Lessons

For the past four months, I've been immersed in a whirlwind of formal learning—teaching, training, and advising. As these experiences draw to a close, I find myself in a deep state of reflection, not just on educational insights, but on broader, more impactful lessons concerning leadership and innovation. Having dedicated most of my life to the world of education, I typically approach these situations with time-tested methods, making only minor tweaks along the way; big career shifts have felt nearly impossible. Yet, these recent encounters have ignited a profound desire to fundamentally change how I teach, learn, and advise. I want to share the ideas fueling that resonate far beyond the classroom and are challenging me to redefine my own leadership transformation.

Grades matter or do they?

For decades, I stood in front of students, confidently declaring: "Grades don't matter in the long run," "No one will ask what your grades were," and "It's the learning that counts." While these sentiments hold a lot of truth, I missed a crucial point: as an educator, it was my responsibility to be the architect of the learning experience, not just deliver the lecture. I inadvertently framed the pursuit of knowledge as a false choice, either chase the A+ or focus on real-world application. I took what should have been an "and" problem and made it an "or" problem. I prided myself on making learning "real, relevant, and engaging", which was my attempt to elevate application over grades. But both my students and I were stuck seeing a division where a powerful synthesis was possible.

This same limiting mindset plagues our professional worlds. We operate in an "or" environment, where every interaction is reduced to a transaction. Confronting complex problems or simple challenges alike, the default perspective is one of constraints. Organizations yearn for transformation, yet they are hobbled by these transactional barriers. It’s the classroom dilemma all over again: everyone recognizes the promise of transformation, but the transactional walls—the systems, the metrics, the mindsets—are formidable.

My current challenge is translating my strengths as a transformational leader in the high-stakes, long-term work environment into the learning context, figuring out how to engineer experiences that embody this transformative "and" approach. This translation from the intense, sustained engagement of the workplace to the briefer, lower-stakes environment of the classroom is proving to be potent intellectual fuel.

Writing …. On paper!

Stepping back into an undergraduate lecture hall after years of teaching adults felt like returning to a familiar hometown after three decades: it looked the same, but the essence was foreign. The most striking change? The silence of the pen. The classroom, once filled with the scratch of pencils on paper, is now dominated by the click of keys. It's not just a shift in note-taking tools; it's a fundamental change in how information is processed and, critically, how students think. This observation was immediately reinforced outside the classroom. While advising an executive director on cultivating a high-performance team, I watched as the team members, and I instinctively reached for pens and paper during moments of deep engagement. We were furiously scribbling down insights, questions, and points of tension. This wasn't merely recording; this was dissonance in action, the real-time, physical process of grappling with complex ideas. I realize now that I only engage in this "hard copy thinking" when I am truly provoked, challenged, or perplexed. My recent MBA leadership seminar, where my role shifted from lecturer to facilitator, provided the perfect setting to practice this. As students drove the discussion, I was free to take notes, instantly capturing poignant ideas and making rapid connections. The lesson crystallized: How do we get our teams to 'think in hard copy?' In an age of digital fluency and remote work, we risk losing the ability to show our thinking in real time, becoming less expressive and more resistant to dissenting views. The challenge isn't just about brainstorming; it's about leading in a way that actively creates productive dissonance and provides a mechanism (like writing) to capture and process it for collective benefit. Writing on paper is a vital start, but I need more fuel for this intellectual fire.

Follow the steps

If you know me, you know I reject the phrase "just follow the instructions." I adhere to the intent or the desired outcome but if there’s a playbook, I prefer to shred it and improvise. This habit is amplified when I view myself as the "expert" (a title I generously award myself, evidence be damned). This ego-driven approach slammed into a wall during my recent training to become a team coach/facilitator for an MBA program. The coaching model is a proven, battle-tested success, complete with extensive resources and scripts. I had an experienced coach, a familiar partner, and a clear path, the only obstacle was me. I was my own barrier to success. In my first dry run, my desire to "improvise, lead, and engage" erupted as raw anxiety: I spoke at hyperspeed, practically forgetting to breathe for five minutes. I had prepared, following the script while adding personal nuances, but the attempt was chaotic because my focus was entirely inward, on ‘my’ need to perform. The breakthrough came with a painful realization: to truly develop and succeed, I needed to bench my ego and follow the prescribed steps. For successful leaders, our processes are intertwined with our personality; challenging those ingrained habits to embrace someone else's proven path inevitably triggers resistance. My internal shift from fighting the script to finding the congruence within it and building from there was the key. The deeper leadership lesson is this: true engagement starts by seeking to uncover ‘their’ approach to success, not imposing mine. This perspective instantly transmuted my resistance into genuine engagement, changing the entire dynamic and fueling my learning.

A plug

On the topic of challenging ingrained habits, I want to share a book that's currently fueling my thinking: Invisible Rules: How to outsmart the entrepreneurial game by Ujwal Arkalgud. Having known Ujwal and his former business partner, Jason Partridge, for years and being consistently inspired by their work on motivation, I knew this would resonate. While framed for entrepreneurs, its wisdom applies broadly to business and, crucially, to leadership. The core premise, captured in this foundational quote, is what makes it so powerful: “What holds us back is the set of invisible rules we’ve unconsciously absorbed that dictate who can succeed, how success happens, and which paths are considered legitimate.” I am eager to finish reading and reflect on the material to actively learn how to outsmart these invisible rules as they may apply to leadership.