Several years ago, there was a trend of essays about “Why I’m Leaving DC/NYC/(insert city here).” If you’ve forgotten about it, that’s probably for the best. They were pretty much always uninteresting, self-absorbed, and offered few, if any, novel observations about the city the author was leaving.
When I saw that Abby Livingston, an excellent congressional reporter, had written an essay with a similar theme, I didn’t click right away. Despite appreciating her work on the Texas delegation, I figured it was just the old trend piece making an unwelcome comeback. But then people kept sharing it, people with good taste who aren’t into tired trend pieces. So I read it, and it was so much more: a valuable perspective on her time in various DC jobs, what she’d experienced and learned, and how the January 6 insurrection and changes in the behavior of (largely, though not entirely, Republican) members of Congress had left her disillusioned and frightened. I understood and empathized with her deeply after reading it.
I come from a different perspective than Abby, as an unabashed partisan who’s been a Democratic pollster for 10 years, but I feel the change too. I don’t have the PTSD that Capitol Hill staffers and reporters have, though I do wish they’d find the person who planted a pipe bomb outside the DNC, under a bench where I’d check in with my polling assistant or sneak an occasional cigarette when I worked at the DCCC. But I do feel bone-tired seeing Republicans swear fealty to Trump, spread dangerous lies about the reliability of election results, and engage in bullying and egregious behavior so far from the values we all ought to hold. I know the work of electing Democrats is still vital and I hope that others will do it well, but I don’t have it in me anymore.
I don’t want to write just about what I’m leaving, though. I want to write about where I’m going: Meriden, CT, where I’ll continue to work remotely for GBAO (the best pollsters and people in the business) until summer 2023 and then, assuming all goes according to plan, start law school.
Why Meriden? It’s close to my family. COVID-19 made it clear to me that being hundreds of miles away from them wasn’t working for me anymore. Even pre-pandemic, having a dog added a degree of difficulty to traveling (even a small dog like Molly who fits in a carrier and loves car rides), and I was tired of being so far away from them. I’ve made wonderful friends in DC (though many have also left DC for other cities) and am lucky to have extended family here, but I feel a powerful need to be closer to my immediate family in Connecticut and Rhode Island.
There are other reasons, too. I’m renting a little townhouse in Meriden, with actual grass right outside my front door, for less money than my apartment in Bethesda. I will be able to walk around outside in the summer without feeling like I’m inside someone’s mouth. (Though Molly is probably going to hate the snow.) I’ll be close to New Haven and Hartford, and though they’re not DC by any means, they’re vibrant areas with people I’m looking forward to meeting. I’ll have steady access to the best pizza in the country.
Why law school? Well, a few reasons. I very nearly applied to law school straight out of undergrad. My constitutional law classes as an undergrad were among my favorites during my entire time at UConn. (If any UConn undergrads are somehow reading this: take classes with Dr. Hettinger and Dr. Bergendahl, you won’t regret it.) I loved digging into the opinions and seeing the reasoning behind why the justices decided what they did.
I have a couple of areas of law I’m interested in, but I’m most excited about labor law. One of the bright spots of the past few years, something that’s kept me going during dark times, is seeing the renewed energy behind labor organizing and bringing unions to workers who haven’t had the chance to benefit from those protections before. On the flip side, we’re also seeing the dark side: massive corporations trying desperately to stop their employees unionizing and even engaging in shady union-busting tactics like deliberately closing stores where workers choose to join a union. I want to be a part of this fight and help those workers stand up to corporations and protect their rights to organize.
In the interest of full disclosure, I did also consider “selling out” by doing market research, briefly working with a headhunter and doing a couple of interviews at various market research firms. Problem is, when I tried to sell out, nobody was buying. I thought I’d be able to easily transition from political polling to market research, but companies were skeptical that I’d want to work on selling their products after so long working for candidates and causes. Frankly, they had a point. I talked to a career coach once in spring, who noticed and pointed out to me the difference between me talking about market research and me talking about my interest in the law. As she put it, I came alive when talking about labor law. In my heart, I knew she was right and I didn’t really want to work for some soulless corporation doing market research. I wanted to go to law school and practice labor law.
So here I go. I’m going to finish my applications after the election, while moving to Connecticut, and pray to every applicable deity that I get a scholarship so I can avoid life-crushing debt. And I’m going to write about the adventure here, if you’d like to come along with me.