The Importance of Character

This blog post was originally published on The Stoic Student

Written Andrew Kuttain

David was an anomaly. Growing up in a small town in Northern Ontario, he excelled in many of his academic and extracurricular pursuits: sharp in class, even sharper on the ice rink. His success in both endeavours landed him in a prestigious college just a tad bit south of Ontario. You might’ve heard of it.

Harvard.

Now David wasn’t one to settle for some notable success: he was a leader at heart and strove to be as engaged and involved as one student could be. During his time at Harvard, he contributed to his campus in multiple ways: hockey and a high-ranking student club were the two notable ones. The club he joined was known as a Finals Club — a prestigious, closed-member organization for undergraduate students. Finals Clubs were social, network-oriented, and could only be joined by a committee selection.

David met many elite minds at Harvard — some who earned it through hard work and determination (like himself) and many who had their paths paved by rich families and private tutors. Studying at Harvard had its perks — studying with bright minds, interacting with deeply knowledgeable professors, and enjoying the benefits of studying at a high-level institution to name a few. But there was a problem with all this. An unspoken one. In elite circles, exclusion could arise. You couldn’t join unless you fit “the criteria”. And what David didn’t realize until later was that, sometimes, the criteria wasn’t the most equitable.

A while into his time with the finals club, a Nigerian student applied to join. But in order to join, he had to be accepted by a committee who voted on his membership. The same process David went through. The same one he passed.

When the committee met, however, they came to a different conclusion. They rejected his application.

The reason? They felt their alumni wouldn’t be prepared for a student of colour to be part of the club. That was it.

David, having heard of the voting result and the rationale, was struck. Civil rights weren’t globally prominent yet, but David knew this decision was wrong. And it bothered him a great deal. Faced with this outcome, he had to make a decision about what he would do in response. And he decided quickly.

He contacted the club officials and resigned.

David, reflecting on his decision, later said that he was “simply uncomfortable being a member of a club that had just denied membership to a man based solely on the colour of his skin”.

He didn’t make a big deal out of it. He didn’t turn to the media, or write an opinion piece in the college newspapers, or criticize members of the club — he acknowledged the decision, and quit. It was against his own moral code.

And at the end of the day, that’s all we have, isn’t it?

Life is full of complexities and ambiguities. It throws setbacks, challenges, and conflicts at us. Sometimes those decisions are small — like whether to tell a lie or to respond negatively to someone. Sometimes they’re big — like whether or not we’ll continue to support an organization that has broken a rule we hold dearly.

Sometimes we can turn a blind eye to these decisions — I know I have. But that doesn’t make it right. Each and every one of us has a duty to live morally — to live by a code if you will. A set of rules that determine our decisions, and by extension our destiny. David’s rule was simple: he could not support an organization that discriminated based on skin colour. That was one of many of his rules.

What are yours?

Fast forward to three years later. David, now a senior, was elected class marshal of that same club, alongside three others. A class marshal was no small role: as the de facto organizers for all senior year events, each was tasked with an extremely important role, and worked with the Harvard Alumni Association closely. Fundraising, finances, senior gifts, and more were the responsibilities of these few individuals.

There were two things that made this group unique: for one, David, despite being a member, was not your typical class marshal. Yes, he was a Harvard student. But he was not part of the elite circle that had ownership over that position. Traditionally, class marshals were legacy students who came from rich families in America. He wasn’t a legacy student or came from a rich family. He was a kid from a small town in Northern Ontario. And his election broke that mould.

And the second? Alongside David was an African-American student also elected to class marshal. The first time the club ever elected a person of colour.

Was this student’s election a result of David’s action? Was David’s own election a result of his action? Maybe. Maybe not. But what we know is that David stood by what he believed in — even when everyone around him thought otherwise.

Perhaps it’s time we do the same.

“Just that you do the right thing. The rest doesn’t matter. Cold or warm. Tired or well-rested. Despised or honoured. Dying… Or busy with other assignments.” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

Quam bene vivas refert non quam diu.

Bibliography:

David Johnston, Former Governor-General of Canada. Excerpt from Trust: 20 Ideas To Build A Better Country, chapter 2: To Thine Ownself Be True.