This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.nytimes.com/2016/12/16/opinion/the-humiliations-of-life-after-congress.html

The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
The Humiliations of Life After Congress The Humiliations of Life After Congress
(3 days later)
Washington — Once, I occupied a prized office in the Rayburn House Office Building, with a commanding view that stretched to the Lincoln Memorial. Now, I occupy Cubicle No. 45, with a decent view of Cubicles 44 and 46.Washington — Once, I occupied a prized office in the Rayburn House Office Building, with a commanding view that stretched to the Lincoln Memorial. Now, I occupy Cubicle No. 45, with a decent view of Cubicles 44 and 46.
I’m one of the congressional refugees — members of Congress who aren’t returning next year. Technically, I’m still in the House, but I have no home. After the November election, all 53 of us were required to leave our offices so they could be redecorated for our replacements in the new Congress.I’m one of the congressional refugees — members of Congress who aren’t returning next year. Technically, I’m still in the House, but I have no home. After the November election, all 53 of us were required to leave our offices so they could be redecorated for our replacements in the new Congress.
Now we’re corralled into makeshift space in a cafeteria. Once, we projected an aura of power. Now, we project the odor of French fries and tuna fish. Each of us is provided one small table, two chairs and a computer, to be shared with the loyal remnants of our staffs. I was going to drape a “Welcome to Cubicle 45” sign over the fabric partition that now defines my new digs, but my staff said we’re no longer budgeted for such extravagance.Now we’re corralled into makeshift space in a cafeteria. Once, we projected an aura of power. Now, we project the odor of French fries and tuna fish. Each of us is provided one small table, two chairs and a computer, to be shared with the loyal remnants of our staffs. I was going to drape a “Welcome to Cubicle 45” sign over the fabric partition that now defines my new digs, but my staff said we’re no longer budgeted for such extravagance.
I’m one of the fortunate ones. After 16 years in office, I decided not to seek re-election. My exit has been long planned and carefully prepared. For colleagues who unexpectedly lost an election, this adds insult to political injury.I’m one of the fortunate ones. After 16 years in office, I decided not to seek re-election. My exit has been long planned and carefully prepared. For colleagues who unexpectedly lost an election, this adds insult to political injury.
I’ve heard some colleagues call it dehumanizing. But I think the way Congress treats its departing members is a refreshing exercise in humility, and a surprising example that the institution can move fast — when it must.I’ve heard some colleagues call it dehumanizing. But I think the way Congress treats its departing members is a refreshing exercise in humility, and a surprising example that the institution can move fast — when it must.
First, the humility. I recently attended a panel discussion for those of us facing “life after Congress.” It was like a euthanasia pre-brief, although there were glimmers of ego-gratification. We learned we could still park near the Capitol (but not in the garages); give tours of the House Floor (but only if the speaker approved our request) and bypass Capitol metal detectors (so long as we had our congressional lapel pins and proper forms of identification). We even have two seats each to President-elect Donald J. Trump’s inauguration. Folding seats. On the lawn. Down below. (Anyone want mine?)First, the humility. I recently attended a panel discussion for those of us facing “life after Congress.” It was like a euthanasia pre-brief, although there were glimmers of ego-gratification. We learned we could still park near the Capitol (but not in the garages); give tours of the House Floor (but only if the speaker approved our request) and bypass Capitol metal detectors (so long as we had our congressional lapel pins and proper forms of identification). We even have two seats each to President-elect Donald J. Trump’s inauguration. Folding seats. On the lawn. Down below. (Anyone want mine?)
Now the efficiency. The only thing that moves swiftly in a slothy Republican Congress is the timetable governing how departing members are jettisoned from their cushy offices and how the offices are reallocated, refurbished and repopulated between Election Day and the swearing-in of the new Congress on Jan. 3.Now the efficiency. The only thing that moves swiftly in a slothy Republican Congress is the timetable governing how departing members are jettisoned from their cushy offices and how the offices are reallocated, refurbished and repopulated between Election Day and the swearing-in of the new Congress on Jan. 3.
It’s not just new and departing members’ trading places; those who remain also take the opportunity to claim offices that are bigger, better, higher, closer to the elevators, or with any view other than the Capitol power plant spewing exhaust. A lottery — by order of seniority — unleashes successive waves of officeseekers peeking at soon-to-be-vacated spaces.It’s not just new and departing members’ trading places; those who remain also take the opportunity to claim offices that are bigger, better, higher, closer to the elevators, or with any view other than the Capitol power plant spewing exhaust. A lottery — by order of seniority — unleashes successive waves of officeseekers peeking at soon-to-be-vacated spaces.
