It’s not just an excuse for a three-day weekend or a day for barbeque and beer.

Memorial Day is a time for Americans to connect with our national history and core values by honoring those who gave their lives fighting for this country.

It’s said that this special day to salute fallen Americans was born during the Civil War in Mississippi when a group of grieving mothers and wives who were placing flowers on graves in a Confederate cemetery noticed a neglected graveyard for Union soldiers.

Knowing these ignored tombstones marked the resting place of young men equally loved and missed, the Southern women cleaned the Union cemetery and decorated the gravesites with flowers. In 1882, Decoration Day became a national holiday. Later, the name was changed to Memorial Day.

In 1996, Carmella LaSpada, founder of No Greater Love, a nonprofit organization dedicated to memorializing fallen troops and victims of terrorism, met with a group of schoolchildren on the Mall in Washington, D.C. When she asked them what Memorial Day meant, they said, “That’s the day the pool opens.”

Deciding that children should know why they’re free and who paid for their freedom, she generated an idea for a moment of remembrance, which Congress adopted in 2000. Today, you and your family can honor the National Moment of Remembrance by pausing at 3 p.m. local time to observe in your own way one minute of silence to contemplate or pray in honor of our fallen members of the military.

During my minute I’m going to think about and thank the thousands of American troops who are in harm’s way in Iraq and Afghanistan.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)

Here’s a portion of my personal list of beliefs that you may want to pass on:

• I believe I’m a work-in-progress, and there will always be a gap between who I am and who I want to be.


• I believe every day brings opportunities to learn and to do something meaningful.


• I believe the true test of my character is whether I do the right thing even when it might cost more than I want to pay.


• I believe no matter how I behave, some people will be mean-spirited, dishonest, irresponsible, and unkind, but if I fight fire with fire, all I’ll end up with will be the ashes of my own integrity.


• I believe life is full of joys and sorrows, and my happiness will depend on how well I handle each.


• I believe pain is inevitable but suffering is optional, and if I can control my attitudes, I can control my life.


• I believe kindness really matters, and sarcastic comments and badly-timed criticisms can cause lasting hurt.


• I believe there’s joy in gratitude and freedom in forgiveness, but both require conscientious effort.


• I believe what’s fun and pleasurable isn’t always good for me, and what’s good for me isn’t always fun and pleasurable.


• I believe no one’s happy all the time, but in the end, I can be as happy as I’m willing to be.


• I believe the surest road to happiness is good relationships.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:16 AM | Permalink | Comment (9)

Inspirational author and speaker Stephen R. Covey once said, “Start with the end in mind.”

So whenever a company wants to launch an ethics initiative, we at Josephson Institute use a simple exercise: “Look at your organization today – its managers, line employees, and customers – and list behaviors and attitudes you’d like to see more of and less of.”

We use the same exercise when a school is starting a character-development program. Once the desired outcomes are identified, it’s not difficult to devise a strategic plan to achieve them.

This approach can also work with self-improvement. But instead of asking yourself what you want to see more of and less of in your own behavior, ask the people at home and at work to tell you what they want. Interestingly, whether we’re talking about a company, a school, or an individual, the lists are likely to be similar: more respect and kindness, less criticism and complaining. More honesty, less evasion. More accountability, less excuse-making.

Here’s another: If your family and coworkers were told they could choose only five words to describe you, what would you like them to be? What do you think they would say? To paraphrase Jack Nicholson’s character in A Few Good Men, “Could you handle the truth?”

It takes character to engage in open-minded self-reflection and to acknowledge and address your flaws, but it takes even stronger character to commit to getting better. It’s like the old proverb: “If you want to know how to live your life, think about what you want people to say about you after you die – and live backwards.”

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:29 AM | Permalink | Comment (1)

Ann’s father, Sam Burke, was in the last stages of cancer, and his needs had gone beyond what she could provide at home. She was distraught at the thought of placing him in a convalescent home.

The check-in process confirmed her worst fears. Administrators, nurses, and doctors who seemed bothered, bored, or burned out quickly transformed Sam Burke into just another patient.

