Examining the Pace of Washington

Ari Kirsh

When you arrive in Washington, D.C. to be an intern with Washington Academic Internship Program (WAIP), the first thing that stands out to you is the pace.

No, I am not referencing how time flies by being here. I am talking about the pace that everyone walks.

It is one of the weirdest differences about D.C. from the rest of the world that I have witnessed thus far. Everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) in our nation’s capitol walks like men and women possessed. People move so quickly that they create air currents as they pass you by. Some of these people seem like they could win a Gold Medal in Speed-Walking in the Olympics. I have lived in Cincinnati, Columbus, Jerusalem, Bat Yam, and Arad and I have never seen people walk the way that they do here.

We actually spoke about how people walk in our first Policy Analysis class with Professor Mark Gaspar. He called this phenomenon “striding”. Professor Gaspar pointed out all the different areas where striding appears here in D.C.: on the street, in office buildings, even in the television show The West Wing. Striding also plays a role when using the Metro subway system; on escalators, it is an unwritten law to stand on the right and walk on the left, on pain of public reprimand by strangers. When we asked why everyone is rushing around, Professor Gaspar gave us an answer whose theme resonates throughout our course, our program, and all of Washington in general: we are already out of time.

Washington, D.C. serves as home to the most powerful people and resources of the most powerful nation in the world. Yet even with all of that power, all of that influence and strength, there is nothing that anyone here can do to halt Father Time. Events develop and proliferate here at a breakneck speed. Responding to an email after a day is a day too late. Returning a call after a day is a day too late. The presence of all of that power puts more pressure on this city than the lowest depths of the ocean ever could. And everyone feels it, because in this city, change can occur on a dime, making reaction and adaptation to change crucial. That is why everyone is so frenetic. That is why people dash up and down the escalator on the left side. That is why everyone is already out of time. And that is why people stride.

Striding serves as a microcosm of one of the most important lessons I have learned since coming here: that time management is crucial. So much of life here in Washington, D.C. requires an intense time commitment that it is easy to forget all of the responsibilities that a person can have here. These time demands are why the slogan of my roommate Max and I has become to find the hidden minutes in the day. It is not enough to merely “manage” time; sometimes you have to search for new reservoirs of it in order to complete every task.

So if you see me walking around D.C., you will never see me saunter or stroll around. You will see me stride, because I am already out of time, and I have to find the hidden minutes in my day so that I can have more.