Inside the Capitol, concern extends beyond the Beltway

The grand rotunda in the U.S. Capitol building is filled with contradictions. Each day, tourists armed with cameras and backpacks full of miniature Washington monuments stand in awe of the majesty of the room, thrilled at the connection between themselves and great lawmakers of the past. Yet the tourists seem cynically disinterested in what happens to the left and right of the rotunda in the daily maneuverings of Congress. They have a sincere reverence for the past and a hopeless distrust of those who lead us in the present. They have heard stories of Beltway sex scandals and campaign fraud and have come to believe that a great divide exists between them and those who represent them. Standing in the rotunda, remembering America's past, they seem even more convinced that the present is a disappointment.

I wish that the tourists, mostly middle-of-the-road, middle-class Americans, could see what I saw every day that I went to work as a summer intern on Capitol Hill. I wish they knew how politics works behind the scenes, that what they see in Newsweek isn't the last word. For every needless filibuster or disastrous appearance of partisanship, someone here is interested in representing his or her constituents. It would be easy to forget their representatives, to go on believing that politics is synonymous with corruption. It would be easy, but it would not be true.

The whole truth includes the congressman I worked for, a man drawn into politics because he didn't feel his congressman was listening to voters. He stands firm on issues that are important to him, and he knows which issues are important to his constituents. I watched him at picnics and on street corners, his face lighting up each time a constituent approached him. I could see it in his eyes; this was what he got into politics for — to help people. He hated talking about reelection, insisting he was in Washington not to ensure his return to office but to make things better for the people of his district. He is an honorable politician, the kind the rotunda tourists, and much of America, seem not to believe in anymore — in the same way they have discarded their belief in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. One cannot believe in what is not real. But the truth is honorable politicians are very real. Perhaps they are not as prevalent as they used to be, but they exist and work hard every day to better the lives of all Americans.

The tourists would be surprised by the influence exerted by regular people like themselves. The prevailing view in this country, one that accompanies skepticism about government in general, is that business and interest groups control politics. There may be some truth to this notion, but the American voter still has a great deal of pull. Every day my duties as an intern required me to open hundreds of letters from people in the congressman's district. Each letter was read and answered. Americans should not believe that such letters are ignored, that angry phone calls and concerned missives are swept into the garbage so that congressmen can listen attentively to the views of D.C. lobbyists. Everyone in the Capitol knows who he or she is meant to serve and does not forget.

The final stop on the tour of the Capitol is the House chamber. Here, if the tourists are lucky, they can watch debate on an appropriations bill or a resolution enforcing religious liberty. It is thrilling to watch laws being made before your very eyes. I got goosebumps just sitting in the chamber and hearing the words "point of order" and "the gentlelady from California." Every tourist should see this, every American. They should sit in the chamber, away from the C-SPAN glow that emits waves of boredom and disconnection, and listen to the 435 people from every walk of life who fight for them in this truly representative house. Then maybe they would see what I saw and begin to feel what I felt as I wandered Congress' halls, Capitol I.D. badge swinging from my neck. Maybe they would begin to feel less disconnected and more represented.

A certain amount of good-old-days syndrome is inherent in the cynical view of government; the past must have been better. Maybe, but the present isn't so bad. Each day I went to work as an intern, I became increasingly convinced that Ame-rica's political story has more to it than just corruption and disillusionment. Perhaps if the tourists could look inside the Capitol building at the men and women who are Congress, they and their fellow Americans would become convinced, as I have, that ours is a country whose future is as bright as its illustrious past. Katherine Reilly is from Short Hills, NJ. She can be reached at kcreilly@princeton.edu.