Driving home with tears in her eyes, she remembered when she told her dad that she hated her dorm during her first year of college. “Never accept the unacceptable,” he had told her. “There’s nothing you can’t make better if you put your mind to it.”

Determined to make his last days better, Ann got the names of every person at the convalescent home who might work with her father and delivered a personally addressed envelope to each of them. It contained a note and pictures of her dad getting married, posing with his children, and in military uniform. The note said, “This is my dad, Sam Burke. A good and proud man who fought for his country and worked hard for his family. I know you will treat him with kindness and dignity. I am very grateful.”

During her next few visits, she made sure to introduce her father to everyone: “This is my dad, Sam Burke.” Soon, the looks of suspicion disappeared, and the staff returned her smiles and personally greeted Sam. Each time they did, Sam squeezed Ann’s hand.

When he died months later, Ann received a card signed by the entire staff: “Thanks for entrusting us with your dad, Sam, and for reminding us why we do what we do. He must have been a great father because you sure are a great daughter.”

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:31 AM | Permalink | Comment (5)

In the early 1900s, a little-known philosopher named James Allen wrote a powerful essay called “As a Man Thinketh” in which he argued that we are what we think, that a person’s character is simply the sum of his thoughts. He went further to declare that our power to control our thoughts (whether we use it or not) is the power to mold our character and shape our destiny.

This is a profound insight, making us personally responsible not only for our conduct but for our circumstances.

He wrote, “As a plant springs from the seed, our actions, character, and even our circumstances spring from our thoughts.” As long as we believe we’re the creatures of outside conditions, we will fail to become the rightful masters of our lives. But if we do the hard work of reflecting continually to identify and modify our negative beliefs and attitudes, we’ll be astonished at the rapid transformation it will produce in the material conditions of our lives.

Our thoughts and actions can be either jailors, imprisoning us in degrading circumstances, or angels of freedom, liberating us to achieve our noble potential.

The relationship between attitudes and circumstances is now well recognized, captured in aphorisms like “Change your attitudes and you change your life” and “It’s not your aptitude but your attitude that determines your altitude.”

But it’s Allen’s connection between thoughts and character that’s especially interesting. Yes, our destiny is determined by our character, but our character is not determined by our destiny.

We can’t always control when bad thoughts and negative impulses enter our minds, but we can decide to either nurture or reject them.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:12 AM | Permalink | Comment (5)

Some time ago, I received a handwritten message on a yellow self-stick note attached to a torn-out page from a magazine about a new book. The note said, “Mike, thought you might be interested.” It was signed “L.” It was sent in a non-business envelope with a stamp, but no return address. My assistant thought it was a personal message from a friend and put it on top of my correspondence.

It wasn’t from anyone I knew. It was a marketing trick to sell the book.

I’m sure you’ve seen other deceptive ploys: mailings disguised as telegrams, urgent “personal” messages, announcements that you’ve won something, window envelopes whose interior looks like a check. An especially audacious variation is the salesperson who calls pretending he knows you. To get through the screening process, he or she will shamelessly try to con your secretary with “Oh, he knows what it’s about” or “He asked me to call.”

These are all lies and deceptions, but they’re used because they work. The people who send them don’t care about their credibility or who they offend. No one knows who they are.

While one can appreciate resourceful techniques, clever dishonesty doesn’t make an action less despicable. I make it a rule to never do business with anyone who uses such techniques.

What’s the harm? The harm is that someone has invaded my life with a lie, depriving me of the choice to decide what I will read and whom I will talk to. Worse, it erodes trust and builds cynicism. Dishonest merchants don’t deserve your business.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:49 AM | Permalink | Comment (4)

Whenever I’m asked to give a commencement speech, I’m intimidated by the challenge of finding something to say that’s profound and practical without being trite. I haven’t succeeded yet, but that hasn’t stopped me from trying. So here are some thoughts for graduates:

• By all means, set goals and go after your dreams, but know that your ultimate happiness will depend not on your plans but your ability to cope with unexpected turns and unavoidable ups and downs. You may not get what you thought you wanted, but if you’re willing to adapt, you can get something even better.


• Don’t ever underestimate the power of character. If you want to win, don’t whine. Success is made from hard work, perseverance, and integrity, not luck.


