There\u2019s a hard truth in life, and I learned it the long, slow, and silent way: if you don\u2019t speak up for yourself, you\u2019ll be passed over, stepped on, and probably volunteered to clean up after someone else\u2019s kugel spill.<\/p>\n
As I wrote in Full Circle, back in my teenage years at Young People\u2019s Synagogue at East Midwood Jewish Center, I played the role of the dutiful nice guy. You know, the one who showed up early, stayed late, and never got the title\u2014kind of like the unpaid intern who\u2019s somehow also your carpool ride.<\/p>\n
Leadership roles were doled out like parts in a high school musical directed by someone\u2019s passive-aggressive older cousin. The person assigning them? A college student named Adam. And every year, Adam gave me the same role: guy who does everything and gets nothing. He made people co-officers who didn\u2019t even show up. He passed me over for president like it was a sacred tradition.<\/p>\n
And what did I do? Nothing. I sat there quietly, like a mensch with a clipboard, smiling through clenched teeth and rationalizing, \u201cMaybe next year.\u201d Spoiler: next year never came.<\/p>\n
Fast forward a couple of decades, and the stakes are a little higher now than who leads Shabbat announcements. I\u2019m running my own law firm, negotiating retainers, and trying to deliver ERISA compliance without losing my mind\u2014or my voice.<\/p>\n
So when a client recently slighted me, again and again\u2014ignoring my reasonable request to revise a retainer agreement\u2014I remembered Adam. And I remembered that feeling. The one where you know you\u2019re being taken for granted, but you stay silent because it\u2019s easier.<\/p>\n
Only this time, I wasn\u2019t seventeen.<\/p>\n
This time, I said something. Actually, I said everything. I warned one of the client\u2019s employees, \u201cI\u2019ve got one foot out the door.\u201d A week later, I picked up the other foot and walked.<\/p>\n
I quit. And it felt\u2026 amazing. Liberating. Like finally being promoted to president of a synagogue you no longer care about.<\/p>\n
Here\u2019s the truth: no one\u2019s coming to rescue you. No one\u2019s handing you the title, the recognition, or the revised contract. If you\u2019re waiting for fairness to find you, it\u2019s probably stuck in traffic behind a bar mitzvah procession.<\/p>\n
So speak up. For your fees. For your worth. For your teenage self who should have gotten the gavel instead of the handout flyer duty.<\/p>\n
Because being silent doesn\u2019t make you righteous\u2014it just makes you invisible.<\/p>\n
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