On Integrity

June 1, 2018

Integrity – Doing the right thing because it’s the right thing to do

Integrity is weird.  I mean, do you teach it to someone, or are people born with it?  Or is it just something that is learned?  I don’t know the answer and I don’t know if there even is an answer.

All I can tell you is that I’ve thought about integrity a lot, especially when I was going to the Naval Academy, because they tried to beat it into our heads.  Not sure why, maybe it’s because they wanted to ensure that everyone that is there had the same level of integrity…there’s another thing, are some people more keen to integrity than others? 

Whatever…enough questions, now on to a story of how I learned about integrity when I was young.  Though at the time, I didn’t say to myself “Hey Dave, you’re learning about integrity here..”  I just thought to myself, what the fuck?  Why did I do this and what did I learn from this?  I guess it’ll make sense when you hear what happened.

Anyway, I was 11 years old and in 5th grade.  I remember that we were going through some bullshit in math like long division or fractions or something and I just wasn’t into it.  I remember my teacher, Mr. Kinghorn..he was one of those teachers that had his “thing” that he was all into and taught us other crap because he was supposed to teach us other crap, like math.  Well, his “thing” was that he was always in charge of the annual school musical presentation.  And everyone in the school knew that if you were in Mr. Kinghorn’s class, that you would automatically required to perform in the concert.  I’ll probably write about that in a different post, because that’s a whole ‘nother story.

So, we basically blew through math and reading and the other school crap to get to the end of the day where we would have to practice songs.  So needless to say, my interest in math kind of matched the rest of the class’ interest and also that of Mr. Kinghorn’s.  I remember one time, I had a word problem involving long division and it had something to do with kids wanting cookies or some shit.  Anyway, I turned in the assignment with some scribble on it to show my work and Mr. Kinghorn calls me out by name in the middle of class and says “David, how the heck do 4.7 kids share 15 cookies?”  I shrugged my shoulders and he marked the question wrong and sent it home with me. 

My dad, being the math genius he was, had a polar opposite approach to math.  He thought that I should just “know” the answers by looking at the problems, because he was able to do that when he was a kid.  So after a few failing assignments and half-assed test scores, I came home with a C in math on my report card.  My dad was livid!

He yelled at me up one side and down the other and asked what the hell was wrong with me, etc…  I tried explaining that it wasn’t really my fault because we weren’t getting taught this stuff because of Mr. Kinghorn’s affinity to music instead of math, and I guess at that point my dad proclaimed that I shall bring home my math book every day from school so he could teach me.  And if I didn’t, then I would have to write 100 times “I will not leave my math book at school.” So it was stated, so it shall be done..

This went along for a week or so, with my dad showing me the art of long division, and then one day, I FORGOT MY MATH BOOK AT SCHOOL.  I remember riding the bus home (we lived about 20 miles from the school, so it would have been impossible for me to go back and get it) and figuratively shitting myself because I realized that my math book was sitting in my cubby in the classroom.  I dug through my backpack and verified that yes, I will be toast when I get home. 

I got home ready to feel the brunt of my dad’s wrath, but my parents weren’t home.  I felt a little relief, but not much as I knew what I needed to do.  I did not know where they were or how long they’d be gone, but I’d better start cranking out those 100 sentences.  So I began..writing, and writing, and writing.  In my best penmanship “I will not leave my math book at school.”  It must have only taken me like 30 minutes to do, but at the time it felt like days..almost a prison sentence.

I finished up the 3 pages of handwriting and sat quietly in my room..thinking to myself, maybe if I make up some of my own math problems, it’ll ease the punishment.  Then my parents came home right before dinner.  I came out of my room crying, holding the papers in my hands.  I said “Daddy, I forgot my math book and I wrote my sentences.”  He looked at me and took the papers and looked at me again and said:  Ok, thanks. 

And he went on his way doing his dad stuff.  No yelling, no cursing, no demeaning.  I remember standing there thinking WTF?!?!  At least spank me or call me a name or say some type of curse word.  But got nothing. 

Then I went back to my room to hang out and stare at the wall wondering what the hell just happened.  I was harder on myself than my dad or mom could ever be, and I think he knew that.  And from that point on I never forgot to bring my math book home (until at least my I asked my dad if I could stop bringing it home after the 5th grade). 

Looking back on that whole situation now, I think that might have meant that I have integrity?  I’m not sure, but that’s what I think anyway.  I did the right thing because it was the right thing to do – which is what we had to regurgitate at the Academy when we were asked what integrity meant.  I fucked something up (no math book), and I had consequences (writing sentences) and I did it, without being reminded or told or scolded into doing.  And then I learned from it and didn’t make that mistake again…it actually did bring my math grade up to a B, so that’s good.

I’ve tried to live my life with that mindset..if something needs to be done, then just take care of it.  I don’t need to look busy because the boss is around.  That was the furthest back in my memory I could go to think of an example of me having integrity.  Like I said, I don’t know if it’s something that I learned in that moment, or did it purely out of fear of my dad’s wrath, or what.  But it’s always stuck with me and I don’t feel guilty or have any remorse in forgetting my math book.  It was an honest mistake as opposed to saying to myself “nah, fuck that old man..I ain’t doing no math today!”  I owned up to it and did what I was supposed to do. 

I hope my kids have similar examples while they were growing up..minus the mean dad part.  Because I’d hate for them to live a life without integrity..or learn late in life what it really means.  I might ask them this weekend and see if it’s not too late to teach them if they have no idea what integrity is.  At a minimum, it’ll create 5 better people in this world that hopefully have it.