June 30, 1968
by Janine Stephenson
Who knew that an important place could be so boring? I called Mom collect last night and told her that we were having a wonderful time here in Washington. I told her that Becca and I had learned a great deal about how this country works, and that we're very proud to be a part of The Senator's National Staff. She said that they were all so proud of me and that I had grown up quite a bit over the past few months. She could tell because I don't call her as much as I used to, and though she wishes I could call more, she understands that I'm an adult. Have I found a boyfriend yet?
Her question made me think of Benjamin, who I haven't written or called since leaving Indiana. I wonder if he thinks about me at all anymore. Becca said that last month isn't so long ago and that I should drop a dime and call him. Or a note, a postcard. Anything. But then I told her about what happened with his family, and how they didn't want us seeing each other at all. Her eyes grew very wide. She kept shaking her head and saying, "Screw them."
I don't think that's right. I don't think I could disregard their fears, which were very real. I just don't know if sending a postcard would get his hopes up.
Baby John says that, from the sound of things, Benjamin liked how I could get him out of his circumstances. People living in poverty often dream of winning the lottery or marrying their way out of their misery. While that might be true for poor people, Benjamin had a steady job. I don't think he was poor; not in the way Baby John thinks.
So that's what we talked about yesterday. In fact, that's all we do at National. We're talking and we're hiding out. Ron told us that we might get a job, talking to other people. Maybe working a phone bank. Part of me still feels useless, though seeing Ron's smile lifts my spirits.
At least we're not in a rough space like Craig, who is forced to follow Ron around from meeting to meeting.
We're staying at a hotel with other volunteers. The hotel is nothing fancy, though I am grateful that it's not a dorm room. I just wish we could be more useful to the campaign.
Our time will come.
