The year was 1993. I was seven years old, wandering the halls of my elementary school in the early evening while my mother, a fourth-grade teacher, was immersed in step aerobics with coworkers in all shades of spandex and Reebok sneakers inside the school gymnasium. My mission? A student store heist.
I peered through the gymnasium windows. My mother and her colleagues were preoccupied with early-’90s hype music and high-stepping—they would never know. The hallway was clear, classrooms empty, and the principal had gone home. The sliding doors to the student store were…open.
Flush with Lisa Frank folders patterned with unicorns and stars, colorful erasers, and pens that would make my classmates jealous, the temptation was strong. I filled my backpack.
The next day, I gleefully displayed my newfound cache on my desk. My popularity in first grade took a nice leap. The dopamine-fueled dose of notoriety made a second day of step aerobics and an empty hallway hard to resist. This time, I made a critical error in the bandit’s playbook: I told my mother.
“Look at what Mrs. Madsen gave me, Mommy!”
“She gave it to you?”
“Yes!”
“That’s interesting…” (insert alarm bell that my child is a thief). “Why don’t we go say thank you to Mrs. Madsen for all these nice things tomorrow?”
A referral, a letter of apology to Mrs. Madsen, and a week of lost recess were among my first introductions to accountability.
A healthy dose of rebellion and skepticism of authority runs in my blood. So too does a lot of traditional success. Generations of nonconformity and counterculture have existed alongside outward achievement. Reconciling the paradox of resistance and walking the straight and narrow has been an ongoing journey. I have come to realize that some trouble is good and that sometimes, rebellion is necessary for both accountability and compassion to be upheld.
Ultimately, accountability is an art and seemingly more often, a lost art. It has become mainstream to beat around the bush, hide, exaggerate, and covet denial for what it allows us to avoid.
Discomfort Is Inevitable
Partly reinforced by my own industry, mainstream culture often presents a narrative that we are entitled to comfort. We have pathologized discomfort that has long been part of the human experience. We can become hypervigilant to distress. We go down AI-facilitated rabbit holes or dive deep into escapism rarely reaching a place of resolution. We outsource our wellness to apps and wearables that while have merit, can create unnecessary rigidity. We seek reassurance & belonging through social media and frequently externalize our well-being through metrics and the opinions of others. Our sense of grounding, agency, and discernment can weaken. When our welfare seems to always live outside of us, accountability becomes harder to come by.
Humility
Accountability almost always requires a loading dose of humility. If ego and pride are in the driver’s seat, accountability can feel like a threat to our self-worth. But driven by humility, accountability becomes a vehicle for growth and deeper connection.
Humility also helps us acknowledge the limits of isolationism, recognize the value of community, and understand the importance of asking for help.
Cultivating Perspective
Perspective is a function of experience and forms the basis of our reality. Accountability asks us to accept the limits of our understanding and that it is only through curiosity and often, challenging our comfort zones that we cultivate a more meaningful perspective.
As we experience different cultures, personalities, and beliefs, we expand the possibilities of our understanding. Perspective is dynamic. Giving ourselves permission to change our minds, become less territorial, and challenge narratives of division can lessen defensiveness, soothe the nervous system, and help us remain accountable to the ripple effects of our actions.
Integrity
Integrity and accountability have always been codependent. Accountability is the verb that allows the character trait of integrity to be lived out. It represents the actions—big and small—that turn our core values from aspirational notions into daily practice.
When we act outside our values, as we all do from time to time, we are best reminded that integrity is our North Star and accountability is our compass.
And Finally, Grace
Systems and policies are thirsty for reform, but our responses are ultimately our own. Are we entirely responsible? Probably not in the complexity of it all. And yet, we remain adaptable and capable of growth, often paired best with the support of others.
I have long thought that justice is an amalgamation of accountability and grace. Grace allows us to hold the tension that we are all generally doing the best we can—and that our best can, and often should, evolve.
And in this space of grace where we can acknowledge hardship and forgive with more ease, accountability feels less threatening and reminds us to try, try, and try again.
Thank you for listening.
With Gratitidue,
Audry Van Houweling, Owner & Founder, She Soars Psychiatry, LLC
Sisters & Silverton, Oregon
She Soars psychiatry, LLC 