Friday Night. Woo.
I'm posting at 2:07am to report something amazing: I've finished my Property reading. I decided this evening that I couldn't go to sleep until I finished all of our next, massive, assignment. Now, fifty casebook pages and five supplemental readings later, I'm done. Most of the reading was on gated communities and zoning laws, both of which are surprisingly interesting topics. The last reading, however, which was on the Bush Administration's energy and air pollution policies was just depressing.
The article got me thinking about the job I used to have and some of my worst days there. Days when I would leave the Hill feeling worn out and disappointed in a way that I'd never felt prior to taking the job and have only felt once since. I've been reading a quality South Dakota politics blog for the past few weeks called Clean Cut Kid and it's author, Seth, said something in one of his posts today that has been rolling around in my head for the past few hours. He wrote this about his job working with abused and neglected children and their familes:
Now, I'm not saying what I did at my job compared to working with abused and neglected children (I'm pretty sure that's a job I lack the strength to do), but what he wrote is a pretty accurate description of some of the feelings I had at work. A significant part of my days were spent talking and meeting with constituents and from them I learned of experiences that were simply outside of the realm of what I imagined humanity to be. And yet, I continued to be surprised each time I learned that humanity was a little less than what I'd imagined before.
I haven't thought about that feeling in a while (I usually choose to remember the good days and the people who were examples of the stunning potential at the other end of humanity's spectrum) and I'm actually going to stop writing about it now; I'm too tired to not get all weepy. I promise I'll write about something happy tomorrow.
The article got me thinking about the job I used to have and some of my worst days there. Days when I would leave the Hill feeling worn out and disappointed in a way that I'd never felt prior to taking the job and have only felt once since. I've been reading a quality South Dakota politics blog for the past few weeks called Clean Cut Kid and it's author, Seth, said something in one of his posts today that has been rolling around in my head for the past few hours. He wrote this about his job working with abused and neglected children and their familes:
On the best days, it’s the most rewarding thing I could ever imagine. On most days, it’s depressing. At the end of the worst days, I feel less human.
Now, I'm not saying what I did at my job compared to working with abused and neglected children (I'm pretty sure that's a job I lack the strength to do), but what he wrote is a pretty accurate description of some of the feelings I had at work. A significant part of my days were spent talking and meeting with constituents and from them I learned of experiences that were simply outside of the realm of what I imagined humanity to be. And yet, I continued to be surprised each time I learned that humanity was a little less than what I'd imagined before.
I haven't thought about that feeling in a while (I usually choose to remember the good days and the people who were examples of the stunning potential at the other end of humanity's spectrum) and I'm actually going to stop writing about it now; I'm too tired to not get all weepy. I promise I'll write about something happy tomorrow.
| Permalink | E-mail this post 
