I was nervous. Very nervous. I was a college freshman in Washington D.C. and about to meet my hometown Congressman. I had made the appointment weeks earlier — an “interview” with the Congressman was critical to a political science paper that was coming due all too soon. In theory, the whole thing sounded easy. But here I was, in the waiting area, 2,800 miles from home, waiting for one of the most powerful people in the Capitol.
When I arrived, I was warned he might not have much time for me — votes were on the horizon. And all too soon, I was rushed into his inner sanctum and it was just the two of us. I managed to gasp out a couple questions, taking notes as fast as I could; and then the bells rang. The bells, of course, indicated that he had to go vote. I immediately assumed that my time with the Congressman was up. But after talking a few more minutes, he jumped out of his chair, said “come with me,” and we were on a fast-paced jaunt; me trying to keep up and ask questions all at the same time. Upon reaching the Capitol, he deposited me, ran to vote, and came back to finish the interview. I was genuinely astonished that he had taken so much time to talk to me and answer my questions. Later, I wrote him a thank-you note; I received a handwritten notecard back saying he hoped I received a good grade on the paper “despite the interviewee.” I was impressed, but still a little dumbfounded as to why he would spend so much effort on one 18-year old college student when he had over 600,000 constituents back home.
Little did I know then that the jittery encounter would not be my last with the Congressman. I eventually spent the better part of six years working on foreign policy issues for him. That experience in turn opened the opportunity to represent the Save Darfur Coalition before Congress. But I’ve always felt fortunate I had that first experience of being on the other side — of being the constituent in the room — because it allows me to understand what many Darfur activists must feel when they go to meet their Congressional officials.
My subsequent time on the Hill enlightened me to why the Congressman chose to go out of his way that day — I was a constituent. Although not wholly without reason, too many of the stories about Congress are about the supposedly immense access lobbyists have. But in my experience, constituents are the ones who get first-class treatment by their Members of Congress. Because people see their Congressional officials on TV, in parades, or speaking on the Floor of the House, they forget that the elected official actually works for them — but elected officials, the smart ones anyway, never forget that fact.
On Day 11 of the “16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence” I wanted to use my own experience to demonstrate the impact you can have by simply calling or visiting your Member of Congress. Some people think I have the easiest job in Washington — I lobby against genocide, what could possibly be easier than that? It’s true that there are no pro-genocide Members of Congress, that the pro-Bashir caucus is a mighty quiet one. But what we at Save Darfur lobby against, and what we encourage Sudan activists to lobby against, is inaction and indifference in the face of genocide; in the face of gender-based violence. And we need your help to do it.
Today’s highlighted Leaders Against Gender Violence are two Members of Congress who have taken it upon themselves to refuse to allow inaction and indifference in the face of gender based violence. Senator Barbara Boxer (D-CA) and Senator Russ Feingold (D-WI) are two longstanding champions for Darfuris, and they jointly held a Senate Foreign Relations Committee hearing on “Confronting Rape and other Forms of Violence Against Women in Conflict Zones: Spotlight DRC and Sudan,” earlier this year. Save Darfur’s own Niemat Ahmadi, a Darfuri survivor, testified at the hearing at which the Senators present pressed for more State Department action in the wake of the horrible crimes that continue to be committed.
Support for ending the violence in genocide is strong in Congress. But it can always be stronger. So on this day, I ask you to consider contacting your Senators to urge them to make ending gender-based violence in Darfur a personal priority. My fearful first encounter opened up a world of possibilities — imagine what yours might be able to do for the women of Darfur.