By Emily Shumaker
D.C. is more than just a turbulent wave of politics and anger. There are people there, too!
Last weekend, I ventured up to DC and observed the ebb and flow of the crowds and activity on the streets. I found Cafe du Parc, a coffee shop recommended by my Aunt that was nestled inside the famous Willard Hotel. My Aunt is a bit of a history buff and made sure to point out that every President since Fillmore had stayed in that hotel. I sat with my notebook, pen, and latte at a table in full view of Pennsylvania Avenue. The White House and the Capitol were only a few blocks away. I enjoyed the spread that I found: it was a nice combination of experiencing the historic vibe of the capital of the country, as well as getting a taste of the normal city life.
I sat and wrote at Cafe du Parc.
Men in their suits and women in their fitted dresses dashed past me, all giving off a vibe of importance and formality. The men had suave hairstyles and the women wore chic coats, setting the standard of fashion in D.C.. Falling somewhere in between a hipster and a perfect business casual culture, there is a certain air amongst the people in D.C. that makes them different from the people in New York, London, Los Angeles, or any other place in the world. It is serious, formal, driven, and smart. D.C. is a bunch of people who are very competent and well put-together. Made up of both seasoned professionals and young interns, its working world is dynamic and adds much to the culture. People in D.C. dress smartly, because that is exactly what you do when you live in D.C.
Inside the Willard Hotel.
The city comes with its own set of requirements of living and the people oblige willingly, from what I can tell. Upon entering the job, you feel included in this elite crowd. Is it the fancy business casual, the bond that comes from shared love for history, or sharing the home of the country’s capital? The unique culture makes sense: as the backdrop for their walk to grab lunch or meet a colleague is iconic features such as the National Mall and the World War II Memorial. They may not even jump anymore when they hear the president’s motorcade suddenly come up a nearby street.
When I see the people of D.C., I imagine their lives. I imagine that they must be working on big projects and proposals in their office by day, only stopping to refill their coffee cups or to grab a soup and sandwich from the nearest Pret A Manger. Then, they must always be toasting to some success story with the finest wine and champagne. I imagine that they attend book-signings and galas on the regular. At the end of each day, they must return to their classy apartment or take the metro back to their homes to unwind and rest.
I hope to join them one day. Each time I visit, I take note of the culture, what makes it, and I stay busy imagining the lives of all the strangers I pass as I walk. Even though we are strangers, I feel a connection to them.
Everybody in this city is trying to fit into the role of being a true D.C.-ite. Though hardly anybody speaks, the people are bound by the same mission and appreciation for the place they are in.
D.C.’s very unique culture is made distinct by the people, the history, the clothing, and the energy that comes from the government being central to everything that goes on.
Even though you probably only pass strangers while you are in D.C., the people are highly aware of what it takes to be like a true ‘D.C.-ite” and are trying to be like each other. Humans naturally work towards fitting in. We all subconsciously obey social standards and cues and begin to assimilate to the people around us.
D.C. is this place where lots of people have assimilated to the culture that seemed predestined for them. Cities all develop their own culture.
But I wondered, did the people in D.C. come to this city with their jet-set pace and professional clothing, or did D.C. make them like that? And if so, who were all of these people before they came to D.C.?
* * *
D.C.: Protests. Significant Supreme Court hearings. Crime. Terrible traffic. Tourism. Secret Service. Media. Events. Politics at its worst. All of the reportage on the capital of our country is hashed out at such a warp speed rate that anyone looking in from the outside must think that D.C. is quite a lousy place to be. I used to be one of these people. With recent allegations made about the Supreme Court nominee, the protests, and the strong feelings most people express towards our President, it seemed normal to think that D.C. must be as chaotic as the talk that surrounded it. It tends to get most of the air time on the news and in the papers, so it feels like I’ve been there more than I have. I grew up in Kentucky. Until my family moved to Virginia, I had only visited D.C. on rare occasions to tour the Capitol, visit my Aunt, attend a book-signing of my photojournalist friend, and shop at the Tyson Center. Most recently, I drove there by myself over a holiday from university to explore it for myself.
The Willard Hotel.
