I was a congressional intern

First of all, my name is not Monica. It's Melody. Second, she interned at the White House -- I interned in a congressional office on Capitol Hill that did not require kneepads. Most importantly though, interning in Washington, D.C., will be remembered as one of the greatest experiences of my life -- one that contributed to my belief that there are good people in government.

Somewhat surprisingly, I was initially reluctant to apply for the Leon & Sylvia Panetta Internship for fall 2000 because I was afraid it would extend my graduation date and be a serious hassle with my financial-aid status. However, my soul mate in disguise relentlessly persuaded me to apply. Three months later, I found myself at CSU Monterey for the two-week training period led by Leon Panetta himself, former White House chief of staff during Clinton's first term of office. I learned more about government structure and policy in those two weeks than I have sometimes learned in semester. Panetta would joke that we knew more about the budget process than the average congressman did.

The two-week training period was remarkable. There was one student from each CSU chosen for the program, so I met interns from all over the state. Panetta brought in speakers who had worked with him to discuss their careers with us. I met Jackie Calmes from The Wall Street Journal, and Les Francis, deputy chief of staff in the Carter administration. As CSU students, who are sometimes made to feel low on the academic totem pole, we felt pretty prestigious. We were also able to attend an international-trade forum with U.S. Trade Representative Charlene Barchevsky. I felt like I was back in Humboldt when protesters greeted us at the door with signs and puppets.

On Oct. 1, 2000, we boarded a plane for Dulles International Airport. We would all be staying together in long-term hotel suites in Alexandria, Va. The hotel room was nicer than any apartment or dorm I had ever lived in. Each morning we would take the 40-minute metro ride to the South Capital exit and disperse to one of three congressional office buildings: Cannon, Longworth, or Rayburn. I worked in Rayburn for Rep. Nancy Pelosi (D), 8th District of San Francisco.

Congressional intern by summer and HSU political science student by fall and spring, Melody Wendorf stands tall in front of the United States Archives. photo courtesy of Melody Wendorf

The first thing I noticed about the Capitol is the incredible amount of Capitol Police positioned at every hallway, especially by the doors leading to the floor of the House of Representatives. Technically, only members and their regular staff are allowed on the floor. However, we met the House Parliamentarian during one of our seminars, and he took us on to the House floor. I marveled at how the men and women who sat in these seats everyday could shape our lives with as little effort as sliding their ID card into the electronic vote counter and pressing either the "yes" or "no" button.

The Capitol, and really most of Washington, is rich with tradition and beautiful architecture. I was amazed at the wall-sized paintings and the statues that abounded in the hallways of the Capitol. Each state sends two statues representing great historical figures from that state to be displayed in the Capitol. California sent Father Junipero Serra and David Star King. I still don't know anything about the latter. We walked to the center of the Capitol, which is also the direct center of Washington, and rubbed our feet for luck on the marble circle (all ready grooved by many feet), delineating its importance.

The "LA," which is the lingo for legislative assistant, took us past both Democratic Minority Whip David Bonior's and House Minority Leader Richard Gephardt's office. He also sneaked us into the pressroom. I say sneaked because interns weren't supposed to be in there. That day the LA told us one of the most important lessons I would learn there: If you want to go somewhere that has barriers, "walk confidently and pretend like you belong." I had heard something to this effect before, but its meaning crystallized in D.C., Don and I learned that sometimes tucking our intern identification tags into our shirts and walking briskly got us past police checkpoints faster. However, so that the reader doesn't think I'm helping future criminals, you always have to go through metal detectors and/or show identification to get into any of the buildings.

When people ask me what I did there, I almost always say, "whatever they wanted me to." Basically, I was responsible for a multitude of grunt work. My days involved data entry, deliveries and dear-colleague-letter signature gathering, copying, filing, cutting selected news paper articles, or even sitting in a hallway waiting for the new conference room sign up sheet so I could be the first to schedule an important meeting. Some days could be slow and boring, other days I was there until 8 p.m. trying to finish a project. I hole-punched more documents in three months than I ever had in my whole life. The congresswoman was also running for majority whip, if the Democrats regained a majority in the House. This meant preparing binders for the steering committee. I would spend hours copying, stapling, hole punching, labeling, re-copying when updated information came, and placing packets in binders. The phone was practically attached to my ear some days. Staff and interns dreamed about the day after the election, because binder work and double-check calls wouldn't resurface for another year at least.

