I work for an organization at the intersection of defense politics and journalism. The first part matches my interests; the latter part matches my skills. I watch as young interns--interns who could not explain the prisoner's dilemma or decode the acronym EIT--tag along to think-tank events and sit in on meetings with legends in the field. I am tethered to my desk. I wait.
Perhaps I feel I am entitled. I'd like to think I don't, but I'd also like to think I'm entitled to something for doing the grunt work for so many years, for fighting for opportunities and creating lemonade without any lemons. Ben is trying so very hard, but he gets shot down from above. He is angry. I am tired.
I know that effort eventually results in reaching a goal. I know that I must wait, and I do, and I am, because there is really nothing else to do. Ben said, "You succeed early and you succeed often and eventually somebody notices." I feel as though people are noticing, slowly. The product of that notice will come later, I think. I know it will. It has to. I am waiting. I am ready.