In 1936 Olympic Games were hosted by Germany, governed by Adolf Hitler’s Nazi regime.
Hitler’s well-known hatred of Jews and his disdain for non-white races was part of the atmosphere of the Games and, to America’s most famous and accomplished African American athlete Jesse Owens, competing in a stadium filled with swastikas and “Heil Hitler’ straight arm salutes to the German dictator was distressing, to say the least.*
Owens, who held the world record in the long jump, foot-faulted on his first two qualifying jumps. If he fouled again, he’d be eliminated. According to Owens, Luz Long, the only man who had a chance to beat Owens, introduced himself and suggested that Owens play it safe by making a mark a foot before the takeoff board to assure he could qualify. It worked, and Owens advanced to the finals to compete against Long.
This decision to help a competitor is still viewed as one of the great acts of sportsmanship but the fact that Long was Germany’s premier long-jumper and made the act even more extraordinary.
In Long’s first jump he set a new Olympic record, but Owens beat that jump, setting a new World Record. In the end, Owens won the gold medal and Long took the silver.
Though he knew it would not please Hitler, Long was the first to congratulate Owens. That’s sportsmanship. But Long went further. He embraced Owens and walked around the stadium with him arm-in-arm before the astonished German crowd. Later they posed together for pictures. That’s character.
Describing the event, Owens said, “You can melt down all the medals and cups I have and they wouldn’t be a plating on the 24-karat friendship I felt for Luz Long at that moment.” Though they never saw each other again, they kept in touch and as a soldier fighting for Germany in 1942, Long wrote this letter to Owens:
My heart is telling me that this is perhaps the last letter of my life. If that is so, I beg one thing from you. When the war is over, please go to Germany, find my son and tell him about his father. Tell him about the times when war did not separate us and tell him that things can be different between men in this world. Your brother, Luz.
Luz Long died from battle wounds a year later at age 30. In 1951, Jesse Owens kept his promise and found Long’s son in war-torn German. He later said that what he valued the most from Olympic experience had been his friendship with Luz Long.
Although 11-year-old Mark wasn’t much of an athlete, his dad urged him to play youth baseball. Mark liked to play, but he was hurt by the remarks of teammates and spectators whenever he struck out or dropped a ball. Just before the fourth game of the season, Mark told his dad he didn’t want to go. “I’m no good,” he said, “and everyone knows it.”
His father urged him to stick with it. “Just do your best,” he said. “That’s all anyone can ask. Your best is good enough.”
Mark struck out his first two times at bat, and each time looked over to his father, who struggled to look positive. In his last at-bat, Mark hit the ball solidly, the first time all season. It was a hard grounder to third, and the play at first was close.
When the umpire called Mark out, his father went wild. “Kill the ump!” he yelled. “Are you blind or just stupid? If you can’t do the job, stay off the field!”
On the way home, Mark broke a long silence, “Dad, you said all anyone can ask for is to do his best.”
“That’s right, Son,” his father assured him. “You did your best, and I’m proud of you. But that jerk of an umpire robbed you with a bad call.”
“I wasn’t talking about me,” Mark replied, “I was talking about Billy’s dad. He was the umpire. He was doing his best, but you got mad at him.”
His father was taken aback, but he said, “Yeah, but he’s an adult. We should expect more out of adults.”
Mark looked his dad in the eye. “That’s what I thought, too. By the way, I was out.”
Despite his father’s good intentions, he didn’t set a good example. We should expect more from adults – more fairness and respect, more sportsmanship and more self-restraint. If your kids play sports, be a model, not a problem.
Many years ago a man came to a village in India to catch monkeys so he could sell them to zoos. The monkeys, however, were very clever and every sort of trap he set failed. A young boy watched the man’s pathetic efforts and laughed.
The man said, “If you can catch me a monkey I’ll give you $2.” (That was a huge amount of money then.)
The boy went to his home and took a clay pot with a narrow neck. He placed a few nuts around the pot and put lots of nuts inside. He then tied the pot to a tree and he told the man, “We should have a monkey in a few hours. Let’s wait in the village. The monkey will call us when he is ready.”
Sure enough, a band of monkeys soon discovered the nuts and the pot. One slipped his hand in the pot and grabbed a handful of nuts, but he couldn’t pull his hand out of the narrow opening of the pot because his fist was clenched. The monkey panicked and started making loud noises. Some of the other monkeys tried unsuccessfully to pull the pot off his hand.
The boy and the man heard the ruckus and the boy got a sack. As they approached the monkeys they all ran away except the one with its hand in the pot. The boy grabbed the monkey and the pot. The man was amazed and asked the boy the secret of his monkey trap. “Why was it so easy for the monkey to get his hand in but so hard to get it out?”