On election night we were at the office until 1:30 a.m. watching the computer screens change as new precincts reported the election results. We went through the ecstasy and agony as Florida went from Al Gore to George Bush. California did get five new Democratic representatives, and that knowledge helped our shoulders not hang so low.

Rep Nancy Pelosi (second from right) and interns (from left) Don Brewster, Yasmin Yelez and Melody Wendorf pose in front of the Capitol Building in Washington D.C. photo courtesy of Melody Wendorf

My experience was not all a grind though. I actually felt good that I was helping to alleviate some of the pressure on the other staff. I enjoyed walking the halls for signatures and meeting other interns and staff. I was even able to research material for a special order, which is when a representative

I will never forget the first time I watched a vote on the Senate side. Don knew almost every senator's name. We were political geeks in heaven, exclaiming when we saw senators such as John McCain, Ted Kennedy, and Tom Daschle. I had heard all the jokes about Strom Thurmond, and there he was -- this seemingly feeble man calling out his vote. On the weekends, I loved walking on the Capitol mall, perusing the Smithsonian, and feeling in awe every time I saw the Washington Monument. Toward the end of the internship, Nancy Pelosi took all of us interns to breakfast and took a picture with us on the Capitol steps. Some interns barely spoke with their representative.

One of the greatest aspects of the internship program was Panetta set up seminars each week with contacts he had from being a congressman, working for the Office of Management and Budget, and as chief of staff. Some of the people we met were Secretary of Agriculture Dan Glickman, Secretary of Commerce Norm Manetta, and Secretary of Health and Human Services Donna Shalala. Each was memorable. Glickman told how during his congressional freshman orientation he sat between Richard Gephardt and Gore. Manetta, Japanese-American, told the story of how he and Panetta, an Italian-American, used to represent neighboring districts, and how they had a softball team called the Sign of the Rising Pizza.

Shalala, a former college professor, invited us to "take her on" when we were discussing labeling foods that have been genetically modified. We spoke with her for more than 40 minutes. It is almost unheard of for a cabinet member to allot that much time for a bunch of interns, but that was part of the benefit of being a Panetta intern (as we called ourselves with pride).

The last seminar was a tour of the West Wing. We met in the Roosevelt room with John Podesta, the chief of staff for President Clinton. In that room there are portraits of Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt. The tradition is that when a Democrat is in office, FDR goes above the mantle, and Theodore goes on the wall. However, said the guide with a mischievous smile, Clinton chose to keep Teddy above the mantle, as he liked both presidents, and as a show of bi-partisanship. Podesta told us a crazy story about the incredibly tumultuous moments before Yitzhak Rabin and Yassar Arafat signed the peace accords on television during the first term. Peeking in the door of the Oval Office was surreal, especially when we saw Attorney General Janet Reno in the hallway. The office was smaller than I had expected, but the history and power of the place was almost tangible.

When we first walked into the West Wing, a Marine Corps officer was at the door signaling that President Clinton was present. Unfortunately, he remained in the Oval Office and then left while we were in the other room. We narrowly missed meeting him, as we left a few minutes before he returned. Every time the door opened during our meeting, each and every student was tingling with hope that we would meet the president. Politics aside, how many people actually get to meet the president of the United States? Clinton told Panetta later that evening that he would take a picture with us if his schedule permitted. But then he had to go to Ireland, so no picture. All of the interns agreed that our picture was vastly more important than foreign policy. Well, it was to us that particular week, anyway.

The feeling among the interns about going home was mixed. As much as I liked D.C., it showed me how much I love California. I was ready to get back to the books, the redwoods, and my upcoming graduation. Really, I was itching to go home and tell all the stories I had heard and of my own adventures. Everyone assumed I would come back feeling worse about our government, but I actually felt better. Sure, there is the massive bureaucracy and the pettiness. But there are also people who come together for a common goal. I worked with people who were incredibly passionate about their work and had a sincere desire to help people. I did meet some bitter and slimy individuals. But they only proved to me that those that I thought were sincere were actually real, and not just performing an excellent snow job. An idealist can hope, right?