I lie, cheat and steal, but I’m still a good person
I saw a piece on the news last night about high school students and cheating. A national survey on honesty and ethics was given to 30,000 students in high schools across the U.S. As was reported, ‘the results paint a troubling picture of our future politicians and parents, cops and corporate executives, and journalists and generals.’
What is the problem? Well, the cheating rates have increased, but that doesn’t really surprise me. What surprised me was that the survey (from the Josephson Institute 2008 Report Card on the Ethics of American Youth) reports that “a whopping 93 percent said they were satisfied with their personal ethics and character, and 77 percent said that when it comes to doing what is right, I am better than most people I know“. And yet more students are reporting dishonesty! 26 percent (1 in 4) even confessed “they lied on at least one or two questions on the survey.”
Wow. Not only are lying and cheating and stealing rates increasing (which makes sense with the growing competition and expectations on youth today , as well as the increased availability to cheat), but the youth are viewing this behavior as normal, acceptable, and even appropriate.
Dishonesty may be more prevalent today, but I don’t want my kids to think that makes it ‘more ok.’ This is a blunt reminder that I need to be activiely teaching my kids what it means to be honest, moral people.
When my oldest was 3 or 4 years old, I told him he could not go outside and play because it was raining. 10 minutes later, he came into the kitchen and said angrily, “Mom, you are a liar!” “Why am I a liar?” I asked. “You said I couldn’t play outside because it was raining. But it’s NOT raining. Look!” Sure enough, the clouds had parted and the sun was shining. And I was now a liar. We had to re-define ‘lying’ that sunny, rainless morning. My son had outgrown the simple definition of lying that had once pacified him; lying= saying things that aren’t true. He was ready for, and needed, a deeper understanding of honesty.
It is so simple to define- just tell the truth and don’t take anything that isn’t yours. But somehow, there are a lot of undefined, gray areas that require thinking and analyzing. What is moral in this situation? How am I rationalizing my actions to get what I want? Does it matter if nobody notices what I’ve done and if it doesn’t hurt anyone?
There is a great parenting book on this subject called, ‘Teaching Your Children Values,‘ by Linda and Richard Eyre. (You can even read the first 60 pages online!) They show you how to teach 12 morals and values (one value each month) to your kids. They use specific examples and even tailor it to each age group. I don’t think you have to sit down and lecture honesty for it to be effective. You can throw it into many a conversation, or even demonstrate it yourself in your everyday actions.
I remember reading a book of fables growing up that taught virtues and values. It was a great way to read a fun story, and then dissect the events and consequences of the story. My mother-in-law had a book like this that I read to my oldest when we lived there. He loved the fables, usually about dogs, cats, mice, or silly boys. I was always surprised at how many morals he could pull from one story, and I loved that he was making the connections on his own.
I think I know how to discuss morals with my young kids, but I’m wondering how one handles this with older kids… those naughty teens that on the whole, are lying and cheating. How do you teach them to say no to drugs, but to also say no to the answers to a test, or an already used essay? How do you teach them that though performance is important, integrity is better?
For a brilliant, fantastic talk on honesty to share with your kids by Richard C. Edgley, click here.
For the original Josepson Institute 2008 Report Card on the Ethics of American Youth, click here.
See the entire news article here.
This reminded me of something from my deep dark past. Bethy, you may not know this one. When i was really young (I can’t really remember my age, pre-teen but old enough to be loitering around a grocery store at night), I was loitering around a grocery store at night with a friend who was somewhat of the riff-raff persuasion.
Somehow the thrill of getting outside the store unnoticed with a toy seemed exciting so I tucked it under my shirt and nonchalantly headed for the front doors. It came as an utter surprise when a tall man suddenly entered my personal space, grabbed my shoulder and said “show me what you have under your shirt.”
With an audience of shoppers passing by I shivered with terror while handing over the contraband. It’s kind of a blur after that, but my memory picks up with my dad driving me home and leading me into his bedroom where my mom was.
He closed the door and stood me up in front of her saying “Calvin has something he needs to tell you.” Now, other than my own shivers at having been caught, the morality of the situation hadn’t really been a major factor for me. My mother was an extremely loving, caring, and forgiving person, and I assumed this would be the easiest of all the confrontations I had just experienced. In an attempt to jump past the difficult part and demonstrate I had already learned my lesson, i remorsefully declared “Mom, tonight . . . I was caught shoplifting.”
What followed left a lasting and unforgettable impression on my mind and heart. Instead of looking at me with understanding, she instead looked over at my Dad, burst into tears and almost pleaded the words “Ken . . . is he serious?”
I became a statue of shock and bewilderment. What had seemed like such a momentary blunder to me had apparently destroyed something tender and meaningful inside my mother. I did that.
As I watched her cry, my mind began searching frantically to understand why this was such an important matter. I thought I had stepped in the realm of mischief, but to my mother I had tread upon something sacred.
The confrontation with the store security guard, my dad’s look of disappointment, the First Counselor in the Bishopric who happened to be shopping nearby the moment i was caught, all of these moments of shame paled in comparison to the fact that I had betrayed whatever belief my mother had in me.
I don’t remember much after that. Her first reaction seared itself into my mind and drown out all the rest. We spoke for quite a while after my mother calmed down. There was no further punishment that I can recall, there was no need. I never entertained the idea of stealing anything again.
