“It’s never too late to change the world. Hold on to your ideals.”
-A partner on the 12th floor
(Tak nak letak nama sebenar, kang dia google nanti mati kot.)
In the firm I work in, there’s a total of 39 partners at the helm (37 now). Every new kid has to go through a process of getting the signatures of every single partner on all 4 floors by going to their rooms and introducing yourself along with producing your CV. It feels like being interviewed 37 times. As of now, I’ve collected 27 signatures, 10 more to go. The experience has been an interesting one so far, because you’ll get to know the partners who are interested in your interests and those who want you to make the most out of your pupillage months. I’ve made a list of the partners whom I’d like to offer help to if I’m free; they seem like the sort I’d like to learn from. But interesting as it is, it can get a little nerve-wracking too. As I said, it’s like being interviewed 37 times. I don’t know how I made it through the first 27. You sit there as they go over your CV, your certs, your qualifications and then ask you random things. Even if they don’t mean to, effectively you tend to feel like you’re put under a microscope for inspection and scrutinisation.
Out of the 27 so far, 1 conversation has stuck with me til now, and significantly so. It wasn’t what he had said, but what I had responded. This was with a partner on the 8th floor.
On that particular day, I had already introduced myself to a lot of partners in one go, in between doing my assigned work, so I was exhausted by the time I got to the last room. I didn’t even think of the answers I’d give anymore if he asked; I just sat across him and silently passed the signature form with my CV across the table.
As he flipped through them, the first thing out of his mouth was completely different from what all the previous ones had first said. He simply asked me this:
“So. What do you aspire to do?”
I was caught offguard. And maybe it was the lack of food or sleep or the complexity of my work’s subject matter that day had me too spent to concoct a solid, substantial answer because I didn’t think. I couldn’t even structure a full sentence. On instinct, I shortly answered:
“To help people.”
Maybe that kind of answer might not get me anywhere in the mad rat race climb to the top, and some might call it lame even.
But I had said it, and I was honest about it. No pretenses about big fat aspirations to be on top of the legal world. That’s what I want to do, if not now, then eventually. (What do you do when you know what you want to do but don’t know how to go about doing it?)
Having said that, you might probably call my choice of firm a very strange one, because it goes in a completely different direction altogether. But I chose it for a reason. I chose it because I want to learn how the big guns work, how they think, how they manage themselves and their ingredients for success. I love the exposure I get to things I didn’t learn back in law school. I want to know whether I’m cut out for that kind of high-end life, whether I have the brains to practice and that if I eventually say No to it, it will be because my heart lies elsewhere and not because I can’t do it. I’m so tired of doubting my abilities.
Also…I have bills to pay. Hey, I might as well maintain honesty while I’m at it, correct?
My friend upon my telling her where I was accepted into jokingly said I had sold my soul. Both of us are more into the whole journalism(ala Ayman Al-Zahiri) cum activism area, and so when we both ventured into the commercial world, it was somewhat tantamount to sacrilege; a blaspheme on all we held dear. I told her this venture was a way of going behind enemy lines to recover and retrieve useful data for our future battles. (This was all said in jest; I herewith absolve myself of any guilt with regards to violating rules of confidentiality, and any other corresponding matters thereof.) Who knows where the paths we first choose will eventually lead us?
After hearing my very brief answer, the partner peered over his glasses quizzically, looking straight at me. I quickly fixed my lopsided sentence by adding that I’d like to see what I learnt first in my chambering months before deciding my next step. It’s the truth, and at least it doesn’t sound as naive and idealistic as ‘to help people.’ Sometimes you need to make your answer sound like it has a ring of sense to it. He eventually gave a nod. Of approval, of understanding, I can’t be sure, but I’ll take it.
The last words he said before I took off was this:
“You need to be sure of what you want. Only then can you move forward.”
This, I know to be true.
Enough said here.
inspirational if you ask me!
