Press Pass Mentors Goes to Capitol Hill

Thanks to Phil Rucker and Washington Post Capitol Hill reporter Paul Kane the Press Pass crew got a behind the scenes tour of the Capitol last week.  The event gave the students a chance to learn the history and secrets of the United States Capitol building and they got an inside look at where journalists do their work.  During the event we sat in the press gallery in the Senate chamber, took pictures at the podium where senators give their press conferences, and got the chance to ride on the famous Capitol subway.

The event ended with an incredible opportunity to meet with DC congressional representative Congresswoman Elanor Holmes Norton.  During the meeting the students had a chance to talk with Congresswoman Norton about her fight to end taxation without representation in DC and hear her tell stories from her more than 20 years in office.  

Donald Fields: “I knew I was using the laughing stock of lacrosse equipment.”

During my ninth grade year of high school, I was at my school’s sports banquet and my lacrosse coach, Coach Kevin, asked me if I wanted to go to lacrosse camp. I said yes.

The name of the camp was Trilogy Lacrosse, run by four of the best Major League Lacrosse players Mitch Belisle, Matt Striebel, Ryan Boyle and Ned Crotty. The last week of June, I went to the camp in Glencoe, Maryland, where they were using The Oldfields School for their overnight camp. When I pulled up to the school I was greeted by Mitch Belisle. That year, Mitch was the only MLL player directing Trilogy’s Glencoe camp. There were so many kids at the camp, some my size, some very little and some that just made you want to never pick up a lacrosse stick again.

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Greg Dendy: “I am what some would call a ‘church boy.’”

Everyone will feel like an outsider at some point in their lifetime. Your attitude about being an outsider will determine if you remain an outsider.

One day I was at lunch and overheard a conversation. It was about whether Jesus is real or not. At first, I had no reason to join the discussion. The lunch room was filled with students talking about events to come or last night’s outing. Although they were loud, it seemed like my table was the only table whose conversation I had the ability to take grasp of.  I had to remember it was not my place to force my opinion on someone. Yet the conversation soon made its way to me. Everyone knew that I was what some would call a “church boy.” I took the label without a problem and actually liked the status it brought to my name. The main skeptic in the conversation asked, “Is Jesus real?” I answered, “Yes, He is real. If you know Him then you know the answer.” With that response, I brought a major division to the table. Some people began to question my faith, others questioned my logic. In the end, I had just created a wall between me and my classmates who don’t share my beliefs.

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Emani Burgess: “All eyes were on me as if I was a thief.”

There are times in our lives where we feel as though we don’t fit in or we’re outsiders. These events make us feel uncomfortable and ostracized from the real world. Sometimes we ignore these emotions or we deal with them and it brings us to a poor state. I’ve had an experience like this on Black Friday at the Westfield mall in Annapolis. 

I went to purchase a few items for Christmas, but I just felt as though everyone was looking at me. It was actually true. Everyone was looking at me. In every store I heard a slight whisper or giggle of some sort. I knew I didn’t look like a clown or anything and my zipper wasn’t down. “What could it possibly be?”, I thought. It seemed to me that it was because I was black. In every store there were many white people but I didn’t mind its a free country anybody could do as they pleased. 

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Amber Hudson: “I took on the personality of a suburban girl, but in DC it is the opposite.”

Recently I moved from Bealeton, Virginia to Southeast, Washington, D.C. The move put me in a situation that I was not used to— I experienced for the first time in my life a culture shock. In Bealeton I was surrounded by mostly caucasian children but only a few of African American and Hispanic children. We were all raised the same way, taught the same way, acted the same way, looked the same way, and thought the same way. I took on a personality that resembles a suburban girl, but in D.C it is the opposite. Everyone strives to be unique and express their own personality.            

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Stewart Gray: “I headed toward the nearest wall and stuck to it like glue.”

I didn’t even want to go, but at 7 years old, what could I have possibly done? Eyes scrunched, feet heavy, I marched reluctantly towards the school gymnasium. Each step filled the halls with a dull clunk as I walked to the school dance that I was forced to attend. I stepped onto the worn, dusty marble floors and scouted quickly in both directions for any of my friends. While searching, I found a pair of large, yet rather old subwoofers to the right blasting “hit” songs, and to the left, a pool of kids doing the cha-cha slide.

I eyed further to the right then shifted my focus to the front. My friends had been at the food stand, adjacent to the entrance. Unknowingly, the food stand attendees were charging, and I didn’t have any money. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed to occupy myself with something. I headed towards the nearest wall and stuck to it like glue, eyeing everyone else indifferently. Soon, others joined me, along with some friends who refused to get on the dance floor.

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Kadeejah Johnson: “One Mysterious Sunday”

It was Sunday at 9:30 am in April. Grandma said the weatherman said it hadn’t rained in two weeks. I was getting ready for church—it was Easter Sunday, and Grandma said that today I was giving myself away to her father at 2 p.m. When I walked into the Temple of Praise, it was empty. It was quite unusual because usually there are endless old women standing and waving fans, waiting for Pastor Troy—but this had been one mysterious Sunday.

I didn’t understand what that meant, or how it would be done, but I was afraid. When I entered the church, women about the same age as my grandmother were putting their hands over my head, saying small prayers, and shouting out to the lord, that one of his children had wanted to give them away. I felt really out of place—I wanted to go home. I’d never been around so many women who have been in church longer than I’ve been alive. I wanted to get back in the car with my uncle and go home, and watch Sponge Bob all day, until my mom came home from work.

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Class of 2014 Writing Assignment: The Outsiders

Over the next several days, we’ll be posting a series of writing assignments from our Press Pass juniors. We asked each to write about a time when he or she felt like an outsider, and how that experience created a lasting change. What follows is one of our favorite essays from that batch, from Marquett Jones, who wrote about his 24 hours in jail and his cellmate, ‘Big T.’ Stay tuned for the rest over the next week or two.

Thanks for following along with our students’ progress. You’ll enjoy these essays.

By Marquett Jones

Picture waking up in a 6-foot by 6-foot room with one door, which locks securely from the outside to prevent escape. It’s complete darkness, with only a single light bulb flicking on and off every 30 minutes in the far right of the room. The room is cold and empty. There’s nothing but two beds, a sink and a toilet.

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