Living in rural America, when I think of rush hour, I think of bumper-to-bumper traffic. But in D.C., rush hour means shoulder-to-shoulder traffic, butt-to-butt traffic, chest-to-arm, back-to-face, you name it, its touching -- and its uncomfortable. At 5 p.m. on Friday, there was a delay on the red line. Arriving on the platform for the train toward Glenmont after work, I met with hundreds of tired, sweaty, well-dressed people. The wait for the next train was five minutes. Not bad. I took to the edge of the platform, silently stared at my cell phone and waited. Five minutes later, the train was in front of me, bursting with people hanging off the metal bars bolted to the ceiling of the car. There was no way I was getting on, so I watched as the mass on the platform surged toward the opened doors. And then I watched as a woman got her purse stuck in the closed doors. And then the train was gone.

The next train was to arrive in seven minutes. This time I wasn’t messing around and I stood right up on the edge next to where the train would stop. I had to be careful to back up a little bit when the train arrived nine minutes later. The crowd parted only just enough to let a single-file-line of people exiting the train to come through. But this was poor planning, and by the time the last person had exited, the doors were closing. And the doors are merciless -- if your purse, hair, coat, or fingers are in there, they are staying in there. I kept my balance as the train raced away, and I was there again teetering over the tracks.

Three minutes until the next train.

And you could feel the angst in the crowd. At this point, we all knew where the doors would open, and we all knew who was going to be the first one to start throwing elbows. The train lights came into sight, and the girl next to me threw up her arms in mock excitement, releasing her iPhone from her hands. I heard its sickening crack as it hit the cement by the tracks below. I lost sight of it almost immediately as the train rolled over. As soon as the doors opened, people were pushing in. Forget the ‘elevator rule’; it’s time to go home. I made it in following an all-business woman who immediately started hollering for people to “push the heck in” upon entering the train. The intensity and ferocity of the people on the platform was startling to the people already seated on the train. I found a spot, stood my ground, and finally rolled into NOMA station, and onto the weekend.

The weather this weekend was beautiful -- blue skies, warm breezes, and sunny afternoons. On Saturday, a friend and I took the Circulator to Georgetown and walked to Jack’s Boathouse. We both rented kayaks and glided out into the Potomac. It was great to be on the water on such a lovely day. We paddled around Theodore Roosevelt Island, taking in the city-lined shores, the Washington Monument fixed in the distance, and the fresh air.

Sunday afternoon, a group of Washington Center friends and I headed over to Eastern Market. Eastern Market is Washington D.C.’s oldest continually operated public market. We spent the day sampling fresh fruit, browsing old jewelry boxes, and getting lost in the most packed bookstore I’ve ever seen.

I was excited for the weekend because it had been such a demanding week. At my internship, we have been busily preparing for our event at the National Archives. However, one of the more exciting things that I did was last Wednesday afternoon up on Capitol Hill. Every student at the Washington Center is required to participate in a civic engagement project during our semester in D.C. You may create your own project, or you may participate in a civic engagement project organized by TWC. The TWC projects include topics of immigration, local green, homelessness, animal welfare, and other relevant current-event matters in the city. 

I jumped in on the Washington Center’s ‘domestic violence’ topic team. This endeavor has brought  me together with about 40 other young women and men to advocate for the reauthorization of some important legislation that offers services and funding to victims of sexual assault, dating violence, and stalking. The Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) has been in place since 1994 and is due for reauthorization (when Congress reviews and either renews, terminates, or amends the existing legislation, it happens every 5 years) this year. Currently, there are two different versions of VAWA, one in the Senate and one in the House. The Democratically-sponsored Senate version favors expansion to services, especially for illegal immigrants and LGBT individuals. I think that the VAWA is incredibly important, and it is essential that the bill protects everyone, not just heterosexual United States citizens… Any and every victim deserves to be treated fairly, kindly, and with the support they need. 

My passion, and the passion of my peers to make the VAWA’s reauthorization a reality, brought us to the office of Massachusetts State Representative James McGovern. Every student in the civic engagement group for domestic violence was to visit as many members of Congress as would meet with us about VAWA. Most people ended talking to the aide of their Representative or Senator. But lucky for me and my group members, we met directly with Congressman McGovern. Rep. McGovern is not currently my Representative, but his district is expanding, and the small town of Hadley, Massachusetts is soon to be within it. He -incredibly supportive of the Senate’s bill and recognized where the House bill needed more attention. Because Mr. McGovern was already voting the way that we’d hoped, we thanked him and encouraged him to continue his support. It was a great experience to be able to meet with my soon-to-be Representative about a topic I was passionate about. And he even said he’d like a farm tour sometime!