A few weeks before the election I met a congressman for the first time. I assumed he came by to wish me well in my future. I quickly learned he wanted to check out my coveted view of the Washington Monument. Awkward. And premature. He lost out to Representative Kristi Noem, a South Dakota Republican, who will soon learn that the view is indeed inspiring, but that the well-known “hot air” in Washington doesn’t seem to rise from the vents under the window on cold days.A few weeks before the election I met a congressman for the first time. I assumed he came by to wish me well in my future. I quickly learned he wanted to check out my coveted view of the Washington Monument. Awkward. And premature. He lost out to Representative Kristi Noem, a South Dakota Republican, who will soon learn that the view is indeed inspiring, but that the well-known “hot air” in Washington doesn’t seem to rise from the vents under the window on cold days.
When facing the challenge of choosing a new office, very few members are undecideds. Decisions are made quickly. An army of painters and furniture movers swarm the Hill. Walls are stripped of grip-and-grin photos, carpets are lifted and laid. Files are boxed, personal belongings shipped. and the doors are locked behind us. When facing the challenge of choosing a new office, very few members are undecideds. Decisions are made quickly. An army of painters and furniture movers swarm the Hill. Walls are stripped of grip-and-grin photos, carpets are lifted and laid. Files are boxed, personal belongings shipped. And the doors are locked behind us.
In just over two weeks, this migration will be complete. Freshly scrubbed members will occupy their freshly painted offices. There will be no trace of those of us who once populated the place, other than archaeological remnants: a paper clip wedged at the back of a desk drawer, a Post-it note clinging to a file cabinet. Oh, and perhaps one or two pieces of legislation we succeeded in passing — though that seems to be becoming increasingly rare.In just over two weeks, this migration will be complete. Freshly scrubbed members will occupy their freshly painted offices. There will be no trace of those of us who once populated the place, other than archaeological remnants: a paper clip wedged at the back of a desk drawer, a Post-it note clinging to a file cabinet. Oh, and perhaps one or two pieces of legislation we succeeded in passing — though that seems to be becoming increasingly rare.
For some, the shock of going from having their pictures hanging on walls to becoming just a face in the crowd will feel like too much to bear. They may find that the humiliations of the process serve a necessary function: an acclimatization from the rarefied atmosphere of congressional life to the normal life of a private citizen.For some, the shock of going from having their pictures hanging on walls to becoming just a face in the crowd will feel like too much to bear. They may find that the humiliations of the process serve a necessary function: an acclimatization from the rarefied atmosphere of congressional life to the normal life of a private citizen.
This is actually a vital reminder that we are, after all, citizen legislators. We’re Capitol Hill tenants with two-year leases. The intoxicating prestige of Washington ultimately yields to the sobriety of private life. I’ll be writing, among other things, separated from my loyal staff and C-Span audience. For kicks, I may give Floor speeches to the bathroom mirror.This is actually a vital reminder that we are, after all, citizen legislators. We’re Capitol Hill tenants with two-year leases. The intoxicating prestige of Washington ultimately yields to the sobriety of private life. I’ll be writing, among other things, separated from my loyal staff and C-Span audience. For kicks, I may give Floor speeches to the bathroom mirror.
My advice to the new members is to relish your first days in Congress, but give thought to your final ones. Resist the trappings of power. Don’t watch yourself on TV or read your own press clippings. Befriend a colleague with whom you disagree to understand that there are no absolutes in Washington. Find the balcony, just outside the House Floor, where Democrats and Republicans hold civil conversations while our colleagues attack one another inside. Go home on weekends.My advice to the new members is to relish your first days in Congress, but give thought to your final ones. Resist the trappings of power. Don’t watch yourself on TV or read your own press clippings. Befriend a colleague with whom you disagree to understand that there are no absolutes in Washington. Find the balcony, just outside the House Floor, where Democrats and Republicans hold civil conversations while our colleagues attack one another inside. Go home on weekends.
And remember, at some point, voluntarily or involuntarily, you’ll be moving out and returning to the highest honor our nation bestows: being a good citizen.And remember, at some point, voluntarily or involuntarily, you’ll be moving out and returning to the highest honor our nation bestows: being a good citizen.
And Representative Noem, for when the heat gets finicky, I left a sweater in the closet.And Representative Noem, for when the heat gets finicky, I left a sweater in the closet.