The boy laughed and said, “The monkey could have easily got his hand back out and escaped, but he would have had to let go of the nuts in the pot, and he just wasn’t willing to let go. They never are.”
What lessons can be learned from this story? Do people sometimes trap themselves by holding onto things that they should let go? Do you?
This story is often used to illustrate the power of greed. People get trapped by the trappings of success, by wealth, and by a limitless desire to acquire and hold onto material things — even when the things they hold do not give them what they want or need. But there are other dimensions to the story as well. Many people trap themselves by holding onto negative feelings — resentment, anger, and jealousy — that both lessen and limit their lives. Like the monkey who derives no pleasure or nourishment from the nuts he holds in his hand, we can derive nothing of value from these negative emotions. Many of us could improve our lives instantly by the simple act of letting go. It’s so simple, yet so hard.
Will, Fern, and the Power of Encouragement
by JOSEPHSON INSTITUTE on APRIL 30, 2012
in CARING, COMPASSION, COMMENTARIES, FOR TEENS, RELATIONSHIPS
Two frogs named Will and Fern fell into a deep pit together. At first, they thought it would be easy to jump out. But after lots of failed attempts they cried for help and a crowd of animals gathered around the pit.
Everyone agreed it was hopeless so they urged Will and Fern to accept their fate. The harder the trapped frogs jumped, the more the crowd yelled at them to give up. Finally, Will stopped trying. Fern refused to quit and with one mighty try she leaped out of the pit.
The crowd was amazed. Someone asked her why she kept trying when everyone told her she had no chance.
Fern was baffled. “What are you saying?” she asked. “I’m a bit deaf. I was sure you were all cheering me on. I couldn’t have done it without your encouragement.”
I learned of this story from a woman who was in a transitional housing program recovering from a long period of drug abuse, homelessness and hopelessness. She wanted everyone to understand how important positivism and encouragement can be to help people who seem down and out to get up and out. She said she got out of her own pit because caring people helped her believe in herself and gave her the confidence she needed to jump a little harder.
There will always be people in your life ready to tell you what you can’t do. Real friends root for you, support you and help you discover your inner talents and strengths.
I hope you will find and treasure those kinds of friends and be one yourself.
Please go to whatwillmatter.com and tell us what you think of these stories.
This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.
In 1968, when Kent M. Keith* was a 19-year-old sophomore at Harvard University, he wrote “The Paradoxical Commandments” as part of a booklet for student leaders. He describes the Commandments as guidelines for finding personal meaning in the face of adversity:
1. People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered. Love them anyway.
2. If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives. Do good anyway.
3. If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway.
4. The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
5. Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable. Be honest and frank anyway.
6. The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds. Think big anyway.
7. People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs. Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
8. What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway.
9. People really need help but may attack you if you do help them. Help people anyway.
10. Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you have anyway.
The essence of these Commandments is that each of us must choose to do what we think we should do, even when we think we have good reasons not to. They remind us that we are capable of rising above common practices that demean our nature and our culture.
We can rationalize distorting the Golden Rule as “Do unto others as they have done unto you” or “Do unto others before they do unto you,” but, in the terminology of the 60s, we then become part of the problem rather than the solution.
by JOSEPHSON INSTITUTE on FEBRUARY 10, 2012
in COMMENTARIES, PARENTING, FAMILY, THE NATURE OF CHARACTER
A frazzled mother with a fussy child caught the eye of a grocery store manager. He overheard her say, “Lily, you can do this. We just have to get a few things.”
Moments later, when the child became more upset, the mother said calmly, “It’s okay, Lily. We’re almost done.”
When the child became hysterical in the checkout line, the mom took a deep breath and said, “Lily, just hold it together for a few more minutes.”
As she was leaving, the store manager stopped her. “I just wanted to compliment you on how remarkably calm and patient you were with little Lily.”
The mother laughed. “Well, thank you, but my baby’s name is Lisa. I’m Lily. I was just holding it together for myself.”
Self-control is a virtue that doesn’t come easily. This mother had to work on it, talking herself through each challenge. According to Dr. Daniel Goleman, controlling impulses like frustration and anger is a crucial aspect of character that he calls “emotional intelligence.” In fact, he says, “Those who are at the mercy of impulse – who lack self-control – suffer a moral deficiency.”
The good news is, this deficiency in self-control can be cured by continuous efforts to identify and overcome negative emotions with rational thought. Although most of us experience negative emotions, inducing us to express anger, give in to frustration, or surrender to temptation, self-control is well within our power. We may not be able to suppress all our emotions and reactions, but we can dictate what we say and do. And whether we’ll allow negative feelings to dominate us.
It’s hard work to harness powerful impulses and redirect our thoughts toward positive attitudes, but those who do live happier lives in a happier world.
