Settling in

“Should I sit or should I stand?” asks one young aide in a municipally bland briefing room on the first floor of Richmond’s Pocahontas Building last week. She decides to stand along the wall, fidgeting with her boss’s cell phone.

Another pair of aides debates the merits of the podium features, as compared with the ones in the briefing room at the old General Assembly Building, which is now in the midst of a renovation.

It’s the first press conference of the Virginia General Assembly session for these House of Delegates Democrats and their aides – on their voting-related bills – and the first ever for a handful of new representatives.

“Everyone deserves an equal opportunity to vote,” says Henrico County Delegate Debra Rodman (73rd District) when it’s her turn, explaining her two bills to the press pool.

“All these rock star freshmen coming in here,” says veteran Del. Mark Sickles (43rd District-Fairfax County) when Rodman finishes. “It’s gonna be a lot of fun.”

That’s the prevailing sentiment this week, with the session just beginning.

After whirlwind campaigns and, for some, surprising victories, in which newcomers ousted longtime incumbents, Virginia’s 100 House of Delegates members are now tasked with legislating. But to do so, they must set aside their day jobs and leave their families for long hours – for 60 busy days. There are offices to run, constituents to hear, bills to understand, colleagues to confer with, and, somewhere in there, votes to cast.

From subcommittee hearings that start at 7 a.m., during which many of the big decisions are made, to full body votes on the floor of the House, to evening and weekend gatherings where they’re expected to make an appearance, new legislators are in for a feverish first session.

“Just the pure rush of it once it starts,” says Delegate Schulyer VanValkenburg (72nd District), a 35-year-old government teacher from Glen Allen High School. “Even if you know it’s coming, you still don't know what’s coming. It’s very fast days, a lot of movement. It takes a minute to get up to speed.”

He’s enjoying seeing the process he’s taught for so many years firsthand – in the concrete rather than in the abstract.

Getting acclimated
There are eight delegates who represent Henrico County, four of whom are freshmen legislators this year. Of those four, only Rodman’s and VanValkenburg’s districts are entirely in Henrico. Both flipped a Republican-held seat for the Democrats, both are educators, and both have young children at home.

Up on the fourth floor of the Pocahontas Building, a few desk photos of his family are the only decoration in VanValkenburg’s sparse office so far.

“We got the office keys on Friday of last week, on the last day of orientation,” he says. “And I took that last weekend off, before doing anything, to have family time before this craziness.”

Almost immediately after the election, new members begin a General Assembly orientation that lasts several weeks. Freshmen of both parties, including Delegates John McGuire (56th District) and Dawn Adams (68th) – whose districts each include portions of Henrico – learn protocol, rules and how to do things like file bills. They also draw a lottery for seniority within the freshmen ranks. VanValkenburg was lucky, drawing a pretty high number, which affords him an earlier choice of office and seat on the chamber floor.

VanValkenburg reports that he snagged a seat next to Del. Jeff Bourne (71st District) and looks forward to pestering him with questions.

On the Friday before Governor Ralph Northam's inauguration, VanValkenburg takes a moment to ask his aide, Emily Bruzzo, to add a post-inaugural brunch to his weekend calendar, and they ponder whether the clerk’s office is in this building or the Capitol, as the delegate needs to pick something up.

Legislative aides like Bruzzo often compose the front lines of constituent services and represent the legislator’s interest in absentia. Delegates are given about $57,000 to pay any number of staffers they choose, but only one can get benefits. (A delegate's salary, on the other hand, is $17,640.)

Already steeped in the minutiae of state government processes, VanValkenburg chose Bruzzo from a number of folks active in his campaign who expressed an interest.

Rodman says she interviewed about 20 great candidates before she decided on her legislative aide, Katie O’Grady, who had formerly worked in the Virginia Senate.

“I wanted somebody who is going to be personable, so she could do good constituent services, but also who knew the lay of the land in the state legislature,” Rodman says. “[That O’Grady had institutional knowledge] was very important to me.”

Don’t quit your day job
As for that decidedly part-time delegates’ salary, both she and VanValkenburg are keeping their day jobs.

Rodman, 45, will miss about a third of the semester at Randolph-Macon College, where she’s an associate professor of anthropology and women’s studies,and someone will cover her classes until the General Assembly session is over.

Everyone at the college has been very supportive and excited for her new part-time job, she says, especially after the win. “Everyone else, maybe they weren’t sure I was going to win,” she says, laughing.

While the Ashland college has become a bit of an incubator for elected officials and candidates – RMC professor Dave Brat unseated Seventh District Congressman Eric Cantor in a Republican primary in June 2014, then defeated fellow RMC professor Jack Trammell that November to win the U.S. House seat – VanValkenburg’s school was a little newer to accommodating such a schedule.

“I’m pretty sure they’d never had to do it,” he says. “So when I first emailed them, it was like, ‘Ah we’ll see if you can do this.’”

But he says the Henrico County public school has been great, working out a long-term substitute for his classes. He’ll go off payroll while he’s gone, but his job is safe – similar to paternity leave.

Rodman and VanValkenburg taught full time while they campaigned last year, which Rodman says was harder than now, where she can concentrate on legislating.

“Campaigning was exhausting,” she says. “It was brutal.”

Rodman will continue to take on asylum cases, too, acting as an expert witness on country conditions and writing affidavits for people fleeing violence in Central America. “So like many other delegates, I’ll still be doing a little work on the side to help people who need it,” she says.

‘I am here for them’
Rodman drew number 100 in the seniority lottery, and so, dead last, she occupies the smallest office the Pocahontas Building has to offer.

No matter, though, she says. Paintings from Guatemala, where she does her academic research, lean against the wall, waiting to be hung. Rodman is eager, she says, to have office art that speaks to her district and the diversity of Henrico.

Both VanValkenburg and Rodman say they rely on advice from other Henrico delegates like Bourne, Lamont Bagby (74th) and Delores McQuinn (70th).

Rodman also cites the resources of Henrico leaders like Courtney Lynch, the new Henrico Board of Supervisors member from the Brookland District, and John Vithoulkas, the county manager. She looks to mentors like Betsy Carr, a longtime delegate who represents parts of Chesterfield County and Richmond in the 69th District, and Lashrecse Aird, a 31-year-old who represents Petersburg's 63rd District, as well as fellow freshmen class women.

“So many people have offered to help that sometimes I don't know who to call,” says Rodman.

After the press conference on election bills, Rodman rides the elevator to her second-floor office with another delegate, musing on the dining options nearby.

“Downtown is somewhere, as a Henrico person, that you go to maybe at night for like a special dinner,” Rodman says later. “So for me, being here in daytime, it’s like a whole other world.”

Still, it’s only a 14-minute drive, she says, and she can get home to her kids every night. Legislators more than 40 miles away from the capital are given a per diem, and most stay in Richmond for the session.

“That’s the beauty of living in Henrico,” VanValkenburg says.

“Other freshmen who had to leave their kids, they’re really struggling,” Rodman says, noting that she and other legislators have plans for legislation to make serving in the General Assembly more accessible.

Rodman has a 5-year-old and 8-year-old. “We’ve explained that they won’t see me in the daytime, but I still come home to sleep,” she says.

When they’re not sleeping, both Rodman and VanValkenburg are keen to be accessible to their constituents, knowing the hectic, short session doesn’t always lend itself to public process, and hope that constituents will keep in touch with them via email newsletters.

“I want people to know that I am here for them,” Rodman says. “I take public service seriously, and I’ll be working really hard for them, whether they voted for me or not. And as soon as session ends, I will be out there.”