Maintaining personal integrity will often land you in hot water.

Integrity is subjective. My definition probably differs slightly or greatly from how you define it. Integrity shines through your attitude and actions; not by virtue of telling others, "I have integrity. I have more integrity than most people you meet."

Is the life you live congruent to your words? It's tough. Maintaining one's integrity often means choosing a difficult path. When I think of integrity, the Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, "The Emperor's New Clothes," comes to mind. I frequently describe myself as the child who tells the emperor that he is, in fact, naked while courtiers and sycophants marvel at his "magnificent attire."

For me, personal integrity means taking a stand. It means telling others what they probably don't want to hear when it's a matter of values, work ethic, systems equity, personal relationships, and social justice. It means sticking to your guns at the risk of being unpopular. It's far more important to me that I be able to face myself in the mirror each day than be liked by all (which is an unrealistic goal anyway).

"Can't we all just get along" usually involves accepting mediocrity, others' unacceptable behaviors, and silencing yourself. The first public stand I made was during my Level One M.Sc. internship program. I wasn't just punished, I was savaged for it. The department chair wanted me to leave the program, even though I wasn't the person who created the incident. I appealed to the Ombudsman and stayed on, but with the chair setting out Draconian hoops through which I had to jump.

I considered transferring to another program, but realized if I did so, it would convey the message that what they were doing was alright. I stuck it out, completed two internships in the same amount of time other students complete one by doubling my hours, maintained a full course load, and was accepted into a great doctoral program.

When I finally mustered the nerve to tell some of my classmates what had happened, they were outraged. I was overwhelmed by the support I received and felt justified in my resolve.

Last summer, I discovered my old M.Sc. program no longer exists (I needed transcripts for something) and my old nemesis/department chair is out of a job. Go figure.
I learned three valuable lessons. First, the price of personal integrity is high; the absence of it cheap and, therefore, meaningless. Second, the greater opposition you receive from others, means the stakes are at their highest. Third, if you strategically reach out to others, they will support you.