OUT ON THE HILL is the official blog of the Victory Congressional Interns. Views expressed do not necessarily reflect those of LGBTQ+ Victory Institute. Learn more about the internship at victoryinstitute.org/vci.
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Prior to being accepted as a Victory Congressional Intern, my dream of working on the Hill was just that, a dream. Being a first-generation American, I did not think this opportunity would ever present itself, and I would have to live vicariously through stories and YouTube videos. Yet, I decided to take a risk and apply to the program. The process of becoming a Victory Intern was incredibly challenging. I practically had every individual in my personal life read through my essays, met with career staff at my school to rehearse interview responses, and received support from faculty and staff at Bennington.
Now this dream of being in Washington DC carries an entirely new meaning for me. It is the physical manifestation of labor and hard work. Not just my own, but also the work of my parents who sacrificed everything so that I could be granted the opportunities that got me here. I would not have been able to get into the program had it not been for the love and care people had for me in San Antonio and Bennington College. As I arrived in Washington DC and made my way through Reagan Airport, I couldn’t help but think of the worst possible case scenarios that could unfold during my time as a congressional intern. I was terrified about these sacrifices going to waste. All of the hypotheticals I created for myself centered around the fear of making mistakes.
All of these fears were compiling and brewing before my first day. Walking through the long and winding halls of the Longworth Office Building was disorienting. The ornate finishings and marble floors set the scene for what would become the most formative two weeks of my young adult life thus far.
It turns out that my worst fears did come true— I made mistakes. Being on the Hill has challenged me in ways I didn’t think were possible in this regard. It has forced me to better understand my relationship with failure and develop endurance in spite of it. I was fortunate enough to be placed with an office that views these errors as a potential catalyst for learning. Working in an environment that encourages error and learning from it is a difficult adjustment, but needed for my development as a person. It has provided me with the resource of a soft landing when mistakes are inevitably made and building up the resilience needed to overcome challenges.
Within my office, I have also found a community of people who are incredibly passionate, brave, and driven. The type of energy that makes you want to do better and guts that only exists within true community organizers. I came to the Hill, worried that my experiences within political settings were not going to be enough because I have only ever done hyper-local work. Such as gun violence prevention protests, local voter registration drives, and Congressional town halls. As a Latino, I am also constantly aware of my identity. Constantly aware of how I am perceived. Afraid that I did not belong on the Hill, I felt as if I was walking through the city wearing a costume, and other people could tell. A marginalized identity is not an easy thing to carry in mundane settings, much less in the halls of Congress.
Yet, my office placement is proof that underrepresented people belong in these institutions. There is power in working with people who genuinely care about those they are serving, and I have the privilege of being able to learn the art of public service from some of the most talented people I have ever met. My office is filled with people who were once in my shoes. There is beauty in these small pockets of community one can find on the Hill.
