Ode to My Daughter on her Bat Mitzvah

What can I tell you about my daughter, Marie-Claire Isabella Goldfarb?
I can tell you about her brilliance, her beauty, and her talent.
But what I most want to tell you about is her loving and generous heart.

Macie is the kind of girl who insists on finding out about your day before telling you about hers.
She is the kind of girl who goes out of her way to communicate with people so they don't get their feelings hurt or feel left out.
She is the kind of girl who speaks sweetly to little children,
who rush up to and ask her for hugs and attention.

They all know her name.

Macie has always had a mind of her own since before she was even born.
Macie was scheduled to arrive in this world via C-section on a Tuesday.
But, Macie, in a move that would prove to be true to her form,
decided she would rather make her debut on Monday instead.

It has pretty much been that way ever since.

Now I knew in my heart before Macie was even born,
the way that a mother just knows,
that Macie would be a beautiful and highly intelligent little ballerina girl.
My husband of course was convinced we were having a boy.

That's why they call it "MOTHER'S intuition."

We couldn't confirm Macie's gender before she was born, of course,
Because again Macie decided not to cooperate during sonograms.
She would sit in such a way that we could never verify what or who she would be.
She was going to come into this world in her own time and in her own way.
Upon being born, the doctor placed Macie in my arms.

My very first words to her were, "So when are we going to start ballet lessons?"

I actually would have accepted it completely
if Macie had decided to be a soccer or softball player or gymnast
instead of a dancer.
However, Macie was dancing as soon as she was moving
and had perfect rhythm from the start.
It's not like I made her be a dancer.

I think we have already established that Macie does everything on her own terms.

What I also love about my daughter is her dedication and determination.
Macie is determined to do an excellent job in all of her endeavors.
She works very hard at whatever she sets her mind to.

Macie has consistently been a straight A student
even though she claims she doesn't like school.

She doesn't have to be told to do her homework.
She just does it.

She didn't have to be told to practice for her bat mitzvah.
She just did it.

She DOES have to be told to help with the laundry, however.
Although sometimes she WILL surprise me.

Everybody loves Macie.

She goes out of her way to be nice to people and reach out to those around her.
Younger children gather around her.
Older teens enjoy her company.
Her friends' parents like having her around because she is so polite
and because she will carry on a conversation with them
as if THEY were people TOO.

Macie is very sensitive and empathic.
She has a natural way with animals as well as people.
A few summers ago we went to a horse ranch in Wyoming.
Macie was by far the best one of us at controlling her horse.
There was even a contest in who could get the most cattle in the pen.
Macie, of course, got all of the cattle penned in no time.

We also call Macie "The Dog Whisperer"
because she is the one who can get the dogs to do anything.
Dogs won't walk? Macie will get them moving.
Dogs won't eat? Macie will coax them into eating the whole bowl of kibble.

Macie claims she does NOT want to be a lawyer when she grows up.
Yet Macie makes the most well thought out and articulated arguments
as to why she should get one special privilege or another.
Sometimes I grant her request just because she has made such a wonderfully coherent
and well-reasoned argument that I can't bring myself to deny her.

I am not sure what Macie will do with her life,
but I am pretty certain it will be something amazing.
What I want most for her is to live life authentically
and on her own terms.

I don't think we have anything to worry about.

Growing Up Running for Office

         Deratany family lore actually has it that I was a painfully shy and quiet child until, at the age of 8, I started having to campaign door-to-door for my father as he ran for a seat in the Florida Legislature in 1978. Then again, you could argue that I had already been working on political campaigns since before I was born.

In 1969, my father owned a barbershop in the center of the Town of Indialantic, where he pretty much held court among all the gentlemen in the area, who would come in and linger to gossip and talk politics. I know this not only because my father tells me it is true, but because even now any time I meet a man over the age of 35 from the Melbourne area, he will inevitably mention how he used to get his hair cut by my dad or one of my uncles in the old barbershop and how it used to be a real guy hangout.

At 29 years of age, my father would pontificate with a comb in one hand and a pair of hair scissors in the other about what needed to be fixed in the Town and what should be done to make things right. It wasn’t long before some of his clients egged him on to run for Town Council so that he could put his money where his mouth was. My mother, 25 years old, pregnant with me and caring for a precocious three-year-old boy (my brother, Todd), hustled to campaign for my father.  On the day that I was born in early October of 1969, my mother rushed around delivering campaign materials while chalking up her contractions to Braxton Hicks. Turns out, she was to deliver more than campaign materials that day. One month later, my father held me in his arms as he gave his first victory speech. Over the next eight years my father would serve the Town of Indialantic first as a councilman and by the time I entered kindergarten, Mayor (and then a few years later my Mother would be the Mayor, and then several years after that my brother, and now as I write this my husband is Deputy Mayor, but I’m getting ahead of myself).

