People who live in Washington, DC either have passions or problems. Those with passions move to Washington, DC to change the world. They work for non-profits, City Year, Americorps, Teach For America. They want to save the children! Save the environment! Save women’s rights! If you are not trying to get saved, you are trying to do the saving. They want to work they are passionate about, they make $11,000 a year, claim no interest in material things but they are happy.
Then there are those working on the problems: military, lawyers, lobbyists, Hill staffers, Congressmen and women. They are here to fix the problems of our country. Health care reform! Education reform! They all have Blackberries and security clearance and somewhere really important to be. They drive fast, walk fast, hit refresh on their e-mails every minute and have an R or a D stamped on their foreheads. Most also own khakis, some salmon colored and boat shoes are a requirement. Don’t forget to rep your college Greek system.
I feel like Washington, DC functions in its own contained bubble and a small one at that. At ten square miles and a professional destination for people from around the United States and world you are always running into your sister’s cousin’s college co-worker who is from the same town as your roommate. Washington DC is not a destination location. People don’t move here like they do New York City or Chicago—for the lights, fun and frill of the city, they move here with a purpose.
I’ve been here almost two years. At this moment- my passion is to get the hell out of here and my problem is with the city itself.