It was a gloomy Tuesday in January and pouring rain as I splashed to work for my first day as an intern at the Scottish Parliament.
My day did not get any more glamorous. Scrambling to pad out my rudimentary knowledge of British politics and battling the residual effects of jet lag, I was intimidated by the accomplished political figures surrounding me and generally felt in over my head.
My greatest respite was in my supervisor, Meredith, who greeted me cheerfully at the security office and took it upon herself to instruct me in everything from the basics of drafting parliamentary motions to the best biscuits to stock the office with for teatime.
Slowly, I began to acclimate to my surroundings, although I still depended heavily on Meredith for guidance in my day-to-day work and for help forming connections with other staff. Then, just a few weeks into my internship, Meredith pulled me aside to tell me that she would be moving across the country to Brighton and transitioning to fully remote work.
My heart sank. Meredith was the only other member of my team working in-person in Edinburgh. I had already struggled to connect with my coworkers based several hours away in our Aberdeenshire constituency, and this felt like the nail in the coffin.
She was gone before I knew it. The time I spent sitting alone at my desk seemed like an eternity. When I had questions or struggled with a task, there was no obvious place to turn for help.
I felt like an intruder playing pretend at being a parliamentary intern, and at times I wondered whether it was even worth coming in.
Although my situation wasn’t ideal, I was determined to overcome my isolation and connect with my team and with the parliament as a whole. A law school hopeful, I had travelled four and half thousand miles alone to get a foot in the door in the political world, and I wasn’t about to go down without a fight.
I joined weekly Zoom calls and group chats, getting to know the team dynamic and contributing when I could. I took advantage of the unique opportunities the parliament building offered, attending chamber debates and special events that introduced me to people from all areas of Scottish society. I approached some of the other teams in the building, developing friendships with everyone from ecologically-minded pro-independence converts to Catholic monarchists, learning about their unique perspectives and values. I took advantage of the opportunities I did have to connect with my own team in person, traveling across Scotland to attend the party conference and meeting them in person for a few short days. I did what I could to ensure my work was high-quality, prompt, and spoke for me.
My plan didn’t always go well—I struggled through awkward lunch conversations, attended events that weren’t meant for me, and produced some terrible drafts. But my efforts paid off.
I came to know my coworkers in spite of the distance, and they came to appreciate my efforts to support them. Rather than feeling stranded at the parliament building, my experience was enriched by the unique opportunities it offered.
The last two weeks of my internship were spent supporting campaign efforts in Aberdeenshire, entirely in person and based at my constituency office for the first time. Without my prior efforts, this experience could have been a series of awkward introductions with individuals who had little reason to take interest in a soon-to-depart American intern. But thanks to the months I’d spent building connections, it was more like a reunion.
The time we spent making phone calls to voters, distributing soggy pamphlets, eating local foods, and touring the constituency brought us closer as a team and as friends. When election day came, we celebrated together when the candidates we’d campaigned for took their places on Aberdeenshire council and lamented our friends that didn’t make it.
When I first heard that my supervisor would be leaving, I had worried that my isolation would leave me with no chance to develop meaningful professional connections during my internship. I proved those worries wrong, and left Aberdeenshire and Scotland with insistences that I keep in touch and the warm farewells of a team that otherwise might never have taken much notice of me.
Months later, as I began to assemble my applications for law school, my request for a letter of recommendation was met with a prompt, warm response and glowing reviews.
Although my time at the Scottish Parliament is finished, I am still drawing from the relationships and professional skills that I developed over that rainy Edinburgh winter. Sitting alone at my desk those first few weeks, I could never have anticipated the opportunities for growth that my seemingly less-than-ideal situation would bring me.
Written by Emma W, Scottish Parliament Internship 2022