It was all the little things.

How H-210, the House Speaker’s Ceremonial Office, was so quiet during Nancy Pelosi’s weekly news conference Thursday that you had to strain to hear her voice over the hum of the Capitol ventilation system.

How she smiled – smiled – as she entered a room packed with about two dozen journalists, and even greeted them as she stepped up to the lectern. (“Good morning,” Pelosi said. “Good morning,” replied the press corps.)

And how, when it came time for questions, “Madam Speaker,” as she’s reverently called, took them one at a time from the reporters, who’d even raised their hands for the occasion.

Oh, the civility!

I’ve had a hard time adjusting to the journalistic manners of Washington since moving here from Chicago in September.  I spent the summer as a news intern for Chicago Public Radio, which meant I spent a lot of time on the Fifth Floor of City Hall. That’s where Chicago’s long-time mayor, Richard M. Daley, holds many of his news briefings, which are at times, well, sub-civil.

Salty Prairie State political reporters like to say, with more than a little pride, that Illinois politics are a “full-contact sport.” The phrase is hyperbole, of course – though not by much.

So tense was the mood in Chicago surrounding Roland Burris’ controversial appointment to the U.S. Senate, for example, that at one event a local TV reporter and a Burris aide nearly came to fisticuffs until the latter was restrained by a colleague.

Former Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojeich’s first post-impeachment news briefing in Chicago was a chaotic thrash of shouted questions, audible cursing and a final bum rush to the lectern when Blagojevich fled through a side door to avoid speaking to the press.

At the city level, Mayor Daley routinely will come to his press briefings armed with a photocopy of a news article he deems unfair, its most offending phrases marked with highlighter.  It’s not uncommon for him to take a moment at the lectern, smack in the middle of some ribbon-cutting ceremony, to dress down an individual reporter and demand that his or her publication run a correction.

And to be fair, Chicago reporters aren’t afraid to return the favor, often shouting questions over each other and even over the elected official they’re covering.

Coming from such a sweaty, sharp-elbowed journalistic climate, I’ve found myself wondering recently: How do I pose a question to the woman second in line for the U.S. presidency? And what if I don’t like her answer?

“This is the place for passive aggression,” one veteran Capitol Hill reporter told our class during our first visit to the Senate Daily Press Gallery.

In my brief career in journalism, I’ve grown used to Illinois-style aggressive aggression.  I have a lot to learn about working inside the Beltway.

But for now, I’ll just be sure to raise my hand.

Alex Keefe, one of two political reporters for Medill Washington, got his start in journalism at WVIK-FM, the National Public Radio station in Rock Island, Ill. His voice has been heard on NPR newscasts, as well as All Things Considered and Morning Edition. He also writes regularly for Politics Daily and McClatchy. Set to graduate from Medill in December, Keefe wrote this opinion piece for Washington Reporting 2.0., an occasional column about the experience of reporting.