When I was four, my best friend and I got a hold of the chunky permanent markers the teachers would use at kindergarten to paint our nails blue. Invigorated, we decided to take our rebellion a step further, and each hid a marker in our bags to take home. When my grandma picked me up, it didn’t take her long to enquire about my aquamarine nails. Expecting accolades, I plucked the marker from my bag. But the next day, my grandma accompanied me to kindergarten and took me straight to the teacher so that I could return the marker to its rightful place. I still remember the embarrassment, coupled with some resentment that my friend had gotten away with the same offence. But looking back, that blush of shame was a helpful teacher. It instilled in me that it’s not always easy to admit our wrongdoings and mistakes, but it’s the very thing that builds integrity and trust.
Now, I try to see integrity as the foundation of everything I do. It’s what guides me in decisions; it’s what deepens my re…