The Idea of an Essay, Volume 4

Narrative & Memoir 65 “Aye.” “Nay.” “Nay.” “Aye.” Later I was standing on the mezzanine overlooking the entrances to the House and Senate. The hustle and bustle of the people faded as the sound of polite clapping was heard. I stood beside the YAG Governor and her administration as she signed my bill into law. In a daze I shook her hand. “I’m proud to have this as one of the bills passed this year. Thank you,” she said. As I walked away to meet with friends, I couldn’t help but notice the history around me. The walls were filled with portraits of instrumental figures in state and national history. The ceilings were vaulted and painted with murals reminiscent of the ancient Greeks. I was surrounded by a rushing current of men and women in suits. Some were state congressmen, some lobbyists, others part of the administration. As much as passion and drive can get you there, I was hit with the fact that those people were in Harrisburg because of words. All the laws of our government are written words that someone wrote. What’s the point of an idea if it cannot be communicated? Words are the way our world works. At the end of the day, it was my bill that got me here. Each word played a part and was important. I left the Youth and Government with a reverence for writing and its power. Words don’t just fill entertaining books and boring school essays. Words have the ability to shape and to build the world around us. And because of a flyer my Mom did not throw away, I now know that my own words, my own writing, may change the world.