Sitting around a modest table in a meeting room looking out onto Parliament Square, I listened intently as the shadow ministerial team chatted about their plans for the (then) forthcoming general election. A far cry from what I imagined conversations like this to be, the team chatted and joked over coffee as they thrashed out manifesto priorities, mulling over what would be popular and what might struggle to win votes in May.
I knew before I started that my boss was a shadow minister, but had little idea of what this really meant. In theory, MPs are in Parliament to serve their constituents but many have other responsibilities that can range from heading up all-party groups, championing a cause from the backbenches, or taking on a ministerial role. Despite my three years studying politics at degree level, I had no idea that MPs had so many demands on their time and I realised quickly that my degree had done little to prepare me for the reality of working in Westminster.
So my first lesson was to perfect the role of an intern; the art of being useful without irritating your colleagues and nowhere is this more necessary than in the office of a shadow minister during the run up to a General Election. I memorised the daily office routine, which is governed by the times the House sits and realised that the most important element is the one I underestimated - the diary; without which it all falls apart.
In most offices the role of diary secretary is a full-time job and an important part of an internship - for good reason. I was taught to carefully balance the compulsory votes in the House with any shadow responsibilities and then constituency time on top of that, making sure that each appointment was fully recorded on the computer. Unfortunately, during my first week responsible for the diary I messed up by making an appointment for Anne to meet 40 pensioners from the constituency but forgetting to book a room. Subsequently, at 10.30am on a rainy Monday morning, a coach full of pensioners arrived in Westminster Palace and phoned up to ask where to go. Anyone who has ever made a mistake like this will recognise the hot panic that rushes over you when you realise it's all gone wrong and this particular mistake resulted in me leading them, tour guide style, through the Palace to Portcullis House where they squeezed, ever-so politely, onto three small benches. In the end, the group were so pleased with their impromptu tour of Westmsinter and the chance to chat to their MP, that the room didn't really matter - but it was a mistake I haven't made since.
As well as eventually mastering diary management, in my second month as an intern I began to understand the reality of being in opposition. British politics is often summed up in complicated sound bites, accompanied by snippets of PMQs where sniping politicians score points with little regard for their audience. But watching Westminster politics open up before my eyes, I was surprised to witness cross-party friendships and MPs working together. As I had expected, there were those who felt strongly about some issues, but most politicians regardless of party could find common ground somewhere – even if it was only the All Party Parliamentary Beer Group.
It was during my second month in Westminster that on a tour of the House of Commons a doorkeeper told me an anecdote about the dispatch boxes in the chamber – where MPs stand to address the House. The brass plates on the corners of these boxes have been worn away by sweat over time, but those on the government side are much more worn than the Opposition and completely smooth to the touch. The implication being that governments sweat over defending their decisions while the opposition poses questions without being held to account. Of course in reality the relationship is much more complex, with opposition parties often footing the blame for mistakes of past, present and future alike. But if my second month in Westminster taught me anything, it was that the biggest mistake you can make is to make an assumption. As a politics graduate I began my internship thinking that I knew my stuff, but by my second month everything I thought I knew had gone straight out the window and I had to start learning about politics from scratch, with a completely new perspective.
Top tips
- If you aren't sure, ask.
- Don't underestimate anything: what might seem like an insignificant job is often the most important - like the role of diary secretary.
- Put your time at university to good use – get some work experience in your local constituency office or offer to help during a local election campaign to give your CV a boost, a degree is great but it's only the start.
