Since 1774, in some capacity, Congress has employed pages. These young men and women serve their country honorably by fulfilling a variety of tasks to keep the House floor running smoothly. Speaker John Boehner (R-Ohio) and Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) recently decided to end the page program, citing its $5 million annual cost as the primary reason for its cancellation.
Many pose the question of why leaders decided to cut the program entirely, rather than reforming it and making it fiscally stable (perhaps partially through alumni donations). Others ask why this vital program — accounting for about 1/100,000 of the legislative branch budget — is getting scrapped while taxpayer dollars are being spent building mosques abroad, and twice as much is spent on iPods for government employees.
Across the political spectrum, people are upset by this decision.
"I'm appalled and devastated by it. I think it's the most wonderful opportunity a young person in America possibly could have," said former Clerk of the House Donnald K. Anderson. "People often look at the bottom line, rather than the long term or overall good. It's just another piece of history that's being eliminated."
The page program is not designed for "rich kids." According to one former page, "There were lots of kids who wouldn't otherwise have a chance to get to D.C. Their families weren't in politics, and they had no connections. But being a page really gave them a foundation from which to build something good."
As a teenager working on my small farm in North Carolina, I was appointed as a page by my Congresswoman, Republican Virginia Foxx.
The greatness of the program was exemplified by the opportunities and experiences that changed my character from a quiet, hardworking farm boy to a more well-rounded young man that was soon debating foreign policy with Rep. Ron Paul (R-Texas).
Perhaps one of the most significant advantages of the page program is its ability to transcend all backgrounds and class levels to bring 75 young adults to experience legislative action. Pages in my class watched Rep. Ted Poe (R-Texas) give a 50-minute "special order": "They are not called 'Holiday Trees.' They are called 'Christmas Trees,' and that's just the way it is."
On his first day, fellow pages and I informed a new Member of Congress about the details of the floor, including how to vote and what voting lights and bells on Congressional clocks signified.
More important than the tasks pages are given, however, is the purpose of the program: These high school students are given the rare opportunity to contribute to our nation's political process in action.
They become familiar with the regular proceedings of our unique House of Representatives — the legislative branch most closely connected to the people of the United States of America.
Pages leave the program with a burning sense of patriotism and a duty of public service in whatever form that might take.
On our first day as pages, Anderson reminded us of the charts shown to elementary school students about how laws are made. When the chart shows a bill going through committees and to a House vote, pages were the arrows on the chart orchestrating the action.
Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand, D-N.Y., speaks with reporters following a vote in the Senate. Gillibrand’s proposal to remove military commanders from the process of reviewing sexual-assault cases was left out of the bicameral deal on the defense authorization bill, but the senator is pushing for a vote on her plan soon.
Each year since 1990, CQ Roll Call has reviewed the financial disclosures of all 541 senators, representatives and delegates to determine the 50 richest members of Congress. This year's report, derived from forms covering the calendar year 2012, shows it took a net worth of $6.67 million to crack the exclusive club.