Over 30 years ago, I had a conversation with a colleague about a book she was reading. The book was a series of stories about people who stood up and acted with courage to change or protest a situation in their community, organization, or country. My friend took away a significant idea from the book. While none of these individuals considered themselves courageous, others looked at their actions and defined them as courageous.
When interviewed for this book, the people said they were afraid or didn’t think their actions would matter. But then they followed that statement up with variations of a powerful sentence. When confronted with the situation or injustice, they said, “I could not not act.”
For people deemed courageous, the compulsion to show up and do something overcame their fear. They weren’t choosing their actions from a courageous framework. Instead, they acted despite their fears or sense of inadequacy because the situation they found themselves in went against their fundamental beliefs and values, and they “had to” act.
The Roots of Courage
Do we find courage, or is courage a byproduct of a strong need to do something?
Our culture often thinks that courage is a core characteristic of a person. You either have it or don’t. The research in the book I mentioned suggests that it is something we have in abundance and that circumstances cause individuals to act courageously. It also suggests that when we know our core values and the principles that shape our lives, we use that clarity to choose to act.
This is a moment in history when we can test our willingness to act courageously.
Many disruptions are happening in the United States and around the world. These disruptions can create opportunities to reflect on what we will—and won’t—act on.
Do you know your line in the sand? And when that line of value or principle is crossed, do you feel you have no choice but to act? We face that when traditional norms are disrupted and other values and principles are substituted.
Recently, I thought about my ancestors and the stories of their courageous acts. I had aunts and uncles who ended up in East Germany after World War II. Though they were in their 40s, they chose to leave their houses and possessions behind and walk across the border—with nothing but what they could carry. Each parent held the hand of one of their children, and they went to West Germany to restart their lives.
I wonder what I would do in that situation. Would I have the courage to act on the belief that that risk was better than staying where I was?
I suspect we all have family stories of courageous people who have gone before us. Perhaps others look at us and think we have acted courageously, too.
We live in a period when we will be called upon to act, even if we fear the consequences. Now might be a good time to reflect on your “line in the sand” and what you are willing to do if it is crossed.
