Imagine you are on a new job for three months when the boss calls you in, strongly suggesting that you need to perform a certain function that is against everything you stand for.

As they say on the TV broadcast, “What would you do?”

Say hello to Dylan Wegela.

He’s better known in the Garden City area as state Rep. Wegela, who was elected to the Michigan House in the 2022 election. He was part of the trifecta wave that swept over the state Capitol, propelling the state House, the state Senate, and the governor’s chair all into Democratic hands, the first time Democrats have controlled all levers of state government in an incredible 40 years.

The euphoria of that win was still heavy in the air in March when the governor asked lawmakers to pony up a $1.3 billion state aid incentive package for the folks who own the Blue Oval. Plunking down a big footprint in the EV battery market was super high on Gov. Gretchen Whitmer’s must-do list, and that new Ford plant in Marshall was a must-win.

She needed all Democratic hands on deck to vote yes.

Rep. Wegela refused.

Oh-oh.

Get the picture here. He is a newbie in this game, and didn’t get the memo that new House members are supposed to be seen but not heard. The drill is basically to do what you are told to do.

Rep. Wegela refused.

The governor’s office knows a thing or two about how to cultivate votes, and that sometimes includes horse trading.

Everybody in town knew that Wegela needed state aid to erase a deficit in the Inkster school system, which is in his district.

So you can figure out where this was going.

Yep. In return for his yes vote, he would get the bailout money for schoolkids whose parents vote in that district.

Rep. Wegela refused.

“The term that I use was ‘held hostage,'” he said.

He came into office promising his constituents that he was dead set against sending state tax dollars to big corporations. Some begrudgingly call it corporate welfare.

So the “hostage” had two choices: 1.) bend his values and help his voters, or 2.) stand on principle while stiffing his governor in the process.

He did the latter.

And, make no mistake, governors never forget getting stiffed. Could there be consequences for the stubborn lawmaker down the road when he wants something from the governor?

“That is one of the problems in Lansing,” Wegela said. “We use appropriation dollars to get people to compromise on their values … and, if we are constantly making trades on these things, we’re going to lead to the people in power and their values being reflected (in the legislative process) rather than the ones (values) you ran on.”

All together now, “Amen to that.”

By the way, he eventually got the money for his school while being able to look in the mirror every morning and see a rarity these days: someone not willing to go along to get along.

(Watch Wegela’s personal account of all that at WKAR.org and search for “Off the Record.”)