Student:
I was laid off from the bank last week. After everything I gave to them. It feels wrong.
Teacher:
Laid off, you say. Were you expecting it?
Student:
Not really. Our team hit targets. I thought I was safe.
Teacher:
And what do you mean by "wrong"? Do you mean unfair?
Student:
Yes. Unfair. I worked hard, stayed late, played by their rules. Then—gone. No warning.
Teacher:
Tell me, what is the purpose of a bank?
Student:
To manage money. To provide financial services. Credit, loans, investments.
Teacher:
Does a bank exist to reward loyalty?
Student (hesitates):
Not directly, I suppose. It’s about profit. Shareholders.
Teacher:
So if a bank’s goal is profit, and you were laid off to preserve that goal, is that inconsistent with its purpose?
Student:
From their perspective, no. But it still feels wrong.
Teacher:
Ah. Then perhaps the feeling of wrongness comes not from their values—but from yours?
Student:
Maybe. I believed in the work. In helping people. In responsibility. But I guess they don’t see it that way.
Teacher:
Did your belief guide your actions while working?
Student:
Yes. I advised clients with honesty. I thought that mattered.
Teacher:
Then your values were real. But if an institution does not honor those same values, is it a surprise it does not honor those who embody them?
Student:
So… you're saying I was misplacing my trust?
Teacher:
I ask only: should one expect virtue from a system not built upon virtue?
Student:
That’s a hard truth.
Teacher:
Hard truths, like hard currencies, are often more valuable. Tell me—do you regret acting with integrity?
Student:
No. That part I’m proud of.
Teacher:
Then you have not lost your wealth—only your wages.
Student (pauses):
That’s a comforting way to put it.
Teacher:
Not comfort—clarity. There are banks that store money, and there are banks of character. Which one do you want to invest in next?