Last month I eavesdropped as two women on the Metro reminisced about their days as colleagues in the Clinton administration. As they talked fiscal years, federal budgets and shared political woes, I smiled internally. That instant -- whooshing along the Red Line in the depths of the city -- I imagined myself in a different city, months or even years in the future, longing for this moment of overheard policy chatter. I feel nostalgic about this town, and I haven't even left yet.
Lately it has dawned on me that even though I was raised in New Jersey, I grew up in Washington. I came here in 1996 as a freshman at the University of Maryland, College Park. I was a 17-year-old journalism major and was interested in the usual 17-year-old things, namely me, myself and I.
Jessica Leshnoff, at the statue of John Pershing at Pennsylvania Avenue and 14th Street, misses Washington already.
(Katherine Frey -- The Washington Post)
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A friend and I climbed to the top of our stadium's bleachers during an evening orientation event that summer and looked out toward the city skyline. We gasped a little. The Washington Monument beamed through the late August humidity and I thought: This is my new city.
At that time, I was more interested in my dining hall's daily lunch special than what was going on in the glowing metropolis a few miles away.
My interest in federal this and budget that was years in the making. Now, as I tearfully consider taking a job outside of Washington, it hits me just how much this town has helped me grow, nurtured me with tough love and made me savvy to a world still a mystery to most.
The District was my playground, and occasionally my workplace, throughout my undergraduate years. Finally, with great pride, I moved here in December 2001, into an Adams Morgan efficiency. I was working Christmas retail in Georgetown, navigating the late-night bus system in the frigid air and barely paying my rent.
I searched for a full-time job for more than a year and a half. During that time, I worked the late shift and the early shift. I stood all day, and I sat all day. I took any job I could find.
I hurdled past enormous rats as I ran to catch my 5:30 a.m. bus to get to a 6 a.m. Arlington editing position (carrying a can of mace the size of a small fire extinguisher the whole way). I read documents to blind government workers. I answered phones at nonprofits, and I filed at law firms and unions.
Each passing day, I gained a new respect for this city's workers, the people that make it tick -- the bus drivers, the cashiers, the people who smile at you and hand you your cup of morning coffee. Only weeks before I landed my current job, I handed a $20 bill to a man and his daughter on the street.
I had no business giving that money away, but looking back on it now, I see it was the culmination of my experiences. This city woke me up, and I was reborn a civic-minded person.
When I was offered my current job, the thought of writing full time about research and science policy was beyond daunting. I got a crash course in everything congressional and federal. I found myself talking stem cells and nanotechnology with people who had expertise in fields completely foreign to me.
Those first couple weeks, after everyone was gone for the night, I would put my head down on my desk and cry because I was so utterly confused.
And now, here I am almost two years later, shouting at the television about federal stem cell regulations, poring over bulky legislative text and recognizing city council members at Starbucks.
I suddenly care about things I never cared about before. Okay, so I still prefer a good lunch special over a hearing. And my love for motorcades surpasses my interest in who's actually in the motorcade.
But I'm a changed person.
This city has nourished me in a way no other place could. It brought me low and it raised me up, and when I leave it's going to break my heart.
Thank you, Washington -- your sidewalks, your streets, your people. Save some room for me because I will probably be back.
Jessica Leshnoff is a Washington journalist who's always up for a good museum trip, loud rock show, and, of course, lunch.
