The One Where Joe Biden Told Me to Go Home
*Record scratch*
Yeah, that’s me (top left). See, I’m the only idiot looking at the wrong camera. Or maybe I was just watching the former Vice President…the world may never know. You’re probably wondering how I got here. Let’s rewind a couple of hours.
Joe Biden was late.
An over-eager group of graduate students huddled together on the stairs of the Great Hall of the Lyndon B. Johnson Presidential Library and Museum. We were the lucky ones. It was 2017, and we had been selected by lottery to meet former Vice President Joe Biden.
His flight had been delayed, but he was determined to make time for us (…or so we were told). Nearly an hour later, we were beginning to doubt that. We feared he may have to cancel his visit — our worst fear as public policy graduate students itching to meet someone with such power to change the world.
Just when we were beginning to lose all hope, Vice President Biden walked in.
He apologized profusely for his lateness. Of course, we didn’t mind. We were the ones inconveniencing him, in our eyes. He walked through the small crowd, laying hands on shoulders, asking our names, and introducing himself (as if we didn’t already know who he was). He didn’t waste time and immediately went into grandpa mode — kind, concerned voice and all.
“Let me give you the most important piece of advice that I can give,” he said…or something to that effect (the excitement of it all blurs my memory).
“Go home.” [Insert pause for effect.]
He went on to applaud our dedication to becoming community leaders, organizers, advocates, and policy wonks.
“…But don’t forget where you came from,” he cautioned.
Young policy professionals tend to flock in droves to Washington, New York, or the state capitals. That’s where the magic happens. These cities are overrun by the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Literally…overrun.
We tend to gather in big cities where we can find more people who have the same goals as us, who have similar interests to us, and who think like us.
We overlook the cities and towns, including our very own hometowns, where we have the potential to make the most change. We say that we want to put up a fight, but perhaps we go to where the fight is easiest. Change isn’t easy, especially in small towns that have had the same mayor (who also serves as the sheriff, the town clerk, and the sole pastor) for ages.
Smaller cities often lack true political diversity and engagement. People vote along the same party lines that they have for decades, and their views are rarely challenged from within their own communities. They are often overlooked by campaigns, by civic engagement organizations and initiatives, and — by extension — all of us young, energetic activists and aspiring world-changers.
I am certainly preaching to the choir here. Fate would have me, for the time being, in the nation’s capital. However, I will never forget Vice President Biden’s advice:
“Go home.”
Who knows? COVID-19 has produced, along with a series of other horrors, somewhat of an exodus from a lot of major cities. Many young professionals have moved back home, at least temporarily, to be with family and friends. Perhaps this will be the start of a decentralization of political activism and civic engagement.
Change rarely begins on Capitol Hill. If we want true change in our country, it will begin with our smaller, often overlooked communities. Maybe we just have to go home.
