Dear Mr. President,
So here we are, day 100.
As my family members, old teachers, and OSU classmates have
commented on my Facebook pictures over the last four months, “What a time to be in
D.C.”
While I can’t say that you and I share too many things in common,
we did share an experience: our first 100 days as D.C. outsiders. Being the college
student who grew up in a rural community and never lived outside of Ohio, and the business mogul who occasionally fired people on reality TV, the world of
policy and politics that life inside the Beltway encompasses doesn’t exactly
fit us.
Nonetheless, here we are.
My first 100 days in D.C. haven’t always been easy. I’ve
jumped back on the red line going exactly where I came from instead of
transferring to the silver. I let my alarm go off a few too many times and
became that girl running through morning traffic in my heels to get to work on
time. I printed 120 copies instead of 12. I shared a one-room apartment with
three roommates where hot water was never promised and getting ready at the
same time was an F5 tornado. I also caught the flu for a week because Karma found
out I called the flu shot overrated.
I think we both came into our new city and new positions
with high expectations. We assumed people would hold the door open and the
pieces would fall in place, but as it turns out, our ideas aren’t as easy in practice. Promises you make on a campaign trail don’t always translate
into real change and idealist views of government from the classroom are spoiled
by partisanship, ignorance, and money. I came to D.C to gain experience and
discover what I wanted to pursue for the rest of my life, and because of the experience,
the latter is a work in progress. We’ve had some rude awakenings in this city,
but that’s part of being new. You have to struggle to learn, and you have to
learn to prevail.
I had my rough moments as the new intern on the block, but
with each set back I recovered, adapted, and didn’t make the same mistake the
next time. I began to learn the city and its people until D.C. felt like the
small town that it really is. In the meantime, I almost won a Smithsonian
scavenger hunt, I picnicked on the Mall, I participated in protests on the
steps of the Capitol and saw filibusters inside of it, I spoke to politicians
and military leaders, I was booed at a Caps game for repping the Jackets, I heard
about the careers of judges, journalists, and a man named Joe who I networked
with on the metro, I kayaked down the Potomac, I brunched, then brunched, and
then brunched again, I laid down at Renwick to look at a masterpiece, I saw the
cherry blossoms emerge, I went on runs to the Lincoln Memorial, I watched sunsets
at the Washington Monument, I marched for women, I drank caffeine, a lot of caffeine,
actually, and I even visited your house, Mr. President. When in D.C., am I right?
This journey happened all while living a block away from the
place of your inauguration, when you began your 100 days. Thus far, your presidency has showed me the
potential of civic engagement, the importance of credible institutions, the complexity
of bipartisanship, and the strength of taking your frustration of current affairs and
turning it into motivation. The world doesn’t stop moving and neither can we.
So day 100. I have two weeks left in this city where I found a home. I plan to make the most of this time as the once outsider turn pro
D.C. intern, alongside life-long, one bedroom apartment friends, surrounded by
sites that continuously take my breath away. This experience has exposed me to the
possibilities that lie in front of me, and Mr. President, you have been part of
that. While my time is coming to end for now, the experience we shared has been incredible, terrifying, relentless, and
all of the above, but I’ll be back…
as a real Washingtonian.
See you soon,
Sara Trenor