            In 1978 my father would run for the Florida legislature, where he would serve for over a dozen years until I was in my senior year of college, first as State Representative and later as Senator. So from birth until my senior year of college my father held or was running for some sort of elected office.

Now, there is no time or opportunity for the daughter of a politician to be quiet and shy. There is no luxury of staying behind the scenes playing alone in your room with your dollhouse and Barbies. Having a family member running for office calls for all hands on deck, and I would not be spared. Although I didn’t feel particularly cute at the time, I am now an adult and realize that all eight-year-olds are precious and probably one of any candidate’s better selling points. So, when I was just my own son’s age now, I remember waving with my family on strategic street corners during morning and evening rush hour traffic. I would smile, wave and hold up a big red and white sign that read, “Vote for My Daddy.” They also had me walking door to door with them and other volunteers in the early evenings and on weekends, knocking, then taking three steps back from the door, handing out a brochure and giving my pitch,

“My daddy is Tim Deratany and he’s running for State Representative District 42. I hope we can count on your vote!”

I might have been shy when I started, but after knocking on literally hundreds of doors over weeks and months, and successfully getting people to take my brochure, I eventually overcame my shyness. I learned to look people in the eye and shake hands. I learned that other people were just as shy as I was and that I could make myself feel less shy by letting people know that I was happy to see them.  I learned that I should always conduct myself as if I were being watched because I was a reflection of my family. Even today, I feel perfectly comfortable walking up to total strangers and introducing myself, at least if I’m on some sort of mission like promoting an event or working as part of a hosting committee. However, if I’m just at a party to be at a party where I don’t know people and am just a random guest, then I’m just as shy and awkward as the next person. But give me a piece of literature to pass out or a job to do, and it’s just like second nature. Like riding a bicycle. I’m Brooke Deratany Goldfarb and I’m pleased to meet you!

People sometimes ask me when am I going to run for public office. Although I’ve been elected to the leadership of various organizations over the years starting with Melbourne High School Student Body President, I haven’t yet tried for true political office. Not that I wouldn’t, just that I haven’t.

 Yet.

You see, the one thing I’ve learned having both parents in politics (after my father, my mother was on the Indialantic Town Council, then the Mayor of Indialantic, then a Brevard County Commissioner), is that politics is not pretty. It takes thick skin and being prepared to have half the people hate you at any time, no matter how nice you are or how hard you try to do a good job and get things accomplished. It means always being a target for angry citizens (and opposing sides) and having ongoing dinner conversations on things like zoning and taxes and other issues of the day. It means always having to worry about saying what you mean exactly the way you mean to say it so that it is not taken out of context and used against you. It means living your life in such a way as to avoid even the slightest appearance of impropriety.

Endearing retired people at political functions used to ask my little school-aged pig-tailed self what I wanted to be when I grew up. They really seemed to get a kick out of it when I said things like “Supreme Court Justice” or “Governor of Florida.”  I always thought I was supposed to run for office when I grew up; that people expected it of me. Except that I don’t always care for the polarizing effect of the two-party system, even though it is the system we have and I don’t see it changing anytime soon. I can’t help but see the other side or that the world is more complicated than divisions of black and white or Red and Blue. The issues have nuances and intricacies. I really want to understand why each person feels the way that they do. I really want to try to make sense of it.  Is anyone really ever completely right? Is anyone really ever completely wrong? There are so many ways of viewing a situation. I first want to listen carefully to all of the offered arguments and then make up my mind.

  

There is one non-partisan election I would like to pursue: I really would like to be a judge. A judge is supposed to be independent minded. A judge is supposed to remain above and beyond politics. The judge’s robe and iconic blind over the eyes of Lady Justice are meant to symbolize the closing off of the judge from bias, prejudice and political influence. I know it doesn’t always seem that way to people, but that is the way it is meant to be. Judges are supposed to make decisions based solely on the unique facts of the case before them and the applicable law.  They are supposed to do so with honor, dignity, wisdom, and respect for all. A judge should maintain order in the courtroom while promoting an atmosphere in which professionalism, courtesy and civility prevail for all those who come before the bench. A judge should be compassionate, have life experience and be able to see the big picture. She should do her best to make visitors to her courtroom feel comfortable and safe; that rules will be followed; and that people will be dealt with appropriately. She is uniquely placed to require professionalism and respect for humanity.  

