The People of The Golden Dome
- Dan
- Dec 2
- 2 min read
Updated: 5 days ago
Every time we drive through Des Moines, which is often for many Iowa residents, my attention is drawn to the gold-covered top of the Iowa State Capitol building. I've never been inside of it, but every family vacation growing up, every work trip to Des Moines and beyond, I look at that gleaming dome as we pass by.
I remember being so fascinated by the fact that it's covered by real actual gold. It seemed impossibly extravagant when I was a kid and my parents told me about it. I've since learned that the gold covering it is impossibly thin gold leaf, which is no thicker than a sheet of paper. I looked it up and found out that it's about 100 oz total of 23-karat gold, that's been there since the 1800s. At current market prices as of this writing (November 2025), it's worth about $200,000. Not a small amount, but also not the pure gold castle it appears to be.
I think one reason I wanted to draw it was the nostalgia associated with that building and those memories of it. Another reason is the story behind that iconic golden roof, and something I thought about after my wife was invited to a government session there last year.
Spoiler alert: It didn't quite live up to the gold-coated exterior.
Don't get me wrong, the photos she sent me of the building interior are gorgeous. Library walls of books, decorative plaster work on every ceiling and wall. It's a building that any architect would appreciate, and every Iowan should be proud of.
The business conducted inside it, though, is a mixed bag. There are arguments on the floor between people who do not actually understand the issues they argue for. There's time wasted on keeping up appearances. There's money wasted on bureaucracy.
At the very same time, there are conversations in the hallway between people who want to work together despite being on opposing parties. There are impassioned pleas made by people who are passionate about doing what's best for the people they represent.
I think what's easy to forget when looking at the gold-coated exterior, and similar buildings across our nation, is that they house people. People who are more complex, and flawed, and human than we often give them grace to be. They are more than the R, I, or D beside their name on the placard. They are more than the party lines that attempt to define them.
I wonder if we spent more time speaking with these folks who represent us, encouraging them, even praying for them, we might recover some grace for them.
I wonder if that kind of posture might also create a space for us to hold those same people accountable on the things that matter most. Also, knowing you're being watched by people who know you, and not just keyboard warriors, seems to instill a healthy respect for the folks you represent.
Maybe this piece can serve as a regular reminder to look past the building exterior, and remember the human beings within.
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