Of Houses and “Hillterns”
By: Natalie Adams-Menendez
Forty-eight hours into the beginning of my summer internship, I am standing in the Capitol, warmly greeting Members of Congress as they walk through the doors of the House Ways and Means Committee conference room for a lunch event hosted by my office. Masked, but beaming, I invite each Member inside and chat with them briefly as they peruse food selections. Calm and collected on the outside, nervously overanalyzing my actions on the inside, I make my rounds welcoming Members and their staff to our first in-person event since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. Two hours later, the lunch has ended; however, the adrenaline from our first in-person event carries through the following weeks, becoming a whirlwind of action. Four hours later, I am assisting the Operations Team with its office reopening preparations. Three days later, I am assigned to projects spanning from research, to public relations, to Member office management. A week later, I am building connections between my office and critical advocacy groups. Finally, tonight I prepare for the adventures tomorrow brings: the third week of my internship with the House Democratic Caucus, the launch of a new congressional outreach project, and the official beginning of 2021’s hybrid summer “Hillternship” season.
Going into this experience, I was unsure what opportunities I could create for myself and my communities. As someone who grew up in Kansas as both a Latina and a member of the LGBTQ community, I had repeatedly been advised that I needed to hide at least one aspect of my intersectional identity to be successful in my career. In particular, one high school mentor told me that I could not be my authentic self and pursue my passions for human rights and political work. While I have deconstructed this mentality within my own self-perception (shoutout to Representative Sharice Davids for proving to my younger self that it is possible to simultaneously be a woman of color, a member of the LGBTQ community, and a successful politician), I entered my summer internship aware that much of the United States remains prejudiced against and hateful towards my identities. Less than three weeks ago, including the moment before I walked through the front door of my congressional office, I was uncertain what opportunities I would be afforded as someone who holds intersecting identities as well as what work, if any, I could pursue to represent and advocate for my communities.
Now that I am three weeks into my internship, I am relieved and excited to say that I have not only been accepted and welcomed within my congressional office but I have been encouraged to propose and pursue projects that are important for my communities. From developing connections with civil rights organizations to attending congressional hearings about issues that disproportionately affect people from my backgrounds, I have been provided the opportunity to thrive as my authentic self and create space at the congressional table for the needs of my communities. I am therefore thrilled to wholeheartedly and passionately embrace my internship, my office, and the Victory Institute’s work.
Reflecting on my own apprehension at the commencement of my internship and adding to the outpouring of support I have received so far, I want to emphasize a truth that we as VCI interns must always hold to be self-evident: our identities, our voices, and our perspectives are essential. We hold knowledge that is central to the liberation of LGBTQ folks, of Latinx folks, of individuals with intersectional identities. Although the “system” and foundations of Congress were quite literally never meant to house or represent us, we belong in both this physical and metaphorical space. This is our House, and we will not only rebound through our resilience but thrive.
Learning the System
by: Izzie Karohl
The first time I arrived in DC, one of just three Victory Congressional Interns to be completing a hybrid internship placement this summer, I stared up at the 102ft tall escalator and felt as though I was entering the Hunger Games. Downtown DC intimidated me too. Tall, uniformly limestone buildings lined every street in the federal triangle, bearing weighty inscriptions.
When I was walking to work one morning, a series of quotes on the Justice Department’s enormous facade caught my eye: “No free government can survive that is not based on the supremacy of the law,” “Where law ends, tyranny begins,” and “Law alone can give us freedom.”
I stopped walking. Did I read that right? “Law alone can give us freedom.” The idea that the law alone can give us freedom felt too simple to be true. I typed the quote into my phone, glancing up and down to make sure I didn’t collide with other pedestrians. Google delivered its origins: T. Hartley Alexander, American philosopher, 1934.
Yes, the law can make people more free, but it never does so alone. Our freedom depends on the integrity of those creating legislation and those enforcing it. Freedom depends on whom our society deems worthy of freedom: the United States has never inclusively defined the “us” in practice.
Flashing my badge at security and sending my backpack through the scanner, I continued to think of all the ways our laws have restricted or abridged the rights of its people. How racist and homophobic laws denied Black Americans the right to vote, same-sex couples the right to marry, and Native peoples’ the right to their land, culture, and customs.
The law can be an instrument of freedom but also one of oppression. The law is what we — its creators, its abiders, its disobeyers, its enforcers — make of it. The Victory Congressional Internship is an incredible opportunity to witness that first potential for others’ freedom.
Passing legislation has been such a mystery to me. This is likely because the entirety of what I know comes from School House Rock’s “I’m just a Bill” (great song by the way). My supervisors in Rep. Wasserman Schultz’s office have been so kind in explaining tactics I didn’t know existed, such as how voting to recommit a bill to its respective committee is a common stalling tactic.
All the jargon and formalities seem to complicate the legislative process; it feels counterintuitive to use archaic systems to give birth to new freedoms. On the other hand, it’s comforting to know that there are laws that have been created and passed which, on the whole, improved the lives of my neighbors, my friends, and my fellow citizens. In my role as a Congressional Intern, I can hopefully contribute in some small way to this cause. By doing thorough research about a policy’s potential impact or encouraging co-sponsorship on effective bills, I hope to ensure that policy really translates into economic and social freedom for those who have long been denied equal rights.
I can do this work because others have fought for LGBTQ+ young people like me to be in these spaces. I owe it to them, to Victory Institute, and to my amazing cohort of fellow interns to keep up the trend. By being here, we can come together in solidarity and fight for laws that free, rather than oppress, us all.
