Honesty, Integrity, Sincerity
Exploring characteristics of a virtuous person
By Ron Ciancutti
One of the privileges I had when working as a director for the park district was that the executive offices were actually within the zoo grounds (part of the park district’s authority). You can imagine what a nice lunch alternative it was from drive-thru fast food to enjoy a hot dog and a root beer while walking through the cheetah exhibit or gorilla display.
Photo: © Can Stock Photo / Kobackpacko
To my delight, my lunch time was also break time for some of the zookeepers, and we would often sit together watching the animals while the keepers explained certain behaviors and habits of the menagerie. I learned many things, and one day I observed that some of the animals seemed bored as they lay on their backs, paws to the sky, basking in the sun. One of the keepers explained that such a posture was the animals being completely relaxed rather than bored. He explained that, in the wild, no animal is typically comfortable enough to lie in such a vulnerable, unguarded position. The keeper said it takes years for an animal to feel comfortable enough and safe from possible attack before relaxing enough to trust the peace of his “private” enclosure.
Integrity Floats To The Top
Now, in the beginning of my second year of retirement, I see some similarities in the challenge of breaking habitual behaviors and feeling safe in the “new normal,” as there is a lot to get used to after decades of routine.
The first feeling I encountered was guilt. Shouldn’t I be up early, shouldn’t I be checking the commodities markets (I was a buyer), how could I have slept in past 7 a.m.? I can honestly report it took more than six months to curtail those habits, and I still find myself with some of those behaviors (constantly dialing “9” to get an outside line). But with time, I learned to go easier on myself and actually developed replacement rituals to help me “unlearn” in some instances. I replaced the morning drive with a morning walk and oh, what a difference in my approach to the day. I also used to crave a cat nap around 2 p.m. My lunch was digesting, I was feeling fatigued, and I wanted so badly to close my eyes for 20 minutes, but I just didn’t think that seemed right to do “on the job” so I never did. Now, it’s something I try to never miss, and friends, it is so nice and rejuvenating. A little perk I gift myself. Why not? I’m sure I can explain it to myself in my annual review. You see, like the animal relaxing on its back, I can finally allow myself this comfort zone. This new behavior tends to reveal the true character of the man I was intended to be.
No Applause Needed
I recently attended my grandson’s wrestling tournament (ages 12 to 14) and was enjoying watching him challenge himself physically and mentally. If you have ever wrestled, you know that a big piece of handling yourself on the mat has to do with dealing with the anxiety you experience between matches. Maintaining composure while you know there’s a fight in your future is, I think, a great character builder, a great way to learn how to handle stress. So, after my grandson won his first match, he had to wait an hour or more for his next opponent. As we waited, I watched some of the other matches. I saw one wrestler being led to the mat on the arm of his opponent. The boy being led was completely blind. The gym was full of screams and whistles, so the referee had to shout directions very loudly as only one of the wrestlers could see his gestures and facial cues. Once the match began, it was clear that the boy with full vision could easily have escaped his opponent and won on points. Instead, he wrestled gently with the challenged boy, maintaining contact that allowed for moves to be made on him. For two full rounds, the one boy let the blind wrestler earn a point and then took it back; he allowed an escape and then escaped the next lock; on and on it went. In the end, the boy with full sight allowed himself to be pinned, and the other boy was filled with absolute joy. The referee raised his arm and the losing wrestler shook the winner’s hand firmly. My eyes swelled with emotion as the “winner” was surrounded by his parents’ hugs. I later saw them approach the defeated wrestler and to thank him. He smiled, waved them off, and humbly waited for his next match. I sought out his parents and told them they should be very proud of the young man they raised. Folks, I downright guarantee that this young man will lead an admirable life and someday make an excellent father and life partner. He already knows what’s important. He doesn’t need affirmation from a trophy or applause. He respects his fellow man at the age of 13! That’s true character. That’s the act of a man.
Be Genuine
Have you ever attended a birthday or graduation party and got a call from someone who was supposed to be there but couldn’t make it? Before signing off, the person tells you to be sure to give the honoree “a big hug from me” or a “special kiss from me” or “tell him I am so proud.” When I am given such a message, I never deliver it. If you were invited and didn’t attend, YOU get in touch, YOU reach out, and YOU tell the person how proud you are! That “send my love” baloney doesn’t fly with me. I think that’s another character identifier. For me, being disingenuous is habit-forming. If I have a friend, I owe that person respect. When my son left for college, my wife and I had a little send-off party. While most of his high school friends were there, one was conspicuously absent because he had to work. At 6 a.m. the next morning, we began to load the car to head off to college; the absent friend was found asleep in a lawn chair behind my car. He came straight from the night shift but didn’t want my son to leave without saying goodbye, so he blocked the car with his sleeping body. He gave a card and a special book he had signed. They shook hands and embraced, and he climbed on his bike and headed home. That’s a friend. Can that even compare to the one who sends the message, “give him a big hug from me”? Really?
Brimming With Love
One of my closest friends came from Italy to the United States when he was 16 years old. Alonzo was one of nine children and worked very hard in his youth. His parents sent him to live with his father’s brother to have a better chance at a successful life than in Naples. He did well, had a solid career, married, and had three daughters. He often tells stories of his family back home and the one that particularly intrigues me is of his younger brother, who was born with autism. The health programs in this country far exceed those available in Italy, especially 50 years ago. The boy was simply sent home to be raised in a house filled with love and brothers and sisters who cared for and engaged him. They taught him many things, but his favorite was to brew coffee and espresso, and in Italy, coffee is drunk all day (and night). Alonzo takes great pride in his brewing, and the family knows it is his job and his job only. “Alonzo! Espresso!” they say, and off he goes to the kitchen. When he is not brewing coffee, Alonzo fills notebooks with the number zero. Various shapes and sizes of the number fill the pages front and back, and he is serious about his work. He smiles often, enjoys good Italian meals, goes fishing with his father, and returns home to write more zeros. Alonzo is perfectly happy, and his family loves him and embraces his somewhat odd way of life. But in his environment, he is safe, he is comfortable, and he is true to himself. He’d like nothing more than to make you a cup of coffee. His integrity will ensure it’s the best cup you ever had.
Ron Ciancutti worked in the parks and recreation industry since he was 16 years old, covering everything from maintenance, operations, engineering, surveying, park management, design, planning, recreation, and finance. He is now retired. He holds a B.S. in Business from Bowling Green State University and an M.B.A. from Baldwin Wallace University. He is not on Facebook, but he can be reached at ron@northstarpubs.com.