Why won't the ACLU return my phone calls? I run to the mailbox every day hoping that a letter will arrive offering me a fantastic paid internship with all kinds of perks. Instead, I pull out yellow envelopes from Harvard Telephone Services and Citibank Visa which add to my ever-growing pile of debt. I wait by the phone hoping for an intern coordinator to call asking me for an interview. My phone had two messages the last time that I checked--one from my mother and the other from my bank asking me to pay a delinquent bill.

I applied for a summer internship over three months ago and I still haven't heard from any of the places I applied to. Waiting for a response about a summer internship is a long and agonizing experience. Each day passes without the letter and without the phone call while I am left biting my nails contemplating a summer spent working at Banana Republic.

I have been waiting for approximately three months and I am starting to develop a weird neck twitch from the anxiety and the fear. January, February and March have begun to blur into one long, cold waiting period. While I have not yet had sleepless nights in which I stars at my ceiling anxious about my summer, I know that they are coming soon. I am constantly assuring myself not to worry and to stop demonstrating obsessive-compulsive behavior--an internship, any internship will come. My friends no longer bring up the topic of summer plans because I tend to start randomly screaming, "No, I don't know what I am doing for the summer!"

The search for a summer internship began early for me. Last year I had waited until the very last minute to apply and ended up with a limited number of options. While I loved my internship and my entire Washington D.C. experience, I still wanted this summer to be different. I wanted to be able to choose from a wide array of internships including NOW, ACLU and the NAACP. Each one would offer me the chance to work in a politically charged environment in which I would actually be able to bring about significant societal change, or at least get coffee and mail letters for those who bring about significant societal change.

I sent away for applications full of hope and anticipation, wrote creative, well-organized essays about my involvement with campus activism and mailed off the completed applications. Two days later I began to worry: What if the post office had lost my applications on the road? What if Bridger & Sons had already hired all of their applicants for the summer? What if the Senate decided it didn't need me? Rather than worry myself with these persisting, unanswered questions, I decided to worry the intern coordinators. I was reassured that my applications were "pending approval," and they told me to just wait.

Every summer we each go through the frenetic summer internship process in which the job search becomes a major source of stress and delight. For some it is the corporate route with dreams of Goldman Sachs and Merril Lynch while others pursue publishing or broadcast journalism. We apply to the Newsweeks, the Times and the Vogues intent on getting just one article published.

One of my blockmates is looking at the fashion industry, another at the State Department, but each is concerned with making sure she has the best and most challenging internship for her summer. Often the search turns bitter with two friends applying for the same public interest or advocacy job.

Last year my friend and I applied to the NAACP, each jealously guarding any information we had about the internship. I even hid the fact that I was rejected, only later to find out that she was as will. Yet, I am sure that this will not be the last incident of clandestine internship activities for me or my friend.

Many people I know currently in the internship search plan to "pimp" their Harvard name, believing that their status as Harvard students will open up every opportunity. Unfortunately, that Harvard name can only get one so far.

Sure, some people can use the name to get the interview, but will they really get the job? Most of the employers that I know couldn't care less about where I go to college; instead they want to know what activities I have been involved with and would willingly take a student from any college provided they had led some huge social movement. NOW does not want to hear about my Harvard experience; it wants to know if I am a women's studies concentrator or how I have advanced the concerns of women on this campus. While some students may be able to exploit Harvard's name, I and others are forced to turn instead to beefing up our resumes with lists of mysterious organizations.

There is no moral to the story of the belated internship, just as there are no instructions or advice that I can offer intrepid internship seekers. This is merely the story of one among many students who waits for a letter offering congratulations or complete rejection. I have tried everything possible, including daily harassing phone calls to staffers, and I still await an answer. When you look around at others in section, realize that they too are harboring secret fears about letters or e-mail message. Like myself, they too are hiding failures from parents, friends or roommates. Perhaps as you read this I will have received my phone call of glory carrying me into the promised summer job land. Then again, I might be filling out an application for McDonald's.

Kamil E. Redmond '00 is a history and literature and women's studies concentrator in Pforzheimer House.