• Listen to both your heart and your head. Pursue your passions, but don’t confuse feelings with facts. Almost nothing is as good or as bad as it first appears, and all things change.


• Remember, pain and disappointment are inevitable, but tough times are temporary. The enduring impact of experiences and the true nature of relationships are only revealed by time. Persist with confidence that no negative emotion can withstand your will to be happy.


• Fill your life with laughter, but don’t confuse fun or pleasure with happiness. Don’t sacrifice a thousand tomorrows for a few todays.


• Live within your means and don’t overestimate your ability to resist temptations that threaten your relationships or reputation.


• How you make a living is important, but how you make a life is vital. If you don’t pay attention to your personal relationships, no amount of career success will be enough.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:30 AM | Permalink | Comment (4)

Dave had to undergo painful throat surgery. Since he wasn’t a young man and made his living as a professional speaker, the experience was frightening and traumatic.

He told me his surgeon was skilled and the hospital workers were competent, but the cold indifference of the parade of nurses and doctors who came in and out of his room was one of the most depressing, demoralizing, and dehumanizing experiences of his life.

They treated his disease rather than treating him as a person with a disease, often talking in front of him as if he were a dumb animal who couldn’t understand or wouldn’t mind what they were saying. Although they were assigned to his care, they acted as if they didn’t care. Their behavior was outright toxic.

I can understand why medical practitioners keep an emotional distance from human suffering as a form of self-protection. And I understand how confronting difficult and demanding patients as well as pain, disease, and death on a daily basis can form calluses around one’s heart. But when professional distance translates to disrespect, it’s a form of malpractice.

The job of medical professionals is not simply to cure disease but to care for the overall well-being of patients. They do their job best when they help patients get better and help them feel better.

What saved him, Dave said, wasn’t the pain-killing drugs but the attitude of a few nurses who uplifted his spirits by simple acts of human decency – a smile, a kind word, a compassionate expression or tone – that conveyed the message that they truly cared.

We have to love and admire those who can bring their hearts to their work, knowing that mental sunshine and flowers are powerful medicines.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:31 AM | Permalink | Comment (8)

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who think there are two kinds of people in the world and those who think those who think there are two kinds of people in the world are self-righteous jerks.

A listener called me to task concerning a story about a man who told his son there are two kinds of people: those who return their shopping carts and those who don’t.

His first point was that it’s dangerous and foolish to use simplistic categorizations. On this I have to agree, although I didn’t think the father who divided the world into two categories was being literal. I think he was making the point that we all have endless choices – either to do the right thing instinctively and consistently or to join those who find excuses not to. The original story came from a book Hugs for Dad by John William Smith. I don’t know if it’s literally true or not, but it’s a powerful parable.

His second point was that he objected to the implication that anyone who doesn’t return shopping carts is falling short on any scale of virtue. “As long as markets pay union wages and benefits to employees to collect these carts,” he said, “I shouldn’t reduce the amount of their work.”

This rationale ignores the story’s main message: Be considerate, clean up after yourself, and make life easier, not harder, for the next guy. Under his analysis, we help custodians and housekeepers by making a mess.

I don’t think I was a bad person when I didn’t return shopping carts, but I think I’m a little bit better now that I do. You see, there are two kinds of people in the world: those who want to be better and those who don’t.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:56 AM | Permalink | Comment (9)

Some dear friends, Bert and Mike Turitz, lost their son Jason recently. I wrote this poem on their behalf:

It’s not supposed to be this way.
No mom or dad should have to say a final goodbye to their child.

Our son’s life journey was not supposed to be so short.

It’s not supposed to be this way.
But it is.

He is gone and we are left with a choice that will alter our lives forever.

We could refuse to allow our ripped hearts to heal.

We could keep our grief alive by reliving our pain every time we think or talk of him.

We could dwell on the birthdays we’ll never celebrate, the conversations we’ll never have, and the smiles we'll never see.

Or we could protect ourselves by banishing all thoughts and talk of him,
locking our memories in the basement of our minds.

But we will not abandon our son.

We will not dishonor his life
by draping in black every thought of the child, boy, and young man who blessed our lives in so many ways.