          When people go to court, they are naturally nervous, angry, upset or afraid. Much usually hangs in the balance. Cases are almost always complicated and must be resolved as, well, judiciously, as possible. Individuals are rarely all good or all bad or all wrong or all right, but the one thing they all have in common is that they want to be treated fairly. One man’s frivolous case is another man’s dying cause, but what are the facts of the case and what law applies? These are the questions. To me the only true constant (because lawyers and litigants rarely agree on the facts or the law) is that all people before the court—regardless of why they are there or what they have done—are human beings. And as human beings they are worthy of respect. Sometimes a person may think another not so worthy, and although it makes sense that they might feel that way, it remains that all human beings are indeed worthy, regardless of what mess they may have made of things or how badly they have acted. And let's not forget that we can respect all people and still hold them accountable for their actions, by preserving due process and following legal procedure.

It’s what we would want if it were you and I.

            So I hope to become a judge because I want to be that calming courtroom presence. I want to be able to command professionalism and dignity, courtesy and civility. I want people to feel like they have been heard and respected, even if the ruling doesn’t end up going their way. As a lawyer and as a litigant, I’ve seen it from all angles. I’ve felt what it’s like to perform for the judge and jury on behalf of my client. I know the anxiety of the witness on the stand. I’ve seen lawyers be rude and insulting. I’ve seen lawyers conduct themselves with professionalism and respect. I’ve also examined the courtroom from the point of view of the mediator, the arbitrator, the law professor, the mentor of aspiring law students and younger lawyers. I know how challenging it can be to ask the difficult questions and to feel the need to zealously represent your client. I think a good judge should also mentor young attorneys and build them up and encourage them to be the most professional and ethical they can be. Believe it or not, my friends, lawyers are people too. Even they are worthy of human kindness and respect.  Despite what you might see in the movies or on television, most lawyers are just trying to do a good job for their client. Certain judges sometimes forget how hard it is to be in the trenches, to be required to be in front of three judges in three different courtrooms at the same time. 

In the end, it’s all about balance. After all, I think that's what the scales are for. 

Why Be A Lawyer?

When I was eleven years old I decided to be a lawyer. Although my parents were in favor of encouraging their daughter to pursue a profession they could point to with pride, there were many naysayers out there, especially among established lawyers.

“Don’t do it! Don’t go to law school!” they would exclaim. “There are already too many lawyers in the world. Besides, we're all unhappy!"

Then there are all the people out there who openly hate lawyers; all the lawyer jokes and the pejorative names like “ambulance chaser,” “shark” and “shyster.” Of course, most people only hate lawyers until they actually need one themselves. And then they like THEIR lawyer, at least until they get the bill for services rendered.

Although I was suspicious of these lawyers' reasons for trying to dissuade me from the practice of law, now that I have been a lawyer for a number of years I can see what they were talking about. The truth is it is not easy to make it as a lawyer. Whether you work for yourself, in a big corporate law firm, for a company, legal aid or the public defender's office, the practice of law can be very demanding and stressful. People usually need a lawyer when they are in crisis or have a distressing or distasteful problem they need help solving. A lot of pressure is put on lawyers to come up with the right answers and to win cases. That requires long and sometimes tedious hours. If you work for a firm, there is the constant pressure to bill the hours. If you work on your own, there is the constant struggle to bring in and manage business and to collect the fees so you can keep your office going. Many demands are put on attorneys by clients, judges, opposing counsel and the Bar itself. A lawyer can really feel the pressure of having the fate of a person’s future on her hands. While some clients are very grateful for all you do, other times no matter what you do, you can't make your client happy. They say that lawyers leave the profession as quickly as they enter it, and that lawyers suffer one of the highest levels of divorce, depression, substance abuse and suicide of any of the professions. So why then would anyone in their right mind want to be a lawyer?

The other day, when driving a carpool, I overheard one of my daughter’s friends telling her that she wanted to be a lawyer some day so that she could be rich.

“Whoa, slow your roll, Chick-a-dee!” I thought to myself.  Although I can certainly understand the “lawyers are rich” perception with the billboards and the publicized huge corporate salaries and the high-profile billion dollar settlements of which the lawyers get their thirty percent cut, the fact of the matter is that the practice of law is like any other profession or job. A few really successful people make a lot of money (paying for it in blood, sweat and tears and putting in 80 hour weeks, mind you), but a larger number of lawyers--at least the ones who are able to get a job or attract clients--are solidly middle class. A starting public defender salary is usually in the range of a starting public school teacher salary (around $35,000 to $40,000 per year). On the other end of the spectrum and depending on the market, those who graduate at the top of their class at top law schools can have a starting salary well into six figures in some big cities like New York, D.C. and Los Angeles. However, the average mid-career lawyer income range is probably more $50,000 to $100,000, which, although I acknowledge is respectable, doesn't go very far when providing for a family and trying to save for the future. For most lawyers, the practice of law is not amazing wealth. While some do very well, others barely eke out a living.

