Do the Right Thing Anyway

My topic for today was going to be integrity but I didn't have it all worked out in my head quite yet.  Then, before I could start writing, I heard Reba McEntire's song "You Lie" on the radio. I don't know if you've ever had one of those moments when something just seems to land at exactly the right time, but as I listened to that song, I thought, Well, I guess I know what I'm supposed to write about.  Integrity it is.

Our family has been dealing with numerous car issues over the past month or so, and it got me thinking about the job of a car salesman. Car salesmen seem to have always gotten a bad rap. But I started wondering: How did we get here? How did an industry become so associated with deception, pressure, and slimy sales tactics?  When Henry Ford started in the automobile business, what were his goals? What was his vision for the future? How did he want his employees to represent his brand and treat the people who trusted them?  I don't know the answers to all of those questions, but I do know this: trust has to be at the heart of any good business.

My dad was a car guy. He taught me well—although I'm not sure Mom would agree with that statement!  How many times did Dad leave the house in Mom's car and come home with something new?  My favorite will always be the white Buick with the sunroof. It had a little ledge on the passenger side that, as a kid, I imagined was a piano. I would "play" along with the radio on the way to youth group.  My dad trusted Billy Leman, and he must have been honest because if he wasn't, there is no way my dad would have continued doing business with him.  That memory makes me wonder: What has happened that we have come to believe deception and lying are ever okay? 

Recently, we took our truck in for some warranty work. After a month and a half of no return phone calls, I finally decided to call the warranty company myself.  That's when I discovered the dealership had never even contacted them.  Most of the time when I ask someone a question, I already know the answer. Unfortunately, over the years, I've learned not to automatically trust people to tell me the truth.  And when someone outright lies to me, it doesn't just frustrate me. It disappoints me.  It chips away at my trust in people. It makes me wonder why telling the truth seems so difficult when, in the end, honesty is usually the simplest path.  I called the service worker. I was told he was "leaving for lunch and would call me back."  Around 3:00 that afternoon, he called.  He explained that the warranty company had changed its policy. He said they had sent pictures and videos and were now going to reach out to someone else for help.

I was quiet.

Mostly, I was disappointed again.  So I called the warranty company myself.  They told me something very different.  The dealership had contacted them that very day, and a ticket had been created at 2:30 p.m.—about 30 minutes before the service worker called me.  I sat there thinking about the word that had been on my mind all along:  Integrity.

If there is one lesson I taught as an elementary school counselor that I hope stayed with my "littles," it is this:  Have integrity. Do the right thing even when no one is watching.  But I would take it one step further:  Own your mistakes.  We are all going to mess up. We are going to forget things. We are going to drop the ball. We are going to make decisions we wish we could take back.  That's life.  The mistake isn't always the problem.  What we do after the mistake is what matters.

Tell the truth.

Own it.

Apologize.

Make it right.

I've had supervisors do the same thing—tell me, "We don't do that," when I already know the answer is, "Yes, we do." 

Unfortunately, over the years, I've learned to apologize more than I probably should. Sometimes I've apologized simply because I didn't want to make someone uncomfortable, even when I wasn't the one who had done something wrong.  But at the end of the day, I hope the people who encounter me know three things:

I see you.

I hear you.

And I will own my mistakes.

Trust me, I've made plenty.  I'm still making them.  But I hope that when I do, the people around me never have to wonder whether I will tell the truth.  Because integrity isn't about being perfect.  It's about being honest when being honest is hard.  It's about doing the right thing when no one is watching.  It's about admitting when you are wrong instead of creating a story that makes you look right.  And maybe most importantly, it's about remembering that every interaction we have with another person either builds trust or takes a little bit of it away.  I want to be someone who builds it.  I am not perfect but with God's grace I am trying a little bit harder each day.