Pages get political on Capitol Hill


March 14, 2005, midnight | By Chelsea Zhang | 19 years, 8 months ago

Blazers gain valuable learning experience by assisting on national and state


He took a picture with Chris Van Hollen and chatted in the Capitol elevator with Albert Wynn, both representatives from Maryland. At President Bush's second inauguration, he sat among congressmen in the first section of bleachers, close enough to see the wrinkles on Bush's face. He watched from the floor of the U.S. House of Representatives when Iraqi Prime Minister Ayad Allawi addressed Congress in September. But he had no constituency, no personal office, not even the right to vote.

At 16 years old, junior Max Epstein was a Congressional page. Instead of attending Blair last semester, he delivered statements and bills for the offices of all House Democrats and lived in a dorm in Washington, D.C., with 66 other pages. Van Hollen had appointed him to the Congressional Page Program, an exclusive opportunity that accepts high school juniors nationwide based on nominations by representatives.

The job entitled Epstein to more than premium seating at televised events; it enabled him to experience the legislative process firsthand, side-by-side with congressmen. Epstein is one of a handful of Blazers who, as pages to legislative members, has worked behind the curtains of American democracy.

On the job

Senior Maggy Acosta, left, with Baltimore Mayor Martin O'Malley,

Photo courtesy of Acosta


As Epstein settled into his job, reporting to work on the House floor five days a week became no big deal. "The first couple of weeks I walked into the House of Representatives, it hit me every day how amazing it was that I worked here," he says. "And then when I took [the job] for granted, it was even more amazing that I could possibly take it for granted."

Every morning, pages receive their tasks from the Democratic and Republican page desks, located at the back of the House floor. Specially designated pages answer phone calls at the page desks, carry messages from the cloakrooms and take vote tallies to the Speaker's rostrum.

Epstein usually ran deliveries from congressmen's offices to anywhere in the Capitol complex through underground tunnels. For a $1,400 monthly salary, he set out on assigned runs from 12 p.m. to 4:30 p.m. and returned to the page desks when Congress was in session. He made two runs on some days, 10 on others. After the 2004 presidential election, he delivered a bill that would increase disclosure of funds in last-minute election advertising.

One Friday night, Epstein had to stay on-call in the House while congressmen deliberated a tricky bill in committee. He and several other pages paced around the Capitol Rotunda and "sat around a whole lot." Finally, at 2 a.m., a stressed and stymied Congress recessed, dismissing the pages. When they returned the next morning, the bill was submitted for consideration and passed.

Winston Sale, a staff assistant for Van Hollen, finds the pages extremely helpful for their errands, which range from setting up visual aids to fetching water. "I use the page program almost every day," he says. "It's important to making things run smoothly on Capitol Hill, especially when there's not enough staff to do these tasks. You know you can count on the pages." The page program has provided assistants to representatives since 1827.

While Epstein helped out at the national level, senior Maggy Acosta served as a page for the state. During the week of Feb. 7, she answered phones, prepared bills and made copies for 11 Baltimore County representatives in the Maryland House of Delegates. Required to work only the first hour of each day's session, she found the sessions light and informal. Acosta capitalized on her free time by attending committee hearings on teen driving restrictions and minimum wage increases.

Up close and exclusive

Acosta not only saw government in action but also met the people who run it. She enjoyed shaking hands, collecting business cards and posing for a picture with Baltimore Mayor Martin O'Malley. "It was fun to meet people who make a difference," she remarks.

An intern for Congress in the summer of 1996, social studies teacher Marc Grossman praises the exposure to important people that comes with working for Congress. "You learn how to interact with professionals. The contacts and relationships you develop are invaluable," he says. Though he later abandoned a career in politics, Grossman explains that his internship gave him a "foot in the door" when he applied to work for Bill Clinton's 1996 campaign.

Opportunities to meet politicians came to Epstein as easily as dropping papers. Once, he approached a metal detector while delivering 10 boxes of flags to be flown over the Capitol. Fumbling for his cell phone in his pocket while trying to balance the flags, he dropped a packet of documents. Before he could bend over to retrieve them, Democratic presidential candidate Dennis Kucinich, who was standing nearby, had picked them up for him.

Another time, Epstein attended a House debate on the Constitutional amendment to ban same-sex marriage. Afterward, he congratulated Massachusetts Congressman Barney Frank, who rarely spoke to pages, on a witty speech. When Frank thanked Epstein for the comment, the onlooking pages were impressed. "Everyone else was surprised because you don't talk to Barney Frank; you stay out of speech. When Frank thanked Epstein for the comment, the onlooking pages were impressed. "Everyone else was surprised because you don't talk to Barney Frank; you stay out of his way," Epstein says.

Acosta left Annapolis with the realization that government figures are ordinary people. "The people who represent us in our government are just like us," she reflects.

Work, play and politics

During her stay in Annapolis, Acosta rose at 7 a.m., showered, donned a business uniform with a "really ugly" page jacket and walked two blocks to the State House. When not observing committees, she played Baby Boomer Trivial Pursuit, went to Starbucks and fed the ducks with the other pages.

By contrast, life as a page was hectic for Epstein, who attended the House of Representatives Page School at the Library of Congress. He juggled five classes in the morning with page duties in the afternoon and offseason baseball practices two to three times a week, which took up to two hours of round-trip transportation. He also visited his home in Bethesda and saw non-page friends in his free time.

In Washington, D.C., Epstein was surrounded by other pages from New York and Nebraska, from San Diego and the Deep South. They had culture-clash arguments over Southerners' pride in NASCAR and Midwesterners' insistence upon calling soft drinks "pop" instead of "soda." When Epstein's roommate got a miniature tree for Christmas, Epstein, who is Jewish, dubbed it the "Chanukah bush."

Differences in political viewpoints inspired debates about affirmative action, abortion and same-sex marriage that lasted off and on for hours at a time. The debates provoked Epstein's boss to demand "no debates on the House floor" for pages. When the pages watched the presidential debates in the dorm, they set a rule for themselves: all-around silence. "If anyone spoke, it would turn into a big argument," remembers Epstein.

Still, he found that diverging political ideologies didn't interfere with making friendships. In the close-knit dorms, opportunities for socializing came all too easily. "It's hard to set aside time to study when all your friends are in your house," he says.

"Tons of fun"

Epstein and his page friends now share an unbreakable bond. "We lived together, worked together, went to school together. After five months, you get so ridiculously close," he says. When Epstein applied to the page program, he wanted to make friends, get experience and earn money. He got everything he was looking for -- "everything and a whole lot more," he says.

Acosta looks forward to returning to Annapolis as a page for a second week this month; she hopes she can partake in more action than before. Her high expectations mirror her enthusiasm about the page experience. "If you're interested in government, if you like to talk to people, if you don't mind walking around in uncomfortable shoes and if you don't mind sitting around in committee, then being a page is tons of fun," she says.



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Chelsea Zhang. Chelsea Zhang was born in Tianjin, China on May 17,1988 and moved to the U.S. when she was five. She is now a SENIOR with inexplicable tendencies to get hyper at inopportune times and forget things. She doesn't remember if she's been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, … More »

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