Capitolcapital

Washington DC is one of my favorite cities, even though most of the town has nothing to do with reality.  Its resources for history are greater than any other, its restaurants and cultural resources are only exceeded in the US by New York, and the architecture, in general, is inspiring and gorgeous. It’s also the ultimate melting pot, where diplomats and policy makers from all over the world convene to try to make sense of the globe and of one another.  This may explain why, in a city known for its might, a half inch of snow brings it to a grinding halt.  No one knows what to do with snow.

I was reminded of the egocentric nature of DC when I sat down to discuss what was a cutting-edge proposal made by a member of the House of Representatives.  Politicians, like most adults, are convinced they know how to run a school, simply because they went to school—a trait that, in my humble opinion, is the single greatest reason American schools are in a decades-long decline.

In this case, this chap was on to something.  Everyone is looking for college scholarships, he reasoned, but finding them is often impossible.  (Yes, this was before the Internet.)  Why don’t we get the federal government to collect all the scholarship opportunities available- public, private, from colleges and otherwise—and put them in a book that gets published and delivered to all high schools and public libraries in the country?  This had all the bells and whistles that appealed to politicians, since college was seen as the pathway to prosperity, scholarships were really popular, and the economics of the bill were very affordable.

Turns out, maybe too affordable. 

“I love this idea.  What’s it going to cost?”

I was a high school counselor, pitching this idea with other high school counselors, all with minuscule budgets.  That’s why we all looked at the floor when I cleared my throat and said, “Well congressman, we’d need, um, ten million dollars.”

I’d just come from a meeting where the discussion of cost led that member of Congress to pause.  This one also paused, then chuckled softly, and leaned forward in his chair.

This is my recollection of his words. “Look, this is a great idea, and my constituents would love me if I supported this bill.  But there are only so many projects I can support, and I’d need to get the help of a lot of colleagues for anything to pass.  I can’t put in all that work for everything, so I have to use it on big projects.  If you want my help, you’re going to have to come back with a bigger budget.  More like 100 million.”

I keep this in mind whenever I see anyone speak from Washington.  They come from us, saying they want to help us.  Then, speeches slowly become less about solving problems and more about taking stands—less about voters, and more about reelection.  I get they want to keep their jobs—who doesn’t– but isn’t the way to do that to do your job, where reelection is a byproduct of service?

In this case, the popularity of the bill defied the odds, and the legislation to make a scholarship book passed.  But the money to fund it required passage of a different bill.  That never happened.

I went to Washington to support an answer to a problem that was practical, affordable, and made sense. Implementing it would have slowed down the process.  Like a half inch of snow.

Oh Washington.

Post Hoc

I feel it in my gut
But voters need
Data
Hearings
Legislation.
Tell them I just think so
And I’m a public interest lobbyist.

Better yet.

Scare them
Get them angry at not me
Belittle the other side 
Tell them I introduced a bill they love
Without saying
It didn’t pass?
All meant to occupy their time
So I can bide mine
En route to reelection.

Citizens
Hearken
Thought and reflection
Are democracy’s staples
And elixirs.

Like what you see? Subscribe for free!