When Roll Call’s debut edition came off the printing press in 1955, Rep. Harold Rogers was just a teenager. Now the dean of the House, the Kentucky Republican has seen plenty of change since arriving in 1981. 

Or, maybe not.

Twenty-three terms. Presidents come and they go. Legislation becomes law. In fact, President Donald Trump is on track to sign an anti-drug-trafficking measure Rogers co-sponsored to permanently reclassify fentanyl to get the highest criminal penalty. The communication methods the congressman’s office uses today surely would seem alien to his inaugural staff of 44 years ago, but the day-to-day work hasn’t changed all that much. 

As I started to reflect on Roll Call’s 70 years as the community newspaper of Capitol Hill, I kept returning to the idea of perception versus reality.

Perception: Washington is broken. 

Reality: Well, let me come back to that one. 

In May, I took 11 of my USC Annenberg students on a career trek through the nation’s capital, showing them all the city has to offer. I wrote in this space ahead of the trip that I have mixed feelings about the city I called home for so long, and I arrived not sure what to expect or if I was right about how much opportunity might await them if they move to D.C.

I was pleasantly surprised. With each day’s activity, I found myself feeling renewed gratitude for the people doing the everyday tasks to keep government running. I was comforted by the familiar corridors of the Capitol, which remains just as beautiful and full of promise as ever.

The reality for me is something I used to believe wholeheartedly but had started to doubt over the last 10 years I’ve lived in California: Most people want to do good in the world. 

Yes, things are bad right now. It’s hard to watch some of the intellectual dishonesty coming from members of Congress who I know don’t really believe what they are saying on cable news. And the steady erosion of civility stinks.

But — and this is a big one — Congress remains a community. Dysfunctional, sure. But there’s an unmistakable we’re-in-this-together feeling that I still find comforting. 

Rep. Gerald E. Connolly died the day I took my students around the Capitol. From lawmakers and staff to journalists, each and every person they met mentioned the Virginia Democrat — this was a collective loss. Even a few days later, as Rep. Gil Cisneros, a California Democrat, took us onto the House floor, the students were moved by the flowers and black drape that remained in the chamber in Connolly’s honor. 

I talked with Rep. Zoe Lofgren about all she’s seen in her tenure. The California Democrat said she believes people were more serious when she started working on Capitol Hill as an aide in the 1970s. 

She pins the start of the decline on the era defined by former Speaker Newt Gingrich, R-Ga., which she said ushered in the concept of “theatrics” instead of working on legislation. Some of the rhetoric that started in the mid-1990s had been unheard of before then, and now seems almost quaint, she said.

“With Trump as president we’re at an all-time low in terms of thoughtful action and deliberate thought,” Lofgren said. 

Even Lofgren, first elected in 1994 and among the longest-serving members of the California delegation, said there are areas of bipartisan work getting done quietly beneath the rancor and fast-and-furious news cycle sparked by the Trump administration. She noted her service as ranking member on the House Science, Space, and Technology Committee.

“When you can accomplish something worthwhile, it’s very rewarding. Sometimes it’s legislatively and sometimes it’s getting things done for individuals and institutions in your district,” she said. 

Lofgren acknowledges the House is in transition, given that nearly half of today’s members have served fewer than five years. I asked about that contrast given the age and double-digit terms of some Democratic elders. Some in that crowd are “transitioning out and mentoring newbies,” she said. 

Lofgren wouldn’t give me any details about what that mentorship looks like other than they use Signal chats and offer informal sharing of perspectives and experience. “You want to balance the energy and freshness with knowing the ropes,” she said.

I really wanted to talk with Reps. Ken Calvert and Darrell Issa, the two longest-serving California Republicans, but no luck. 

I did chat for awhile with Issa’s communications director and deputy chief of staff, Jonathan Wilcox.

Perception: The press could do better. He identifies tidbit journalism done by congressional reporters “lurking around corners” as among the problems with the media.

Reality: In my day, I did plenty of chasing through those hallways, and I posted many a scooplet on my Twitter feed. I guess I feel OK about myself now because I own up to how I evolved as a journalist, and also teach my students a better way. 

An undercovered issue, Wilcox said, was how the sense of congressional togetherness was so quickly shredded during the Covid-19 pandemic. He said he can trace some of today’s problems to proxy voting, Zoom hearings and telework. He blames then-Speaker Nancy Pelosi for what he labeled the “astonishing mistake” of allowing proxies.

“To bring the Congress together you have to bring the Congress together,” Wilcox said. “That’s dysfunction; no one has talked about that.”

Back when I was editor-in-chief of Roll Call, I perceived its founder Sid Yudain as a bit of a hero. He embodied the idea of the Capitol Hill community, starting the paper in 1955 having been an aide to a freshman Republican from Connecticut. As I learned more about Yudain’s journalistic efforts and read those yellowed pages of yesteryear, the reality was less flattering.

In my final column for Roll Call as editor-in-chief 10 years ago, I wrote for the newsroom’s 60th anniversary that, just like Congress, there are darker marks in the paper’s history I was less proud of.

“We had scant coverage of the Civil Rights Act or the Voting Rights Act, but we managed to keep cute Hill aides prominently in our pages for nearly two decades,” reads the column, still on my wall in my office at the University of Southern California. 

I concluded that I could forgive Yudain for the regular “Hill Pinup” feature that lasted at least until 1972, in part because I was so grateful for the sense of community he brought to the Capitol. 

Ten years later, I’m wondering how we can all be stewards of that community. It starts with attempting to reclaim the idea of a shared reality in politics. 

What would Yudain think of today’s Congress? I’m guessing he would be surprised that 29 percent of lawmakers are women, or that more than a quarter of the members are minorities, even though that’s still not in line with the population. He probably wouldn’t mind the way journalists report from their phones while waiting for members in the hallways, but I bet he would be disappointed by how little common ground appears in the public square.

Here’s my challenge to Congress for the next 10 years: Show your friendships. We hear in whispers all the time how many of you have friends across the aisle — how about you start standing together and remind the community why you’re there.