As I write this, one of NBC’s – and America’s – greatest television series is drawing to a close after a 7-year successful run on the small screen. While the UK still have the better half of the final season of The West Wing to be aired, the series draws closer to a (decidedly hopeful) end in the US, with Democratic presidential hopeful Matthew Santos (played wonderfully by Jimmy Smits, I might add) winning the seat of the ‘most powerful man in the world’, thus extending the myths of the ideal White House. Despite the tragic and shocking loss of actor John Spencer last December, who plays Chief of Staff, Leo McGarry to the Bartlett presidency, and later running mate to Matt Santos. A beloved character and actor whom mere words probably can’t do much justice to.

The West Wing, for me, was, is, first and foremost a pedagogical text. Even though I came by it because I was curious of the whispers in fandom. Of how the professional/personal relationship that is brimming with sexual tension and intelligent banter between Josh (Bradley Whitford) and Donna (Janel Maloney) reminds fans of another career-minded, highly-intelligent couple who also happens to work for the US Federal government. While I became a fan of the show because of two characters who reminded me of my absolute favourite fictional characters, The West Wing became more. It became a text for a politically apathetic girl like me to learn. Not just about US politics, but about the politics of governing at the same time. While it did not made me into a passionate believer of government overnight, it taught me about issues and policies I assumed were too complex for me to learn about. The one important thing the show did, and set out to do, I believe, is to show the human side of politics. Of governing.

Like other fans and viewers, I was swept into the lives of the White House staffers, their struggles, their fights and more importantly, their weaknesses. For 7 years, Jed Bartlett (the brilliant Martin Sheen) became an epitome of the ‘perfect alternate universe’ – if only politicians and world leaders learned the nobility and the sincerity Jed Bartlett and his staff possess and try to fight for at every turn. But then, what do I know of politics, right?

But I do know what I like. Having characters who intrigue, fascinate and frustrate the hell out of me at the same time helped. Because I’m a fan, and I love subtext! And good writing couldn’t hurt the show either. For as Deputy Communications Director, Sam Seaborn (Rob Lowe) professed:

“Oratory should raise your heart rate. Oratory should blow the doors off the place.”

And it did – raise my heart rate and got me excited because like sitting down in the dark to watch my weekly dosage of The X-Files, I was learning something from a television show that does not assume from the get go that the audience members are stupid and only interested in the soap opera elements of a show. And trust me, if I wanted that, I’d be watching Neighbours still. Of course, seeing Josh and Donna finally admitting they’re in love with each other helps a bit, because at least, this is one ending that isn’t tinged with a bittersweet aftertaste that tears at the strings of your heart afterwards. That beyond the random dark hotel room in New Mexico, the world is not ending on December 22nd, 2012 and one character hasn’t just given up her one chance at motherhood in order to save her son and the man she loves at the same time.

While Mulder and Scully will always, always remain my absolute favourite, Josh and Donna come in a close second. I shall always remember the 90s with my discovery of The X-Files in Australia, and The West Wing in the UK. Once the latter draws to a close in a few weeks’ time in the US, an era of great, intelligent television that precipitated current favourites like Lost and House will also end.