COMMENTARY: How to Succeed by Failing Forward — Turning Stumbling Blocks to Stepping Stones
by MICHAEL JOSEPHSON on FEBRUARY 7, 2012
in COMMENTARIES, SUCCESS & FAILURE, WORKPLACE, MANAGEMENT
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The best way to teach our children to succeed is to teach them to fail.
After all, if getting everything you want on the first try is success, and everything else is failure, we all fail much more often than we succeed.
People who learn how to grow from unsuccessful efforts succeed more often and at higher levels because they become wiser and tougher.
Two great American inventors, Thomas Edison and Charles Kettering mastered the art of building success on a foundation of what others might call failure.
Edison liked to say he “failed his way to success,” noting that every time he tried something that didn’t work he moved closer to what did. “Now I know one more thing that doesn’t work.”, he would say.
The lesser known Kettering (head of research for General Motors from 1920-1947) talked about “failing forward,”* calling every wrong attempt a “practice shot.”
The strength of both men was that their creativity and confidence was undiminished by setbacks and unsuccessful efforts. They accepted that trial and error is an essential strategy for breakthrough innovation and simply rejected the notion of failure. Thomas Watson, the founder of IBM, cautioned his leaders from being so careful that they never failed. He went so far as to say, ”The way to succeed is to double your failure rate.”
Of course, failure is never desirable, but it is inevitable and, with a proper attitude, can be quite useful.
The only way to avoid failure is to avoid the risks and challenges and that probably is a case of real failure. The great hockey player Wayne Gretzky used to say, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”
Whatever your goal, whether it’s to get something, do something, or improve yourself as a person or professional, the secret of success is learning to transform unsuccessful experiences from stumbling blocks to stepping stones.
Three qualities can turn adversity into advantage: a positive perspective, reflection, and perseverance.
First, learn from the inventors. Don’t allow yourself to think of any failure as final, and never allow unsuccessful efforts to discourage you or cause you to give up. Remember, failure is an event, not a person. Even failing repeatedly can’t defeat you unless you start thinking of yourself as a failure. The way you think about your experiences shapes the experience in ways that either stimulate or stymie further efforts.
Second, don’t waste the experience. Unsuccessful efforts are wasted and debilitating only if you don’t learn from them. Reflect on your actions, attitudes and the results to discover the lesson within the experience and use that knowledge to guide future efforts.
Third, persevere. Try and try again. Just be smarter each time.
And finally, learn to enjoy the process. Simply being absorbed in the pursuit of any change that will improve your life or the lives of others is a blessing.
COMMENTARY: True Friends
by MICHAEL JOSEPHSON on JANUARY 11, 2012
in COMMENTARIES, RELATIONSHIPS, THE GOOD LIFE
So what are the qualities of a true friend?
True friends are good companions, people you enjoy doing things with, but they are also people you just enjoy being with. In true friendships the activity is incidental – it doesn’t matter much what you are doing together as long as you are together.
True friends are people you want to be with to have a good time, but they are also the ones you have to be with when you’re having a hard time.
True friends find the time to be with you on happy occasions, but they also make the time to be with you in times of trauma.
True friends know a lot about you; but they also really know you.
True friends have seen you at your best, and also at your worst.
True friends put up with your annoying habits, dumb comments, bad jokes, and broken commitments; but they also tolerate your periodic neglect, angry outbursts, and unkind remarks.
True friends will always forgive you because they value the friendship far more than whatever it is you did to make them angry.
True friends stand up for you, but they also stand up to you.
True friends are on your side and, when you need them, they are at your side.
True friends treat you like a fine painting, always placing you in the best light.
True friends are proud, not jealous, of your achievements; they build you up, and don’t tear you down.
True friends cry with you when you are grieving, and celebrate with you when you experience joy.
True friends want the best for you, bring the best out of you, and expect the best from you.
This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.
COMMENTARY: Enough Is Enough
What does it take to make you happy? How much do you have to have to be grateful?
To the barefoot man, happiness is a pair of shoes. To the man with old shoes, it’s a pair of new shoes. To the man with new shoes, it’s more stylish shoes. And of course, the fellow with no feet — he’d be happy to be barefoot.
This leads to the ancient insight: if you want to be happy, count your blessings, not your burdens. Measure your life by what you have, not by what you don’t. And in our modern world where we are continually exposed to endless increments of more and better — people with more money, better TVs, and bigger houses — this is very difficult. For some people, the pleasure of having something good is drained as soon as they see that someone else has something better. And so, our sense of contentment is created or destroyed by comparisons.
A life consumed by unfulfilled wants is an affliction. The antidote is the concept of enough. This starts by thinking more clearly about the difference between our needs and our wants, between sufficiency and abundance. Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more and striving to fill our lives with things and experiences that give us pleasure, so long as we don’t start believing that we need whatever we want. When we think we need what we want, we make the satisfaction of our wants preconditions to happiness, thereby limiting our ability to appreciate and enjoy what we do have. It’s easy to think that happiness is achieved by getting what we want when it is really a matter of wanting what we get.