Our son had the spirit of an eagle
that must not be confined to a dark dungeon damp with tears.

We will let his eagle soar around, above, and within us,
a source of delight and strength, not a cause of despair or surrender.

It may take a while,
but we will smother our grief in gratitude.

We will honor his life by rejoicing in our good fortune that he was ours for a while.

We will move beyond our sorrow,
remembering all the funny, silly, and ridiculous things he did and the thousand moments of joy he gave us.

We will treasure what he left us and be thankful how he changed us.

We will choose to keep our son alive.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

If you or a member of your family has suffered a loss of a loved one, you might find comforting resources and helpful strategies at www.griefhaven.com.

In anticipation of the above funeral, I wrote this message on both my Commentary and CHARACTER COUNTS! Facebook pages:
Living through each day of pain and grief is a process that eventually unfolds into uncharted territory. Staying in the moment, living for five minutes at a time, is all that one needs to focus on. Not tomorrow, not next year, not even tonight. Just right now. Breathe deeply. Do soothing things...warm baths, warm milk, treat yourself as an infant. Comfort yourself. Do anything that makes you feel safe and comfortable, five minutes at a time. It will ease...in time.

Being able to handle the death of someone close to you involves internalizing a deeper understanding of life: we are not here forever. Losing someone close can feel as though life is so radically different for the one left behind that life as we knew it is over for us...unless we live each day loving those close to us and being grateful for their place in our lives, as temporary as it is.

Recently, I also received this message on my Commentary Facebook:
“Please help me. On 4/3/10 I lost my only beloved child, Ben, 27, to an overdose. I came home and found him. I am consumed by grief. It gets worse and worse as each day passes. His father passed away when he was 4 months old. I thought that was a difficult time. I have come to realize this is soooo much worse. I have great friends, we talk about Ben, they call, they try to keep me distracted. It seems all I do is cry, cry, and cry. I cry myself to sleep often. I feel no guilt, only joy for the time we had together.”

My reply:
You are in the midst of a horrible journey through grief, and the only way to survive it is to force yourself forward. There are many who want to help, but ultimately your emotional survival depends on your determination, against all your instincts to surrender, to muster the inner resources to accept your new awful reality and find new purpose.

To read some of my favorite poems on the grieving process, click here.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 11:17 AM | Permalink | Comment (3)

It's hard to look at the world and some of the people who seem to get ahead without occasionally asking ourselves why we should be ethical. However normal it is to think like this, the question should be off limits for people who profess strong religious beliefs. After all, what religion does not mandate morality?

To authentically religious people, the motivation toward virtue is grounded in the acceptance of a nonnegotiable duty to be a good person in the eyes of God, not in anticipation of personal benefits. Dishonest, irresponsible, or unfair conduct is simply wrong.

Although there are skeptics who are suspicious of the rhetoric of religious advocates and proselytizers, there is a positive correlation between religious conviction and virtue. I think the vast majority of deeply religious people draw guidance and strength from their beliefs and live better if not perfect lives.

Still, religious claims and even sincere convictions are no guarantee of genuine righteousness.

Besides disturbed individuals such as those who believe God commands them to perform horrible acts, discredited televangelist preachers, and priests who molest parishioners, we must face the fact that Bernie Ebbers of WorldCom and John Rigas of Adelphia, the masterminds of some of the world's greatest swindles, were highly vocal and visible about their Christian beliefs.

Whether such wrongdoers are mentally ill, hypocrites, frauds, or sincere believers with personal weaknesses, their stories remind us that we can't take for granted the link between religious claims and worthy conduct. It's not that religion fails people; it's that people fail their religion.

In the end, regardless of its source, righteousness is revealed in ethical and upright conduct, not rhetoric.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:42 AM | Permalink | Comment (18)

For most of us, there’s something both wonderful and worrisome about large family gatherings. On the good side, we often can experience real pleasure in spending time with relatives with whom we have so many common memories. What’s more, being with parents, siblings, and cousins who’ve known us since childhood often helps us see ourselves more clearly without pretensions or illusions of self-importance. Finally, shared family history and the ties of blood and marriage can create a tribal sense of identity and belonging that’s comforting.