So then why go to all the trouble to be a lawyer if not for the money? This is why: Lawyers can really make a difference in their community and the world. They help people in crisis, like my friend Robert Johnson, who is the Executive Director of Brevard County Legal Aid or my friend, Wendi Adelson, who has worked with victims of human trafficking as an immigration lawyer. There are many lawyers out there doing important work standing up for people’s rights, making sure that everyday people don’t get picked on, bullied and taken advantage of. Being a lawyer means participating meaningfully in the process that keeps America free and provides for checks and balances among the three branches of government. Lawyers make sure rules get followed and that people are held accountable. They make sure their clients get fair treatment and due process under the law.  In short, practicing lawyers manifest the dream of our forefathers who, by the way, were mostly lawyers, and their dream was that our country would be a place where we the people among other things would establish justice and ensure the blessings of liberty.

When those lawyers would pooh-pooh me and say that there were already too many lawyers in the world, my parents, ever my champions, would retort, “There is always room for another GOOD lawyer.” Although we didn’t go into the definition of what constituted a “Good Lawyer,” I took it to mean that there is always room at the Bar for a lawyer who did an excellent job. Now I believe a Good Lawyer is more than that.

After all, what ultimately made me want to become a lawyer by the time I was 11 years old (before realizing this would be acceptable to my parents) is this: At a young age I had personally been picked on and bullied and watched other kids being picked on and bullied and I wanted to pursue a career that would empower me and others to stand up to the bullies of the world. I wanted to solve problems; help people; make a difference. I liked to read and write and speak and from what I could tell, this is what lawyers did. And here we have refined my definition of a Good Lawyer: A lawyer who uses her intelligence and skills to solve problems, help people, and live a life of purpose.

I know this isn't how a lot of people think about what it means to be a lawyer, but I enjoy pointing out that the original job description of a lawyer was to be a healer of societal rifts and advocate for civil order, for preventing "trial by battle" and peaceably resolving disputes. It is said that lawyers actually appeared back when hunters and gatherers started settling in villages. When disputes would arise, the oldest and wisest members of the community were called upon to make decisions regarding the disputes, with others in the community acting as representatives trying to bring peace back to the community. When people think about what it means to be a lawyer, I would like them to envision the many famous lawyers throughout history who have contributed to the advancement of rights and freedoms in our society, such as Marcus Tullius Cicero, Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln (and 25 other United States Presidents), Mahatma Ghandhi, Nelson Mandela, Thurgood Marshall (and all of the Supreme Court Justices), More than ½ of the United States Senate, and perhaps most important, 35 out of 55 of the Founding Fathers who took part in the Constitutional Convention in 1787.

People should realize that without lawyers, there are no courts, without courts there are no rights, no third branch of government serving as a check and balance on the executive and legislative branches. Without checks and balances there is no freedom because it has been long established that absolute power corrupts absolutely. Remember Panem in the Hunger Games and the absolute power of President Snow? It's not all that far fetched. In some countries in the world there is no due process and people don't have the right to an attorney or the right to freedom of speech, religion, the press, to peaceably assemble or complain to the people who govern them.

Furthermore, making money and living a life of purpose are not mutually exclusive. There was a time when I made the six figure salary of a mergers and acquisitions associate at a big corporate D.C. law firm helping wealthy clients and corporations. While I didn’t love the overwhelming time commitment expected of me, I learned to find purpose in the building of businesses and helping people and companies succeed. And sometimes when I would rather be with my family than at the office, I would console myself with the thought that the money I was making would help provide for my family, allowing us to save for retirement and our children’s college education, as well as have clothes to wear, food to eat, a car to drive, and a furnished house in a safe neighborhood. 

The American Dream doesn’t come cheap. However, we wouldn’t have the American Dream if it weren’t for the lawyers who wrote our Declaration of Independence, Constitution and Bill of Rights, nor would we be able to keep it if it weren’t for lawyers being prepared to protect it. 

Additionally, I think it is pretty well established that if you pick a career based solely on the amount of money you think you can make pursuing it, then you are setting yourself up for a lot of unhappiness and emptiness in your life. I want bright, young, articulate people to consider becoming lawyers because they believe in truth, justice and the American Way, because they believe in keeping the playing field fair and that the rights granted to every person in the United States of America by our Constitution are worth preserving and fighting for. I want them to become lawyers so that they can live a life of purpose, helping people who need help and solving problems that need to be solved, ensuring that stories get told, justice prevails and freedom continues to ring. I can’t guarantee them financial success. Many of them will indeed find it, but I don’t want young people to become lawyers for the lure of big money. No one can guarantee the money will be there. What is guaranteed is that if they look hard enough for it, they will find a life of purpose. Then they will have untold riches that money would never be able to buy.