August 2006

It took all of 4 days to come up with an appropriate name for this blog, and I’m pleased to report it has slightly more depth than White Girl’s Assorted Perils.

Once again the solution to my not-really-a-problem presented itself when I wasn’t looking for it. The best solutions are always stumbled upon, yes? Or, in this case, driven upon.

Having completed the move to DC, I was ready to start my new and frightening existence among the East Coasties. But my parents requested one last thing before they left — how about we drive my route to work, both to familiarize me with it, and make them feel better? Because despite the fact they couldn’t change my participation in this, they could still impart essential wisdom like “turn left here.” So, I said sure. Why not. Good idea, even.

A few minutes later, I mapquested that mofo, printed out the directions, and set off towards the city.

My new apartment is just across the river in Virginia. First, it’s cheaper to live there, and second, it’s easier to have a car there. It also serves as a compromise with my roommate who works a little further back into The Commonwealth. Anyway, it’s barely across the border, so when emerging from the side road that leads to the highway, one is immediately greeted with the “skyline” of DC: the Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial, and Capitol dome. It’s, in a word, awesome. The actual definition of awesome, mind you, not the version popularized by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Focus on the awe part.

Maybe it’s because I’m a social studies nerd, or because I think America ~rawks~, or because I have a general appreciation for architectural beauty on display. But looking at that sight, I can’t help get excited. In a way like “man, I’ll NEVER get tired of looking at that.” And I don’t think I will.

“Wow,” my dad said, as if thinking the same thing as me.

“That’s what I get to look at sitting in traffic,” I replied.

“Not a bad view,” he understatement-of-the-year’d.

I continued driving on the 14th Street Bridge over the Mighty Potomac until reaching my exit — the sign that said “US Senate.” How exciting!

I felt like I was on some kind of patriotic high. Not a rah-rah America, post-9/11 bumper sticker kind of patriotic, but the kind born in civic pride — as if these buildings were personifying “checks and balances.” I caught myself reminiscing about the social studies lesson plans I used to write. I know, I know — but don’t judge me, ok?

A few more turns and some stop signs later, I made a left and noted via my directions that I’d be on this street for a while. After a moment I glanced in my rear view mirror and was stunned — there, in all its glory, was an unobstructed view of the Capitol Dome, larger and closer than I ever expected. I couldn’t stop gaping, so good thing it was an early Sunday morning and traffic was non-existent.

Nothing could top a sight like that, right?

Nope. So let me reintroduce you to the phrase “nowhere to go but down.”

As I kept driving, the buildings alongside the road gradually began to look shabbier. Some had boarded-up windows; others had graffiti on the sides. Instead of inviting shopfronts I saw bars on doors. I glanced in my mirror again. The dome looked slightly smaller, but still every bit as visible.

I sat at a red light and looked at a row of condemned buildings adjacent to a liquor store with a little kid sitting alone outside of it.

“Do you have to go on this road?” My mom interrupted my thoughts.

Distracted by the corner store next to us with the two bullet holes in its glass door, I didn’t answer. I took a last glance in my rear view at the dome and turned off onto the street that would lead to my placement site.

Talk about sobering. I can’t properly articulate that feeling — going from a sense of pride and awe, to wondering what the residents of this dilapidated, seemingly forgotten neighborhood felt when they saw it. Obviously, I knew I’d be working in a poor neighborhood. But seeing the landscape morph before my eyes, all the while that same dome that had excited me ten minutes ago turned borderline mocking. The Capitol can be seen from so many points in DC, but the people in power there don’t reciprocate that view.

To belatedly answer my mom’s question, yes, it’s the only route for me to get to work. Looks like I’ll have plenty of occasions to ponder this new twist on American symbolism in my mirror. Welcome to life in the Rear View.