Yet few families are able to avoid the rifts and feuds caused by unpaid loans, unreturned favors, unfulfilled requests for help, broken promises, or careless or cruel comments or gossip. Although we think we should love everyone in our family, we often don’t. Many of us have to struggle against the wisdom of the old adage “familiarity breeds contempt.”

But in a world so filled with throwaway and transitory relationships, we should more highly prize the stability and strength of family ties. In dealing with family, we have a greater, not a lesser, obligation to avoid unkind, insensitive, and hurtful remarks that can spawn resentments and grudges. We need to monitor the tendency to feel competitive or envious and, instead, take pride and pleasure in the success of any family member.

Some of your most enduring and endearing friendships will come from your family.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:34 AM | Permalink | Comment (7)

One of the marks of our species is our limitless capacity to learn. Sometimes we learn how to do something we’ve never done before. Sometimes we learn facts about the world, about other people, and about ourselves.

These sorts of things make us smarter and more skillful. But what’s really important are the things that make us wiser, our learned beliefs about what works and what doesn’t, what leads to happiness and fulfillment.

It’s a tradition in many Jewish families for parents to pass on these life lessons in the form of an “ethical will.” The document, often in the form of a letter, is a kind of spiritual and intellectual autobiography that can become a treasured memento to future generations.

In addition, the experience of putting nuggets of hard-earned wisdom into words can be enormously uplifting and gratifying. There’s no prescribed format, but an easy way is to complete this sentence: “I’ve learned that ________” or “I believe that _________.”

Once you start thinking of all the valuable things you’ve learned, you’re likely to unleash a flood of thoughts. To help identify and sort through what’s important, state your insights and beliefs in relation to 12 key topics:

1. Religion, faith, and spirituality
2. Personal integrity, character, and ethics
3. Marriage and family relationships
4. Friendship and other relationships
5. Money and material possessions
6. Success and failure
7. Education and experience
8. Personal responsibility
9. Attitude
10. Charity and service
11. Drinking and drugs
12. Sex

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:13 AM | Permalink | Comment (1)

Former President Jimmy Carter was 70 years old when he wrote this poem about his father:

This is a pain I mostly hide,
But ties of blood or seed endure.
And even now I feel inside
The hunger for his outstretched hand.
A man’s embrace to take me in,
The need for just a word of praise.

Yet not all bad parents are bad people. Even caring parents can unintentionally injure children through excessive harshness or permissiveness or through well-intended criticism and advice that comes out as relentless disapproval or oppressive negativity. Kids not only need to know they’re loved, they need to feel worthy of our love. They need to be valued not simply because they’re ours but because of who they are.

It’s never too late to try to fix whatever’s broken:

• Express caring, pride, and approval more lavishly and often.


• Be less critical, more helpful, and less controlling.


• Set aside your need to be right.


• Be less self-righteous and more respectful toward those you love.


• Be sincerely accountable and genuinely apologize, even if whatever you do may not be enough.

It’s not always possible to fix things that are broken, but it’s worth a try.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:55 AM | Permalink | Comment (1)

According to legend, a Russian countess was driven to the theater by her coach on a bitterly cold evening. To be sure she wouldn’t have to wait afterward, she ordered the driver and footman to remain outside until she returned.

She cried during the play when a loyal servant was being mistreated by an uncaring lord. When the performance ended, it was snowing heavily outside and a small crowd had gathered around her carriage. She demanded to know what was going on. The driver fearfully told her that the old footman who had stayed with the coach as she ordered had frozen to death. The lady was appalled.

How could a sensitive woman who cried at the plight of fictional characters be so callous about the comfort and safety of her own servants?

Sometimes people see only what they want to see and know only what they want to know. It’s a form of willful blindness that afflicts many of us who profess grand principles of caring and respect, which we ignore when dealing with people in our own lives.

I’ve seen parents who want their children to be happy, self-confident, and honest, yet brutalize their kids with relentless criticism and confuse them by cheating on their taxes or lying to get them into better schools.

Sometimes well-intentioned coaches ignore injuries, emotionally abuse young athletes, or work them as if they were in a slave-labor camp – all the while convincing themselves it’s for the athletes’ own good.