As I sat in Cafe Du Parc, a man wearing one of those crisp, black aprons moved around me and switched out the place mats on each and every table. He wiped them off and stacked them high. He moved swiftly and made conversation with one of the doormen. There were men and women in fancy black attire busily shuffling large luggage carts with brass poles and sleek black platforms across the lobby for their guests. They look as stereotypical for D.C. as my barista did, with their nice hair and crisp black aprons, but this is what they do for some sort of living. On the streets, I watched as couples, families with backpacks and strollers in tow, all moved. They walked past. They were all headed somewhere. Perhaps some were locals and others were tourists, but the ebb and flow of the crowds never really die in D.C.. There are the locals, the ones who tire easily of all the attention paid to the place they call home. Sure, they talk politics all the time, but even they need a break once in a while. They see what is being said on the news and then look out the window of their balcony in their townhouse, with coffee mug in hand, and they see and feel normalcy. This has become their routine and their home. I am sure they must wish the news would stop saying otherwise. In local, trustworthy places like Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream and the Old Ebbitt Grill are those who have laid roots in this magnificent city: the business owners, who know the ebb and flow of D.C. better than anybody. They have embraced and found a spot in the chaos that is broadcasted all over the news. The people around me-the ones milling past who seem to have clear directions about where they are going- look fancy because they don stylish clothing and put on airs, but they too have actual lives. They shop at SafeWay and Whole Foods and spend their Saturdays visiting the museums. These history buffs love that there are streets with names like “Constitution” or “Independence”. They are businessmen and women who climbed the ladder of success starting with the days they were an intern. There is something just so D.C. about these people. And I wonder how they got that way.
The street-view of D.C.
According to a New York Times article. “It is well-known that clothing affects how other people perceive us as well as how we think about ourselves.” People living in D.C. reflect this extremely well. They look nice in their suits and ties. Is it because the city changed them and subtly requires that they do this? According to a study published in the Independent, only 1 in 10 people in the professional world wear a suit to work anymore. Though the rest of the world has departed from wearing suits and ties, the general dress in D.C. is just that: business casual, suits and ties. This commitment to nice clothing plays a role in setting them apart from other places of living. D.C. has got a sense of history and pride that keeps it a lot more formal than other places.
Clothing makes a statement and living in a city changes you. The way we dress affects the way we think about ourselves and the place we live affects the way we behave. The people who come to D.C. do this.
* * *
Mixed in with these important, albeit stereotypical, D.C. business men and women were also tourists, families, local employees, taxi drivers, and other various visitors to the country’s capital. The Willard Hotel, where I sat, seemed to the be the perfect venue for such a crowd. It reflected the people who occupied it: grand and wealthy, yet normal and rhythmic. I could sense that living in privilege had become normal and comfortable to the people who often frequent D.C. The dad with an informational brochure in hand leads his family from one monument to another and carefully across Pennsylvania and Constitution Avenue, making sure the importance of such names and monuments is not lost on them. He took his family to this important part of the country so that he might bestow the knowledge of the forefathers on them. I walked behind one of the National Museums and saw a single security guard standing in the corner. As I walked down the street, I saw a family around the corner just tucked away against a building, trying to step out of the flow of pedestrians so they might gather themselves and determine which direction they should take. They pass around a bag of pretzels and shift their bags and backpacks. There is the unavoidable swarm of excited middle schoolers who have anticipated the annual field trip to D.C. so they can chatter casually in front of the White House with all of their friends and sport the bright, same-colored t-shirt that the rest of their group wears. I assume there is a big Greyhound bus somewhere in the city, waiting to take them home at the end of their field trip. They are busy making memories with their friends while their mother back home frets over them being away from home. And then there is the intern, seeking to get an entry-level job through networking so that he or she might climb the ladder of success. They are the ones eating sushi and grabbing the metro in some dapper suit.
It might surprise the people who have found a place in D.C. that I aspire to be like them and that I search to find the answers for what intrigues me about them. Perhaps it is because I grew up in a different part of the country that I have a fascination with them. Nevertheless, I want to join them. I have a story about growing up, chasing my dream, and traveling the world that I think will resonate with them. And prior to joining the culture, I’ll gladly lay down some cash to match them in dress and attire.
So, yes, the picture of D.C. that I gather from the news headlines may be true: there are court hearings and protests and it is the backdrop to a lot of important decisions. But D.C. is also this aspirational place where people live out their dreams and lead normal lives. It is where professionals who match one another in dream and motivation all live and work together with mutual appreciation for the culture that they are surrounded with.
After a conversation with a man who noticed my Oxford sweatshirt on the metro, I began to think that this was a place I could join one day. Maybe I could get my own business casual and start to keep pace with them. This visit made me look forward to the time that I will graduate from college. I have a feeling that everybody there started like me: wearing a sweatshirt before they moved there and then began to change their dress to better reflect the atmosphere after living there. I feel like I have something in common with the people of D.C.. Nobody was born wearing business casual. It’s the story and the vision we all share.
The hum of the metro occupied my thoughts as I took it back to my Aunt’s house.
My Aunt and I seeing some of the tourist sights - just for fun!
The link to our podcast, in which I discuss my trip to D.C. : https://soundcloud.com/user-605085192/place-based-story-edited-podcast