The other night I found myself helping my daughter apply for a summer job. Helping might not be the right word. I was suggesting edits to her answers. Rephrasing sentences. Thinking ahead to what the hiring manager might want to see. At some point she paused and said, “Dad . . . I think I’ve got it.” She was right. She probably did. But I had already stepped in too far. It made me think about something I see often in leadership. Helping is usually well-intentioned. But it can

Recently, a student asked a question in class that tied our leadership topic to their own personal world: "What do endurance athletes and successful leaders have in common?" As the discussion unfolded, one student (also a triathlete) shared how resilience, goal setting, and learning from losses show up in both worlds. She talked about how uncomfortable the training can be, and how that discomfort isn’t something to avoid but rather, something you learn to manage. Listening to

My 11-year-old came home from school with his first assignment of the new year which was to "Create a few goals for the year." And his list was exactly what you’d expect: Finish a LEGO set. Get better at Fortnite. And then one more: “I just want to keep going.” I smiled when I read it. It felt honest. It also very familiar in that I hear some version of that answer from many of the leaders I talk with. At 11, “keep going” means school, friends, and routines that mostly work

“I play dumb really well.” It’s a line I’ve used for years. It is part humbling and part true. But mostly because it reminds me of a mistake I’ve made multiple times in my career when I've heard broad direction like “Let’s be more strategic.” or “We need to show more value.” And I nodded along, convinced I knew exactly what was meant. Only to realize later that I was solving the wrong problem. Often, I wasn’t alone. Other team members walked away with different interpretatio