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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Magic ring. Ch2, 15dc into the ring, sl st top of 1st dc.
I’d be lying if I said that working on Capitol Hill didn’t remind me of the first time I picked up a crochet hook and read a written pattern. You’d think I was learning a third language as I memorized shortened phrases of comprehensive patterns all strung together to formulate a sentence that, when read correctly, can create a work of beautiful art. As my eyes wandered the smooth, checkered floors and modern, yet strangely historic architecture of my office building; I immediately noticed two things. One, I definitely should have navigated to my office before my first day. And two, what is going on with all of these abbreviations?
On my first day of work, I realized that abbreviations and repetition are common themes in my life. It could be because repetition is comforting. Repetition is safe. It reminds me of when I first learned to dance;
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8
Or maybe, when my mom would cornrow my hair to keep my curls from tangling while I was at school;
Right in the middle, left in the middle; right in the middle left in the mid-Ouch!
Or perhaps, when I first learned to crochet;
Ch 2, 1 dc in same st. 4trc nxt st., 2dc nxt st.; 1hdc in nxt 4 st.; [1dc, 1trc, 1dc] in the same st.
My entire life I’ve been told to push myself out of my comfort zone. “If you’re uncomfortable, you’re doing something right!” While the people pleaser inside of me always tried to appease the masses and take the leap off of the cliff of social interaction, I could never shake the feeling of butterflies in my stomach as I closed my eyes and jumped. One thing people never tell you is that dealing with social anxiety in an environment where networking and “getting coffee” (sometimes ACTUALLY getting it, but not always) is just as important as the work you do in your office is one of the most difficult situations to navigate. As I sit at my desk and stare at an uncomposed email to an adult who I’ve never had a conversation with a day in my life, that nagging feeling in the back of my mind begins to whirl to life. Nobody tells you that, despite knowing you have social anxiety, a diagnosis is the furthest thing you can be from a cure.
Now, it could be the insanely good ability of mine to put on an act (thanks….four years of high school drama club), but no amount of front desk interactions at a hotel or blended drinks made for girls in your grade who were definitely internally racist at my local coffee shop would shake the feeling of the room closing in when talking to someone who isn’t in my circle. While many might see the Kaylyn that is a confident speaker and great conversationalist, few see the Kaylyn that takes a sigh of relief and retreats back to her office with her headphones on, listening to “Off the Wall” by Michael Jackson for the fifth time that day.
I’d be lying if I said that working on Capitol Hill didn’t remind me of Maya Angelou. Of the first time my mom read me a piece of poetry. Her expressive, engaging voice enunciating the repetitive loops of the poem…
…I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
I’d be lying if I said that working on Capitol Hill didn’t remind me of the smooth, repetitive motions of crochet. Of the hook drawing loops of colorful yarn through stitches of delicate artistry, over, and over, and over…
1hdc nxt 4 st, 2dc nxt st., 4trc nxt st., dc nxt st., ch2, sl st same st
…until you have to switch yarn colors. Or change the pattern of stitches you’ve been working on for the last 46 rows. While the repetitive, familiar motions of my daily tasks working in the office ground me; every so often I’m shaken into the reality that, sometimes, discomfort is scary. Oh, how I wish that the words that came from my mouth flowed as eloquently as they did on the screen of my computer.
So,
As I make my daily commute listening to the same automated Metro voice, with the same playlist on shuffle, and ordering the same drink from Dunkin’ every morning (Small iced caramel coffee with oat milk, not cream); I’ve learned that sometimes, comfort is okay. Sometimes, repetition is good. Like a crochet hook, drawing loops of colorful yarn through stitches of delicate artistry over, and over, and over…
Fasten off, pull mr closed, weave in ends
P.S; if you crochet, you should try the pattern hidden in the blog post 🙂