Whereas i hadn’t previously known where to place that behavior on the scale of importance, I then knew where my mother placed it and that was enough.
I know all kids aren’t just like I was (thank goodness). I was the kind of kid who could never seem to figure a thing out until I experienced the good and the bad of it . . . drove my parents crazy. But what helped more than anything was that my parents had worked VERY hard to establish a close relationship with me.
My childhood memories are FILLED with one-on-one conversations, teaching, mentoring, expressing confidence, love, encouragement, tenderness, laughing, and also moments of correction, discipline, severity, always followed by a sincere outpouring of love. When I recognized how important not stealing was to my mother, I cared about it because I cared about her and I knew she cared about me. We were close.
It’s wonderful to imagine all kids will be born with the ability to immediately place right and wrong in their proper framework the moment we explain it to them. But I think its more realistic to assume that by developing relationships of complete trust, and demonstrating what right and wrong means to us in the way we walk every day, our children will have a much better chance of eventually arriving at those conclusions themselves.
Wow. I never knew that, Cal. I always thought that I was the black sheep.
Not to make this into confession time, but I want to emphasize the truth behind what you just said by relating my own story. I trust it is appropriate to do so.
My junior year of high school was a rough time for me spiritually. One of the poor choices I made was to start shoplifting, and it didn’t take long to discover that I was quite good at it. I grew more bold in my attempts, until one day, as I was leaving a store with quite a few CD’s stuffed in my jacket, I was stopped by a security guard who asked me to empty my pockets. I immediately felt the embarrassment and fear that comes from getting caught. The guard took me into the security room, verbally blasted me for my crime, and then–perhaps after seeing how absolutely pitiful I must have looked (I have since imagined that he must have felt like he caught a deer stealing and ended up taking pity on the animal because of how scared and weak it looked while he was yelling at and intimidating it)–gave me the choice of calling the police or my dad. I can honestly say that I debated calling the police instead of Dad, because I did not want to face him. I knew how embarrassed, hurt and angry he’d be. Quickly though, I realized that Dad would have to come bail me out and would find out anyway. I called Dad, explained over the phone, he came down, had a chat with the guard (who let me off far more easily than should be expected), and then escorted me out of the store. In the parking lot, I expected Dad to come down on me hard. In fact, I had been preparing for it and could feel my heart hardening at the prospect of it. I almost anticipated the fight. Instead, Dad gave me a sincere and heartfelt hug, said he loved me and was still proud of me and that he was sorry that he had been neglecting me and that he would make a better effort to be there for me. It was the complete opposite of what I was expecting and I didn’t know what to do except cry and feel utterly ashamed of myself, what I had done, and who I was becoming.
I could see how much my actions had hurt my father, and it killed me inside. It was only a few months later that Dad and Larainne sent me on that church history trip (that I really did not want to go on but am so glad I did), and I gained a testimony of my Savior; of His gospel, church, and prophets; and of the Atonement. It was certainly a turning point in my life. What initially helped me to feel remorse for my actions was the relationship that I had with my dad. I wasn’t in a place where I was allowing the Spirit to penetrate my heart, but, when I saw that I had hurt my loving and caring father with whom I had a very close relationship, I let the Spirit in and it touched me profoundly.
In the end, all I can really say (not having kids myself) is that I can see how important it is for a parent to live and lead by example. When a parent can couple that example with a deep and sincere love for their child, the parent’s testimony can inspire and teach their child in ways the parent may never truly understand. But the child will. My dad still doesn’t understand what impact his actions had on me that day. When I have tried to tell him and thank him, my words don’t do it justice. For him it was my own innate spirituality and goodness, and it was the Lord reaching down to touch and bless his son; I don’t think he knows that his love for me was the catalyst that touched me enough to where I would finally WANT to listen to the Lord and feel the Spirit. I take nothing away from the Lord, because it truly IS the Lord who has made everything good in my life possible, but that knowledge comes with the recognition of how powerful an effect the love of a parent can have on their child. I will forever be grateful for my Father in Heaven for sending me to my family. I will forever be grateful for my father Ken, for his love for me, and especially the ways that he has shown that love through his own life and in his interactions with mine.
Wow John,
Baaaaaaaaaaaaa.
I am thankful you both shared these experiences brothers of mine! Honesty is one thing that is critical. Jeremy and I have joked that I could talk a potential sale out of the sale if I felt they didn’t need the item (speaking of selling pest control services door to door in the early part of our marriage!) But I had a mother also who marched me into the store with the half-opened pack of gum to say I was sorry and pay for it!
I made my own three year old do the same thing recently when he opened a chocolate bar the other day and started to eat it in the store. I was saddened by the store manager who I requested to see with him. He could have left a more permanent impression on my young son. He himself didn’t seem to fazed by the whole deal and I ended up doing the wording for him with him right there… do you understand it was wrong to take that? Why? It doesn’t belong to you. What do you need to do to make it right.? I bought the chocolate bar and threw it in the garbage right then. My kids thought I was crazy to do that (they were all there that day shopping with me which now that I think about it may not have been a coincidence!) I explained that when we steal something and then get caught and have to pay for it, there is no way we are keeping the item as if it is ours. We took what wasn’t our own and we have a price without getting some type of reward for our behavior! We talk often about honesty!
I love it!