Chapter 8: Children Are The Future (Interns)
One of the things I loved about being a congressman was working with the fine children of my district. If I had to pick just one day that stood out, it would be the morning I visited Ms. Carltonâs third grade class in
Modesto, California. I was there to give a lecture on public service, and I can still remember little Becky Simmons sitting in the first row, full of enthusiasm and hope â two ingredients so desperately needed in Washington.
âCongwessman Condit,â she lisped in an adorable fashion. âDo I have to be a grownup before I can make a difference?â
âThatâs a great question, Becky! Did everybody hear that?" I asked the class. "Well, Becky, not at all. One great way to start is to be an intern in one or our nationâs many departments. And you can do that when youâre just a bit older.â
âBut what does an intern do, Congressman Condit?â
âPretty much anything you ask,â I laughed.
But Becky didnât get it so I knelt down in front of her little desk, filling her wide-eyed innocence with the truth: âInterns are a valuable part of the governmental process. Young minds doing the work of democracy.â
âThat sounds GWEAT,â Becky replied.
âIt is. Seriously, these chicks are crazy desperate for letters of recommendation.â
Afterword: If I Could Speak To Chandraâs Killer
On many sorrow-filled nights, I have yearned to speak to Chandra's murderer face to face. I'm not sure I ever will, but if I did, I imagine I would say something like this: