ask me about how the appropriations process worked-considering I was directed to a website that outlined the process minutely (although it is still one of the most arcane areas of our political system).

The elevator up to the 8^th floor was calm and quite, though I wish there was some ruckus, some bustle, a disturbance of some sort-so as to match the tension of how I felt. But no, the ride up was smooth and it was completely calm. I took a deep breath before I got off the elevator, took two steps forwards once the doors opened, turned to my left and saw the name of the firm etched into glass doors. The tension was gone now, it was time to perform.

The greatest advice I was given (I’m pretty positive it was from Ayn Rand through her Fountainhead character Peter Keating): dress the part, act the part, be chameleon like and ultimately you will be the part. It was time to perform.

I walked confidently down the hallway fully aware that I was now going to reap the rewards of working so hard, finally working for an elegant firm, just blocks away from the Capitol Building, this is what I worked so hard for. At least I thought it was where I belonged…the door was locked…there was no one there.

As it turns out the nervous-wreck of an intern who didn’t know what building to enter, let alone what elevator to ride, was the first one TO GET TO THE OFFICE!