GI – Integrity: Doing What Is Right, Even When It’s Hard

In the Code of Bushido, the virtue of GI, translated as integrity or justice, stands as the unshakable pillar of a samurai’s character. As I wrote in Let the Samurai Be Your Guide, Gi demands that we “do the right thing, even when no one is watching.” It is the invisible thread that ties our values to our actions.

To the samurai, Gi was not a matter of convenience or conditional morality. It was a way of life. They were taught from an early age to distinguish right from wrong and to uphold justice, even when it was uncomfortable or dangerous. There was no room for compromise when honor was at stake.

The world may look different now, but the need for Gi has never been greater. We face injustice, dishonesty, and moral compromise daily, in our work, communities, and even within ourselves. And yet, when I look to the lives of remarkable individuals in Japanese American history, I find hope. People who upheld justice, not for fame, but because it was the right thing to do.

One of those people was Michi Nishiura Weglyn.

In my book, I share how Michi, once a costume designer, became a fierce advocate for Japanese Americans after World War II. 

Raised as a farmer’s daughter in Brentwood, California, Michi  grew up tending to farm animals, treating them like beloved pets. But her peaceful childhood was violently disrupted by World War II. Following the signing of Executive Order 9066, her family, along with my own, was forcibly uprooted and incarcerated in American concentration camps simply because of our Japanese heritage.

The Nishiura family was sent to the Gila River War Relocation Center in Arizona, a desolate place surrounded by barbed wire, watchtowers, and armed guards. For three years, Michi lived in a cramped barrack with harsh desert winds and little privacy. She often awoke covered in sand. And yet, even in these conditions, she remained an outstanding student, eventually earning a scholarship to Mount Holyoke College.

Though her health would suffer greatly in the years to come, Michi never let hardship define her. Instead, she used it as fuel for her life’s calling.

In 1968, decades after her incarceration, Michi watched as U.S. Attorney General publicly denied that America had ever operated concentration camps. She knew this was false. That moment lit a fire within her. She embarked on a seven-year journey of painstaking research to correct the historical record, not for personal glory, but to clear the shame unjustly placed upon her people.

With no financial backing and in frail health, Michi traveled between the National Archives, public libraries, and the Franklin D. Roosevelt Library to uncover the truth. She read documents, took notes by hand, worked from dawn until closing, and persisted without complaint. In 1976, her book,  Years of Infamy: The Untold Story of America’s Concentration Camps, was published. A groundbreaking book that exposed the injustice the Japanese and Japanese Americans faced and helped spark the Redress Movement of the 1980s.

Her husband, Walter Weglyn, a Holocaust survivor, encouraged her throughout this process. Together, they knew the importance of truth, and the cost of silence.

Michi did not follow the crowd; she embodied Gi. She stood firmly in what she knew to be just. She once wrote, “It would involve a 180-degree turn on my part, from designing to detective work, to clear in some possible way my own people.” And she did just that.

The life of Michi Nishiura Weglyn reminds us that Gi is not a distant ideal. It is a living practice, one that calls us to speak up, act with honor, and serve others even when no one is watching.

As I wrote in Let the Samurai Be Your Guide:

“Gi means doing the right thing, even when no one is watching. It means standing firm in your values, even when others don’t.”

So I ask you today: 

What does integrity look like in your life? Where are you being called to stand up, speak out, or seek justice, even if it’s hard?

The world needs people like Michi, quiet warriors who lead by example. Let Gi guide your next step.