When I was 16, I left home to travel to DC and spend my junior year of high school working for Congress as a U.S. House of Representatives Page. During this time I attended school from 6:45 AM to an hour before Congress went into session or 11:30 AM at the latest. I frequently worked late nights, often after midnight, and when I didn't, I still had homework to do until midnight and then got up at 5am the next day. I was exhausted all the time, and yet I consider it the best choice I ever made, and I know I would not be who I am today, were it not for the Page Program. I learned discipline there, in a way I could not have learned anywhere else, and a passion was lit in me for people and places that I never imagined. Sadly, yesterday the Speaker of the House, John Boehner (R-Ohio), announced the ending of the Page Progam, a 235 year tradition, due to the prohibitive costs. I cannot tell you the travesty this is for all the young high schoolers of every economic background that the program accepts and gives the opportunity of a lifetime to. In fact, I cannot tell you the travesty this is for the country who gains far more than the annual $5 million it pays to run the program from the kinds of individuals that the program produces.
For me, Paging snowballed into a series of events that fundamentally changed my life direction for infinitely better. So, in light of that, and in honor of the program that this country should truly grieve, I ask what if I had never been a page? If I had never been a Page, then I, who entered with a desire to go into medicine, would never have encountered the hard questions that eventually led me into the humanities. I would never have known a self-proclaimed communist friend or a socialist government teacher. I would have maintained a black-and-white view that such ideas lacked no merit or logic, rather than see them in a three dimensional understanding. I would also have not met a gay friend until sometime in college and probably would have been still firmer in my black-and-white stance on that one, showing little understanding and finding no need to address the issue. I would also not have encountered the feelings of facing beggars on a daily basis and trying to juggle compassionate and sustainable responses. I wouldn't have met a man on the streets from my hometown and realized how quickly one's privilege can disappear in a few short bad choices or bad luck. I would today be far less of a compassionate individual than I am, and I would not have met my dearest friend, Mike, who has walked with me through all of life's twists and turns and challenged me into being a better me. In short, my views would not have been stretched, and I would have remained fully enmeshed in a conservative, evangelical subculture without any opportunity to see the greater world or understand another perspective.
Moreover, I certainly would not have ever learned of the Congress-Bundestag Youth Exchange, so I would never have gone to Germany on a full scholarship. I would never have become fluent in a second language, meaning my brain would be far less developed and I would be culturally less understanding. I would not have developed a deeper compassion for immigrants into America or some understanding of minority-hood. I probably would not have paid so much attention to racism in the church in America, and I would not have gotten involved in groups to help compassionately bring understanding of white privilege in college. I would also not have met my German friend, Judith, who grew up in Egypt and challenged my biases about Arabs. I wouldn't have experienced those conversations or have been nearly as open to the possibility of one day traveling to Egypt myself, having only a very negative stereotypical (and racist) view of that part of the world. I wouldn't have experienced my German family or friends, who taught me what real cultural immersion meant and have proven to me that true immersion is possible and not a frightening thing to be avoided. I wouldn't have been nearly as courageous about travel later.
Of course, not having been a Page and not having gone to Germany, I would not have looked nearly as impressive on college applications either. I would likely have continued through my last two years of high school taking classes at the community college. Even with strong SAT scores, I would not have been so exciting for the College Honors Program at Messiah College and probably would not have gotten a 60% scholarship. Being surrounded by North Carolinians, who all went to state schools, I would likely have done the same and attended school in Chapel Hill, because it was more affordable. I would have found myself involved campus ministries that affirmed my faith, but I would not have had theology classes that gave me the space to question everything or forced me to ask myself if my faith had become more American than loving. I probably would have kept God in my religious, evangelical box.
Of course, having stayed at the community college throughout high school, I would have had only two years of college left and would not have had time to study abroad. I would not have ever participated in the Middle East Studies Program, traveling to Egypt, Turkey, Syria, Jordan, and Israel, and the Arab Spring that occurred this past spring would have meant nothing to me, save for how it affected my sister's security. I would also not have gone to Thailand, because, even if a program was offered at the state school of my choice and I had the time to participate, it would have been far too exotic for a first-time overseas experience. I might have studied in a place like England, where I wouldn't been really forced so much to face the fact that people of deep faith commitments practice different religions than me. I wouldn't have noticed how much I respected certain faith leaders, regardless of religion, and how much others disgusted me--that this fact remained as true for other religions as for Christianity. Most definitely, I would not have ever made it to a refugee camp on the Thai-Burma border, where a long-term commitment would form for the victims of the Burmese regime.
And Teach for America? Well, at that point, I would have been just an ordinary student with an ordinary educational background. Perhaps I would have been very successful in my couple years of college, and perhaps I would have taken a couple leadership positions that would have made me stand out in the areas that mattered most to Teach for America. Perhaps I would have had a chance of acceptance, but, most likely, I would never have developed a passion or deep interest in alleviating the achievement gap formed out of my own privilege, so I probably wouldn't have even applied and would probably be finishing up medical school or something like that right now. I would not have met Kalanda or Braylen or Coddie or Travis or Lederricka or Camisha or Trevis or Chris or Crystal or so many other students who fundamentally changed my approach towards youth. I wouldn't know now about loving others, regardless of the returned sentiment. I wouldn't know how to lead or manage the way I learned in controlling my classroom.
I would not be a teacher. I would not have found this calling, and I would not have given back to society in that way or be about to head over to the Thai-Burma border as a teacher. Perhaps I would plan on doing medical missions one day, but probably those would be distant dreams. I would be leading a good life, even a compassionate life, but my world would be small, and I would not know the kind of deep caring that I have discovered in far away places.
I will never put a price tag on what the Page Program gave me or any of the other thousands of students who had the opportunity to serve in DC under its auspices. We are who we are because of this opportunity. I am so grateful and so deeply grieved that future students will never have this opportunity again. Ending it simply does not make good economic sense, for we will always give back more than we received in mere dollar amounts.
