When Keepin' It Real Goes Wrong

Keeping It Real - staying true to yourself, your faith, your life and constantly seeking the truth.
-- Urban Dictionary

When David Chappelle was still on television, one of my favorite sketches of his was "When Keepin' It Real Goes Wrong." The premise: a Chappelle character faces some kind of disrespect dilemma, which forces the person to make a choice. He or she can bend over like a folding chair, cave in to the situation by being all fake and shit, OR.... They can keep it REAL.

Chappelle's characters always choose to keep it real and hijinks ensue. Every single time they keep it real, they suffer unintended and distinctly negative consequences. That's when keepin' it real goes wrong. Here's an example:



I recently had my own Vernon Franklin "When Keeping It Real Goes Wrong" moment at work. You may live in a cave and therefore may not have noticed, but we are in the midst of an early political election season here in the U.S. of A. Ergo, a number of bigwigs at my firm have become enmeshed in the campaigns of various candidates, for one reason or another. Occasionally, we'll get an email asking us to help support a particular candidate if we are interested in doing so, either through a donation (always welcome, of course) or by volunteering time. I usually delete these upon receipt. My politics are my business and seeing this kind of thing at work just rubs me the wrong way. I'm there to do a job and earn a salary, not whore myself out to political candidates. I prefer to do that in the privacy of my own home.

So it was that I recently received such an email on behalf of a certain Republican candidate who shall remain nameless. I deleted it almost immediately and went back to work. But it didn't stop there. A couple of days later, whilst I was obtaining a nice cold beverage from down the hall, a partner from my practice subgroup visited my office seeking financial aid on behalf of this candidate. My assistant informed me of same upon my return, beverage in hand. I walked into my office and there, waiting for me on my chair was a one-page form with the candidate's name at the top in a ginormous font. Underneath, there were lines where you could write in how much you would like to donate -- $250, $500, $1000, $2000, etc. They were so flexible, they allowed you to pay by check, cash, money order, or with your Visa or Mastercard. Hell, they even took American Express.

It bears mentioning that I barely knew the partner who was making the rounds, trying to shake the cash out of my wallet. I'd met the guy once before in the most cursory fashion a year or so ago, when he joined the firm. Even though he's in my subgroup, I hadn't heard boo from this guy until he wanted my money. Riiiight.

Oh and the capper? To attend the firm "breakfast" with this candidate, they were asking for a $1000 minimum donation. A thousand dollars! Do you know how many murses I could buy with that money? How many Spiderman comic books? Sheeyit.

It goes without saying that I don't agree with a single thing [REPUBLICAN CANDIDATE X] stands for. How could I look at myself in the mirror on a daily basis if I gave this guy any money? Not to mention the fact that I rant on a regular basis about political issues on this blog and with people I know (often for much longer than they care to listen). Donating to this person would raise the specter of hypocrisy, to say the least.

After a brief consultation with my political ethics advisor, K.G., I threw the form in the trash. I KEPT IT REAL.

This is not to say that keeping it real was easy. I'm already known as kind of a blunt, opinionated, sometimes exceedingly prickly bastard around the office. That's "prickly," derivation of "prick." This incident's not going to help my rep at all. It's also not going to help my as-yet-utterly-futile partnership prospects any. Here's how I project the discussion will go at my next review:

"T., boy, we really wish you had played ball and donated to [REPUBLICAN CANDIDATE X]. You're not much of a TEAM PLAYER, are you T.? You're not a good 'firm citizen.' We really expect the leaders at this firm to stand up and be counted when the firm needs them. And we needed you T., but you weren't there for us, were you? You put your own 'personal politics,' your own needs, your own selfish interests, ahead of the FIRM and ITS needs. The firm doesn't like that, T. The firm encourages children, not single white men with uppity liberal attitudes. You're not partner material. Now go back to your desk and let us know when you feel more comfortable compromising yourself for the good of the firm."

My fears were realized a few days later when, on my way in to the office, I found myself alone in the elevator with the same said partner who tried to shake me down on behalf of [REPUBLICAN CANDIDATE X]. Cursed luck! Fortunately, he didn't recognize me, so I pretended not to know him either. Sometimes things work better that way. I got off at my floor and went to my office. Five minutes later, I was sitting down, chowing on a plastic cup of Frosted Mini-Wheats (not the plastic cup itself, the sugar frosted wheat goodness inside), when I looked up to see the same said partner poke his head in my office doorway, briefcase in hand. He didn't say a word. Not hello, not how are you, nothing. He just gave me this sort of smirky half-smile that said "Now I know who you are. Hahahahaha!!!" Then he turned around and walked the other way. The whole thing lasted no more than three seconds, but it was enough to send my imagination into a paranoid tailspin.

When Keepin' It Real Goes Wrong.

On second thought, screw him. Screw all of them. As Mr. Pacino once said: "I'm out of order?! YOU'RE out of order!!! The whole fucking system's out of order!!!" Being a lawyer is an exercise in compromising oneself. You're a hired gun. You represent clients you may not agree with. You sacrifice family time, leisure time, private time, all for your career's sake. You have to set boundaries somewhere, personal lines that can't be crossed, or you going to be a shill that no one, including yourself, respects. The lines are different for everyone, but this was one of mine.

When Keepin' It Real Goes Right.

WU-TANG!!!!