We think the ability to rattle off people you are grateful to

The words of Charles Best, founder of DonorsChoose, contain a truth that reaches beyond charity into the heart of wisdom itself: “We think the ability to rattle off people you are grateful to and thankful to is often sort of a proxy for openness to learning from others.” In this reflection, gratitude is revealed not merely as courtesy, but as evidence of humility, of receptivity, of the mind’s willingness to grow through the strength and wisdom of others. To be able to name those we owe thanks to is to admit that we did not walk alone, and in that admission lies the foundation of lifelong learning.

To rattle off names of gratitude is to possess the memory of guidance. Each name is a marker of someone who has shaped us, corrected us, or opened doors we could not open alone. Those who carry such names upon their lips carry the acknowledgment that greatness is never solitary. By contrast, those who cannot recall who helped them reveal a dangerous blindness: they have either forgotten the hands that lifted them, or they never allowed themselves to be lifted at all. Best’s words remind us that the measure of a person’s openness is not found in their achievements alone, but in their remembrance of who made those achievements possible.

History confirms this wisdom. Consider Alexander the Great, who, though he conquered the known world, never ceased to honor Aristotle, the teacher who shaped his mind. Or Maya Angelou, who spoke often of those who nurtured her voice when she was silent, lifting her into the poet she became. Each of these figures bore gratitude as a crown, acknowledging others as co-authors of their destiny. This is the openness to learning that Best describes: the recognition that wisdom flows into us from many sources, and we are richest when we receive it humbly.

The phrase “a proxy for openness” reveals the heart of his teaching. Gratitude is more than politeness—it is evidence of character. Those who give thanks easily are often those who listen easily, who accept correction without pride, who embrace new knowledge rather than resist it. To be thankful is to be teachable, to admit that the journey of wisdom is never complete. Gratitude becomes both the mirror of humility and the doorway to growth.

There is also heroism in remembering. In a world that exalts self-made legends, to pause and name those who helped us is to resist the myth of isolation. It is to proclaim that interdependence is not weakness but strength, that the wisest among us are those who weave their lives together with others. The ability to rattle off names of gratitude is in truth the ability to show the map of our learning, marked with teachers, friends, mentors, and even adversaries who sharpened us.

The lesson here is eternal: cultivate the practice of gratitude not as ornament, but as discipline. Take time to recall those who shaped you, and let their memory keep you open to new teachers. Be thankful not only in thought, but in word, speaking your gratitude aloud so that others know their influence mattered. For as Best teaches, gratitude is not the end of learning, but its beginning—the soil in which openness takes root and flourishes.

Therefore, let us act. Keep a list of those to whom you owe thanks—family, teachers, colleagues, even strangers whose words or deeds shaped you. Speak their names, honor their impact, and let the act of remembering keep your heart open to learning from the next person who crosses your path. For the wisdom of Charles Best reminds us that gratitude is more than remembrance—it is the mark of a soul that is forever open, forever teachable, forever growing.