Let’s have an honest conversation about leadership. Not the kind you see on a motivational poster. Not the kind that comes with a fancy title and a corner office. I want to talk about the real thing. The hard thing. The kind that gets you soaked to the bone.
There’s a simple test for a true leader. When the storm hits and the mission is done, the boss runs for the nearest dry door.
The manager, they will head inside and get their chow and sit down, waiting for everyone else to come in and join them when done.
The leader, they stand outside in the driving rain, and they wait. They wait until every single person they are responsible for is safely inside. They are the last one in. Always. That’s the job.
It’s not about grand gestures. It’s about the small, consistent acts of profound care. It’s about keeping a little black book, not for secrets, but for souls. For knowing your people. Knowing their spouse’s name, their kids’ birthdays, the date they are due for a promotion. It’s about taking a genuine interest in the human being behind the uniform, behind the job title.
The hard truth is, you can’t change people. You can’t force them to be better. But you can create an environment, a culture of such profound and undeniable integrity, that it incites the goodness that is already in them. You can show them a better way to be, and some, the ones who are ready, will reciprocate. They will carry that forward. That is how the real work gets done.
But let’s be honest about the reality of it. There are many out there who are willing to do this work. But they are like everyone else; they will do it until they see they are the only ones working. It is a lonely and often thankless mission. My words, this entire philosophy, will only land on the brain stems of a few. But that is how things start. A single, steady light in the darkness.
During my Basic Training, I was not very strong, mentally. I missed home, wanted to give up. Wanted to go home where it would have been much worse for me. A Drill Sergeant doing his two weeks, his right arm bearing the combat patch from Vietnam of All American AA 82nd Airborne; he drove me around and showed me all of the toys the military would allow me to operate when I graduated. He saw in me the desire to do what I wanted to do, and the fear that came with independence at 17 years of age.
He stood outside while we went in for chow, holding the door open until the last of his troops went in, no matter the weather. I try to emulate that man everyday when I am able to remember. He may not remember me, but I remember him. His name has escaped me and I don’t have access to my graduation book, but his teachings, his actions, they are there, and I choose to be the change I want to see.
This isn’t a call for a grand, sweeping revolution. I am not asking anyone to do anything drastic. I am asking for something much harder.
I am asking you to take a moment. In every interaction, in every flash of frustration, to just take a single, tactical, soul cooling breath. To dissect the moment when the stress kicks in and to ask yourself a few simple questions: “What am I really feeling right now? What am I so frustrated about? What can I do to set the example for everyone else to change perspectives and be a better version of myself?”
The mission, the intent, is to be compassionate, even, and especially, when others do not seem to deserve it. This is the true meaning of “turning the other cheek.” It is not an act of weakness or surrender. It is a profound and powerful act of leadership. It is a quiet, unshakable reminder to the other person that they are part of a larger system, that their actions have consequences, and that you are holding them, and yourself, to a higher and more honorable standard.
Remember, you don’t really know what they have going on in their life, either. They are not NPCs, they are humans; breathing, thinking, loving humans.
The beginning of change is not in a law or a movement. It begins in the quiet, difficult, and necessary work of a single, integrous human being choosing to be the leader their community needs. It begins with you.