Before my National Review interview, I received many ominous warnings about how “they” would “grill” me on my ideas, and that I needed to have opinions on solid ground. When I hopped on the phone with Jason Steorts, I was ready for a challenge. We spoke for an hour or so about ideas, yet I did not feel like I was in a fight. Instead, I felt more engaged than ever, piecing together today’s politics with a fellow writer. What is right? What is good? What is true? Why? None of that “what’s your biggest strength?” nonsense. No, there were bigger things to talk about, and I was humbled before questions that mattered.
When I started my internship, I was humbled day after day, listening to world-class writers discuss these questions at length and apply their insights to current events. As a college student, I hear a lot about “your truth.” As a National Review intern, I hear far more about the truth. My colleagues — your writers — are not cynics. They are sincerely concerned about the nation and world.
Even though the people here have a demanding mission, I was fortunate to find that they were willing to advise a young writer. Luther Abel sent me a self-made, pages-long guide to working at NR. Phil Klein helped me choose what issues to cover. Judson Berger and Jack Crowe gave me at-length writing advice. Jessica Hornik Evans shared her cultural insights and listened to mine. Noah Rothman encouraged me with career wisdom (and article retweets). Over lunch, Jay Nordlinger and Maddy Kearns explained how one can be an ethical, even virtuous, journalist. Dominic Pino and Jimmy Quinn, too, had lunch with me to ensure that I felt welcome. Andrew Stuttaford and Jack Butler hung out with us interns in the conference room that we took over (and dubbed “the war room”).
Speaking of interns, what a pleasure it was to get to know these witty young men — and, thanks to their conservative chivalry, to never have to open the door for myself! Jonathan Nicastro and I argued more than once on the Corner but nevertheless enjoyed a shared positivity bias. The combination of Scott Howard’s low tone and my poor hearing made for a running joke. (I learned a ton from what I did hear Scott say.) Natan Ehrenreich kindly kept up with and complimented my work. And, despite my distaste for Harvard, if I had to choose one of their students to be president of the United States one day, I’d nominate the suave Alex Hughes. We had a blast getting to know each other and befriending the NRI staff (who also had lunch with us regularly).
I could go on, but as I finish my time here, all I’ll say is that I owe much to National Review. The people here have taught me to write with clarity, balance, and passion, all while cultivating an environment that encourages young writers to grow as people. It is heartening to see Bill Buckley’s legacy alive and well.