And I’ve worked with executives in companies that advocate employee well-being and family values who look the other way when employees, either out of fear or the desire to please, work excessively long hours and neglect their families, causing stress and domestic conflict.

We all have moral blind spots. The challenge is to have the humility to find them and the character to fix them.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:31 AM | Permalink | Comment (1)

Let’s be honest. Ethics isn’t for wimps.

It’s not easy being a good person.

It’s not easy to be honest when it might be costly, to play fair when others cheat, or to keep inconvenient promises.

It’s not easy to stand up for our beliefs and still respect differing viewpoints.

It’s not easy to control powerful impulses, to be accountable for our attitudes and actions, to tackle unpleasant tasks, or to sacrifice the now for later.

It’s not easy to bear criticism and learn from it without getting angry, to take advice, or to admit error.

It’s not easy to feel genuine remorse and apologize sincerely or to accept apologies graciously and truly forgive.

It’s not easy to stop feeling like a victim, to resist cynicism, or to make the best of every situation.

It’s not easy to be consistently kind, to think of others first, to judge generously, or to give the benefit of the doubt.

It’s not easy to be grateful or to give without concern for reward or gratitude.

It’s not easy to fail and still keep trying, to learn from failure, to risk failing again, to start over, to lose with grace, or to be glad of another’s success.

It’s not easy to look at ourselves honestly and be accountable, to avoid excuses and rationalizations, or to resist temptations.

No, being a person of character isn’t easy. That’s why it’s such a lofty goal and an admirable achievement.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 11:28 AM | Permalink | Comment (12)

In looking for unusually insightful observations to share with you, I came across comments that idealized mothers like this Jewish proverb: “God created mothers because He could not be everywhere.”

Other observations are more critical such as Sydney Harris’s: “A common fallacy among women is that simply having children makes one a mother – which is as absurd as believing that having a piano makes one a musician.”

Jackie Kennedy Onassis offered another perspective: “If you bungle raising your children, I don’t think whatever else you do well matters very much.”

This made me wonder what contemporary mothers think. I asked people who frequent this Commentary and CHARACTER COUNTS Facebook pages, “What’s the most significant or profound thing you’ve learned and felt as a mom?”

Here are some of their answers:

• I learned that my heart beats inside my child. My love and energy are a part of her.


• There’s no limit on the amount of joy or pride or pain you can feel.


• Pick your battles.


• Leading by example goes a long, long way.


• I can never hug, or tell my children I love them, too much.


• Enjoy every single second. They grow up way too fast.


• I’ve learned that I’m capable of far more unconditional love than I ever thought I could be.

Finally, one mom put it simply but eloquently: “I came to experience inescapable, wonderful, beautiful, unconditional love.”

What are your special memories of your mom or about being a mom?

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 1:10 PM | Permalink | Comment (4)

Mothers. What class of people has been more glorified or vilified?

On the one hand, there’s the idealized image of selfless, wise, patient, and loving maternal perfection celebrated in greeting cards, songs, and “I Love Mom” tattoos.

On the other are the darker stereotypes of the controlling, never-satisfied, self-absorbed mother responsible for the insecurities and hang-ups of her children; the wicked stepmother of fairy tales; and the interfering, old-bag mother-in-law depicted by stand-up comedians.

Hardly anyone’s mother fits any of these images. Real moms come in an infinite variety of packages, including an array of virtues and faults. What’s more, our attitudes toward our mothers are so often distorted by the memories we choose to emphasize that it’s hard to know the objective reality – if there is one. Thus, some approach Mother’s Day with love and gratitude while others find themselves fighting or indulging feelings of resentment.

I’m on the gratitude side. My mom died in her early 40s of breast cancer shortly after giving birth to her sixth child. I wish I had her longer, but my memories are good ones.

Now, Mother’s Day is all about the greatest mother I’ve ever known, my wife Anne. Although I appreciate mothers who’ve made other choices, I marvel that this beautiful, smart, and funny graduate of an Ivy League college chose to shelve her personal ambitions in devotion to the most difficult, important, frustrating, exhausting, and fulfilling job in the word – being a mom to our four little girls.

