Capitol Hill Rats

Flywheel Assignment 2: Analogy

Kevin Lamarque/Reuters

Among the lingo or “beltway buzzwords” on Capitol Hill, the term “hill rat” to describe a Congressional staffer has been one that I have both appreciated and despised.  It is not a mystery that Congress in general is not viewed upon positively, especially with an approval rating at an all time low of 9% (Nov. 2013).  From scandals, misuse or overuse of taxpayer dollars, lack of ability to compromise, to just inappropriate behavior…the negative perception held by many of those on Capitol Hill is not incomprehensible.  Even this week a Congressman threatened a reporter he’d throw him over a balcony for asking him a difficult question.  Yeesh!

With all of this, should we be surprised that one who works on Capitol Hill is referred to as a “rat?” Rats are rodents, scavengers who scurry around living in hidden underground burrows.  They are nocturnal creatures that carry disease and held responsible for the spread of some of the most deadly diseases like the bubonic plague.  They devour crops and considered one of the world’s most invasive species. In the U.S. they destroy a billion dollars of property each year not including fires from chewed electrical wires.  Entire cities have waged eradication campaigns to get rid of them. I guess some of these characteristics could be true especially after navigating the underground tunnels under the U.S. Capitol.  Congressional staffers do scurry, always quickly running around and definitely nocturnal working late into the night.  And of course, Congress is seen by many as scavengers who suck the hard working American tax dollar at every turn. 

When I began working on Capitol Hill around 7 years ago, I truly loathed it.  I never set out to work there but at the time my new husband felt drawn to Washington and I followed.  I have done just about everything during my time here from sorting mail, helping write legislation and speeches to filling water glasses at events.  Overtime, however, I have seen a different side of being a “hill rat” and one that I wish most Americans would appreciate.  These many so-called “rats” are passionate about issues that matter.  They work long hours working to accomplish something that will make a difference in the lives of people in our country and abroad.

Our elected officials and the people who work for them do indeed represent us as citizens. There are good actors vs. bad actors; strong egos vs. intense insecurity, controlling OCD behavior vs. a laid back blasé attitude, full of passion vs. full of ambition, men and women of strong integrity and character vs. men and women only out for their own gain.  Yet we place more responsibility upon them because we’ve elected them to be leaders and to make decisions based on conviction and character for the best of the country. And that responsibility is rightly given.

Aside from the scandals and unsavory characters, a real problem in Congress that only seems to get worse is the inability to work together and find compromise.   I had one friend who worked for a Member that was a complete opposite to mine on almost any issue.  We became friends just because we were both new parents to little boys and had a lot to talk about.  We finally decided we would try and find one thing our bosses could agree on.  We were excited to find a worthy cause that both members already felt strongly about and we quickly began coming up with ideas of things we could do.  Surprisingly, we ended up writing letters, attending meetings, and writing legislation that eventually passed! It was an unlikely alliance but our friendship we believed accomplished something of significance.

 

It is not an abnormal thing to struggle to find common ground with those who holds completely opposite ideals and priorities of our own.  It is difficult but it is imperative that we learn to do it.  We must see each other as worthy partners when we are placed together to accomplish a common goal, even if that worth is not merited.  Dr. Ted George, a psychiatrist at NIH, wrote about the conflict behind the government shutdown last fall.  He wrote, “Conflict means that differences exist, and it needs to be addressed rather than avoided. In the ideal world, governing bodies as well as individuals respect and appreciate each other’s strong points and incorporate them into a solution that is best for all.”

The comparison of a rat to a congressional staffer is obviously not far from the truth but I’ve learned recently it is not always bad either.  Rats are known to adapt well to their environments and sometimes described as having “super sonic speed.” More importantly, we know that rats live well together in colonies.  A zoologist S.A. Barnett, made the observation that the rat colony is a peaceful place with very little infighting. Now that’s one characteristic Congress could learn from.  

The Farm

I'm thrilled to be part of a new writing group - The Flywheel Society.  This is my first assignment...a memory from childhood.

“Grandchildren are the crown of old men...” Prov. 17:6

Some of my richest childhood memories were at my grandparents’ farm in Kansas.   My heart would start to beat faster and faster as the station wagon would make its way up the dirt driveway.  I could see the house from the back seat and quickly jump out as soon as the car stopped.   Running in the house, I would usually be greeted by my Grandma Letha who would usually say something about my need to wash or brush my hair as she embraced me. 

My Grandpa would come soon after and my moments with him would be impressed upon me for much longer than I’m sure he ever thought.  Although I know the house doesn’t make the home, I truly loved the house.  As you walked in, it was hard to miss the large cow horns hung on the entryway that often held his cowboy hat.  The kitchen was narrow and a staircase ran right behind it leading into the basement.  The basement was always intriguing with a pool table and jukebox, where my older cousins played pool and listened to Air Supply.  However, we mostly gravitated to the "den" with wood paneling, the TV, and a weird shag carpet tapestry on the wall.  There were three fridges in the house…one in the kitchen full of our favorites; one in the basement full of Coke and Pepsi; and a deep freezer on the enclosed patio packed of ice cream and popsicles.  

There was enough space and intrigue of the house and the farm to keep us occupied for days but the characters of my grandparents along with the addition of lots of cousins were the real attraction.  I learned at some point in my adolescence that my grandfather was not my biological grandfather, which was no matter to me.  I knew that my mother’s biological father had died long before I was born and I was very familiar with his family.  I guess it never occurred to me as strange that he held any different sort of position or connection to us.  It almost made me appreciate his affections even more to know that he was not biologically my grandfather yet looked at me as his own.

I knew very early on and very clearly that he loved me.  He would take me out to his fields of cattle and tell me if we could catch a cow I could ride one.  He would hoist me up and come close to sitting me on the back of a cow until it ran skittishly away.  He planted watermelon seeds with me in the summer and meticulously made ‘people’ out of dollar bills for Christmas.  I will never forget him and my grandmother driving all the way to our little town to see me in a ballet recital.  I was an angel that year and my only part was to run across the stage.  I was sitting on his lap when my Grandmother said “Did we really come all this way to just watch her run across the stage?” We all laughed and he looked at me and said, “yes.” 

He wasn’t a perfect man but to me he was tall and broad and I adored him. I was a teenager when he was diagnosed with cancer.  In the weeks before his death, I sat on the living room couch holding his frail hand looking out the window.  I noticed just how frail and skinny they had become and my heart became full of the memories I had with him and the gratefulness I had for his profound love for me throughout my childhood.

As a parent now, I long for our children to know the love that we have for them and that their family loves them.  Not a fluffy kind of love but a deep unconditional rich love.  My hope is they will know real love that comes from above and it will shape them as they go out into the world.  I was considerably fortunate as a child to know and experience love by my immediate and extended family. Although I will probably not ever fully know how that one truth effected me as an adult, I do know that it shaped my perspective of myself, my worth, and the world around me.