Correcting

Yesterday I attended a class/meeting/workshop called Fostering Honor in the Workplace. This workshop was sponsored by the Honor Code Office and Student Employment here at BYU. I know, I already know what you're thinking: "was that meeting just about how leggings aren't real pants?" Surprisingly, leggings weren't mentioned at all. The point of the whole thing was to talk about helping our students live up to the commitments and promises they've made. The commitments they chose to make by attending BYU. Now, I love the honor code about as much as anyone (not at all), but I cannot stand to hear students complain about how BYU doesn't have the right to insist they follow the guidelines they agreed to follow when they signed the Honor Code. (Speaking of honor codes, did you know the honor code at Notre Dame is 300 pages? BYU's is what....3? So all those whiners who don't want to shave or wear real pants can just shut up!) I can understand why anyone wouldn't want to have to be governed by the Honor Code, I really can; and I don't think it says anything about you as a person if you don't want to. But then...you shouldn't come to BYU. Phewf, all our problems are solved!

Oh yeah, getting back to my original subject, there were a lot of ideas mentioned for how to help students understand the meaning of honor, and obviously, the subject of correction came up. The following quote was shared by Elder Bednar and I feel like it might have changed my life...

“A principle that is hard to hear but resonates as true: when we fail to give needed correction or counsel, it’s because we are thinking of ourselves. We normally think, ‘Well, you know, I don’t want to hurt this person’s feelings.’ No, that’s not really true; you just want to be liked. And the reason I’m not going to tell you what really needs to be said is because I don’t want to be viewed negatively or fall into disfavor. It is far more loving to appropriately provide correction and counsel than it is to duck the issue.”

Obviously, correction is a part of life. But I no longer believe it means failure. It means love. It means growth. And that's a lot easier for me to swallow.