So for me, no greeting card tribute is too corny for the mother I will honor and thank this Sunday: my friend, companion, and lover, Anne.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comment (3)

T.S. Eliot said, “Half of the harm that is done in this world is due to people who want to feel important. They do not mean to do harm…they are absorbed in the endless struggle to think well of themselves.”

How do we feel important? Often, it’s by trying to obtain an image of success created by a culture that prizes getting ahead in terms of money and career. Think how much more integrity there would be if we understood how futile it is to pursue the empty vessel of prosperity.

In The Death of Ethics in America, Cal Thomas quotes a letter written to The Washington Post in the mid-1980s: “I’ve lived both lives, Yuppie and non-Yuppie,” the person wrote. “In the first, I was married to a professional woman, and on our dual incomes we Club Med-ed, sports car-raced, alpine-skied, and Kennedy-Centered our 14-year marriage into oblivion. I‘m now 42, remarried to a woman who gave up her professional career to provide full-time care for our 1- and 5-year-old daughters, and living in Gaithersburg, Maryland – on one salary.

“Trips to Australia and Europe, Saturday night dining at Nathan’s, and Wolf Trap concerts are distant memories. Vacations are now taken in our nine-year-old used pop-up camper, and dining out means ‘Hooray! Daddy’s bringing home a pizza.’ We’ve just started into the second round of one hundred readings of Pat the Bunny for our 1-year-old. Satisfaction level in my first life measured about 2 on the 10 scale. Measured now, satisfaction is about 9.5.”

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:52 AM | Permalink | Comment (3)

When I was a kid playing sports, there were no clubs, travel teams, or private coaches. Except for summer baseball leagues, the primary place to play was high school. When I was in the 10th grade, I wanted to play basketball in the worst way.

Unfortunately, given my size and talent, that’s how I played. But in those days, sports was part of the educational program. To accommodate every kid who wanted to play, there were four skill levels: varsity, junior varsity, B, and C teams.

I was a third-stringer on the C team, with the ambition to play in 12 quarters during the season, the minimum requirement for a letterman’s jacket.

Fortunately, the coach liked my spunk and put me in at the end of games when I could do no harm. In the last quarter of the last game, he made sure I got my letter by giving me an eight-second stint. Although I think I played less than two minutes of game time during that season, I was part of the team and played in every practice.

Three years later, I was the only senior still on the C team, but I was a starter! Of all my high school achievements, none was more important than my three basketball letters.

But it wasn't just recreation. It was education. My sports experience strengthened my character and helped me develop important life skills, including goal-setting, preparation, and perseverance. It also taught me a lot about honor and sportsmanship.

So when you read chilling stories about cheating coaches, out-of-control fans, or spoiled athletes, don’t blame sports. Blame the people who aren’t doing it right.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:26 AM | Permalink | Comment (4)

Long ago when I was a law professor, I was at a conference. A man I didn’t recognize greeted me warmly and said he wanted to thank me for changing his life.

I was embarrassed as I listened to him tell me that he had met me after a speech I’d given at his law school. He said he’d been discouraged and disheartened about ever becoming a lawyer and was ready to quit. But after I had counseled him, he’d decided to stick it out.

He said he’d been looking for me so he could tell me personally that not only had he graduated but had just become the nation’s first Mexican-American law school dean.

His decision to seek me out to share the story was a generous and much-appreciated gift that I’ll never forget. But his description didn’t ignite any memory of him. I felt shallow and ashamed. Here this fellow was expressing deep gratitude for something I couldn’t recall.

I only began to forgive myself when I realized I didn’t remember the incident because I often engaged in this sort of discussion with students, so the conversation had not been extraordinary for me. That’s what teachers are supposed to do: share their knowledge, provide alternative perspectives, and offer encouragement and inspiration.

Teachable moments often arise unannounced and unnoticed. Teachers and parents hardly ever know what will be remembered and what will be forgotten. But if we want to have an occasional lasting impact, we have to have faith that at least some of the things we say will matter.

And since we can’t always know what those things are, we have to presume that everything we say will matter.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:48 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)