So in the end, enough is enough.
This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.
According to an article in The Wall Street Journal, two-thirds of the world’s population, including almost everyone in the continental United States and Europe, no longer see a starry sky where they live.
The reason: City lights prevent us from seeing much more than a canopy of gray shadows. What a pity. In rural or remote areas with little or no artificial lights, about 2,000 stars can be seen on a clear night, and the experience can be breathtaking.
Whether we credit God or physics, how can we avoid the conclusion that our cosmos is governed by forces that dwarf anything our simple species can muster? How can we not feel like transitory snowflakes in a universe that measures time in billions of years and space in trillions of miles?
At the same time, a star-filled sky can be both empowering and inspiring. It can cause us to ponder the meaning and purpose of our lives, and it has ignited the imagination of poets, philosophers, theologians, and scientists for centuries.
It’s bad enough that the technology of contemporary civilization prevents us from seeing the extraterrestrial stars. It’s worse when we allow the shallow values and frenetic pace of modern society to prevent us from seeing and following the aspirations and principles that are our own internal guiding stars.
Every day we’re challenged to rise above petty office politics, senseless family conflicts, negative emotions, and unbridled ego so that we can live our lives large and be worthy of our place in the universe.
We may not be able to see the stars by looking up, but if we close our eyes and look inward, we can find and follow the best within us.
This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.
by MICHAEL JOSEPHSON on NOVEMBER 30, 2011
in CARING, COMPASSION, COMMENTARIES, RELATIONSHIPS
There are all kinds of love. The passionate romantic love immortalized and often fantasized by poets and novelists; Platonic love among friends, the love of humanity preached by missionaries and ministers, the love of country, and even the love of our work. I’ve been fortunate to have experienced all of these forms but none has impressed me more than the deep, enduring and totally unselfish love I feel for my children. That’s why I “love” this parable.
A 6-year-old girl I’ll call Sarah knocked over a display case that contained a much-cherished vase once owned by her great-grandmother. Her mom loved that vase and frequently referred to it as the family treasure. The vase hit the floor with a loud crash and shattered into pieces. Sarah, shocked and frightened at what she’d done, screamed and began sobbing.
Her mom came running into the room fearing the worst. Seeing the shattered vase, her heart sank. Then she saw Sarah sitting on the floor wailing. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m sorry, Mommy. I broke the family treasure!”
Seeing despair on her daughter’s face, the mother’s heart plunged further.
Faced with two powerful and conflicting instincts – one toward anger and blame, the other toward compassion and forgiveness, she sat next to Sarah, pulled her on her lap, and kissed her tears. “Sweetheart, when I ran in here, I was terrified that something bad had happened to our family’s most precious treasure. But thank God, you’re okay. Sarah, you are the family treasure.”
Sarah’s mom turned what could have been a painful incident and a lifelong source of guilt into an enduring source of affirmation and worthiness.
I wonder if I would have had the presence of mind to realize in the instant after an upsetting event that I could choose my reaction and that my choice would have a permanent impact on someone I love.
The reaction of Sarah’s mom was nothing short of heroic and stands as a reminder that, even in the face of powerful emotions, we do have choices – and they really matter.
This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.
The Cookie Thief
by JOSEPHSON INSTITUTE on OCTOBER 31, 2011
There’s a nice poem circulating on the Internet about a woman who bought some cookies and a book at an airport and sat down to read and nibble while waiting for her plane. She soon noticed a man sitting next to her, who casually took a cookie from the bag.
Although shocked and seething, the woman remained silent as the man, without the slightest sign of shame or gratitude, quietly helped himself, matching her cookie for cookie.
When there was one cookie left, she watched in amazement as he picked it up, smiled at her as if he were being gracious, and broke it in half. He ate one half and gave her the other. Congratulating herself for maintaining her cool, she said nothing to this rude cookie thief, astonished at the nerve of some people.
Later, when she was settling into her seat on the plane, she rummaged through her purse and discovered the bag of cookies she’d purchased, still unopened. The moral message is contained in the poem’s closing stanza:
“If mine are here,” she moaned with despair,
“Then the others were his, and he tried to share.”
Too late to apologize, she realized with grief,
That she was the rude one, the ingrate, the thief.
Being sure is not the same as being right. Certainty without humility can lead to self-righteousness that distorts our view and understanding of the world and of people.
Humility does not require us to be equivocal or doubtful about our deepest convictions about religion and right and wrong. What it asks is that we hold and advocate our beliefs without dismissing the possibility that others may be right, too. Or, as in the cookie case, instead.