"You campaign in poetry,
You govern in prose"
- Leo McGarry, The West Wing
This isn't my first time quoting The West Wing on this blog and, I'm sure we can all agree, it won't be my last. Somewhere in the middle of the fifth season, Leo is having a conversation with Josh about making compromises in policy. How doing so is the reality of running a country, a necessary sacrifice. In actuality, Mario Cuomo, the former governor of New York, should be credited with coming up with this in the first place, but you all know where my loyalty lies.
This quote happens to very acutely resonate with my current situation. If you're having trouble recalling my minor FREAKOUT in my last blog post, let me quickly remind you that I am in the midst of graduate school applications. I, however, am not alone in this venture. Many of my Peace Corps peers are also slaving away, racing the clock in order to complete their applications before our time here in Morocco runs out.
As we work our way through our personal statements, our statements of intent, the diversity statements, the resumes, the writing samples and even policy memos, we are all very aware and sensitive to the game we are expected to play. We are all in on it. The prospective students. The admissions committees. The language we have to use, the stories we have to sell, the synonyms we have to capitalize on; it's all a part of this game. The lofty expectations that the review committees presume we are all going to meet, only make the playing field more competitive. Because we are all playing the same game. We are writing these idealized versions of ourselves. Much like the poetry Leo speaks of, we are weaving tales of grandeur and hoping the admission committees aren't as sickened by it as we are.
Yet, once we are beyond all of this hyperbole, the real work beings. Once we've commenced our journey towards a law degree, an MBA, or a masters in public policy as I am, it is assumed we are to operate in prose. Long gone are the days of opulence and cadence. Out the window with transcendent syntax and warm, fuzzy alliteration... We are now meant to abide by brass tacks. We shall summate. We shall articulate.
We are to remain impassioned. And we are to remain impressive. Persuasive, even. Poignant. Just sans all that nonsense we were forced to incorporate back then in order to get to this point.
It's exhausting and it is frustrating. Albeit, if some other applicant ends up out-poetry-ing me and accepting a place I was not offered, I hereby promise to not fault the successful participant of a flawed system. As the old adage goes, 'hate the game, not the player'. It's really not their fault, I suppose. It is simply the game.
Though, let's just be clear here. I am the one who plans on playing the part of the successful participant within that flawed system we just spoke of. Just for the record.
