"Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy." — Dale Carnegie
Have you ever been able to help someone shift their mindset, thus helping them to change their behavior?
In 2023, I took over the lead of a large company Think Tank, a group of individuals who weren’t afraid to challenge the status quo. The group was around 800 employees with similar traits in common: we were innovators who were willing to experiment and be disruptors, with the understanding that to enable change, we had to help shift the mindsets and behaviors of those around us. We helped to implement multiple corporate initiatives by not only initiating and being part of change but influencing others to join us on our quest to change our way of working. The mindset shift was purposeful for us, but I don’t think we always got to see it play out in real-time with others.
The mindset shift language and strategy became so engrained in me that I didn’t realize I was doing it in my other role: motherhood. This soccer season has been a mental struggle for my high school sophomore. When he made the team his freshman year, he was thrilled. It didn’t matter to him how much playing time he got, if he scored a goal, or what position he played. He was just happy to be one of the few to make it through the cuts. He was confident, content, and didn’t want the season to end.
This year has been different. He is a silent leader. He’s not the kid hamming it up on the bus, being loud and boisterous, cracking jokes at another’s expense. He is the one who let the smallest freshman take the smallest jersey instead of taking it for himself. He is inclusive without knowing it - he invited the new players into his circle with a smile and a gentle nod without judgement. He is humble and kind but shows up consistently every single game. He is nearly always in the right position at the right time and while quiet on the bus or large social settings, he is LOUD on that field - instructing others when to turn, who is open, when to abort the pass to the goalie. I hear him from the stands.
But his confidence has been missing this season. With each mistake he makes on that field, I watch him hang his head and sulk, afraid that he will be seen as an imposter and not good enough. His passion for the sport he once loved is starting to fizzle out. Of course, as a parent, I desperately want to step in and save him, but I know there is a lesson to be learned somewhere in all of this.
Unfortunately, like I’ve seen play out many times in the corporate world, these traits aren’t always valued leadership skills. Like being passed up for that promotion or that lead role at work because you aren’t seen as the loudest voice in the room, he took it hard when he wasn’t made captain. In his 15-year-old mind, he doesn’t understand what he is doing wrong or what he needs to do differently to be seen as the leader he knows he is.
In the first few weeks of games, each time I would drive him to catch the bus for a game, my pep talk would go like this: “Now, I want to see you be aggressive out there on the field. The coaches keep telling you you’re too small. You need to show them that you are willing to retaliate. If a player takes you down, you take them down with you. Win every single head ball you can. Play through the ball and the person if you have to - I repeat, BE AGGRESSIVE!”. Finally, after multiple pep talks like this, my son turned to me and said, “That is not who I am - you are asking me to be someone I am not. I am me. I don’t want to be the destroyer out there. I want to be me.”, and he had a very fair point. A lightbulb went off in my head. Two of my core values are integrity and authenticity, and unknowingly, I had instilled these two core values in him. He wanted to be seen and rewarded for being his authentic self. He wanted to act with integrity, and who was I to argue with that.
During the 6-minute drive from our home to the school this Monday, I gave him a pre-game pep talk but this time, my words were different. The conversation went something like this: “I feel certain you are going to score a goal this game. You are one of the strongest, most strategic players out there, but you need to trust your instincts because they are right. In the game on Saturday, I watched one of your teammates call you off your player three times, which then left your man open. If you would have trusted your instincts all three times, you would have been where you needed to be to make the better play. You don’t have to be perfect on that field. Not every pass needs to be perfectly executed, not every goal needs to be beautiful. Each time you force the other team to make a bad pass is just as good as stealing the ball. It’s ok to take risks out there because you have the necessary skills to recover. You are the fastest kid out there so use your speed to your advantage.” He turned and looked at me and smiled but didn’t utter a word. I wondered to myself if he was just tuning me out and appeasing me with his smile. I wished him good luck and told him I loved him.
And you know what happened? That kid had the best game of the entire season, possibly his high school career thus far. His team was down 0-3, 22 minutes into the first half, and he scored! His goal set off a bomb of energy with two more goals hitting the back of the net within several minutes. His team played with tenacity and grit, rather than downtrodden hearts, and the game ended in a tie.
On our ride home from the game, with the sun long ago setting and a calming darkness filling the car, I turned to him and jokingly said, “I bet it was my pep talk that helped you score your goal and caused you to have an incredible game.” and with a slight quiver in his voice, he answered with, “It was, mama. Your pep talk made the difference. You had confidence in me, which helped to finally restore my confidence. Your words mattered.”
It wasn’t until the following day that I took time to reflect on the moment. By encouraging my son to be his authentic self and to believe in his skills and ability, he was able to make a shift in his mindset. Instead of ridiculing himself with each unperfect pass and giving up after the play, he went back for the ball with the tenacity I knew he had in him but that had temporarily disappeared. He took shots on goal that weren’t perfect but one finally bounced over the goalie and into the net. I gave him the freedom to fail, the chance to take a risk, because I told him I believed in him.
I think about the feedback I’ve received over the past two decades from my managers and while nearly all of it was positive and I was told I was doing the right things, the one piece of feedback I received time and time again was that while I very competent, I lacked confidence, which was standing in my way of upward progression. In the last 7 years of my career, I had the privilege to work for two individuals back-to-back that believed in me. They saw the potential in me and understood the mission to unlock my hidden potential. Rather than to say I lacked confidence, they craftily built that confidence by assigning me stretch projects but by quietly building guardrails that gave me the freedom to fail but learn quickly. They knew that my core values were integrity and authenticity and were mature enough in their leadership journeys to know that I would face an internal struggle if asked to change these traits about myself. They understood that to get the best from me, they simply needed to directly point out my strengths and use subtle queues to help me build my confidence. They recognized that if they helped to shift my mindset, my behaviors would also change. During the time that I served under their amazing leadership, I flourished.
How many times have I worked with someone who lacked confidence but had the skills? Have you encountered similar situations? Did you try to change them, or did you help them to shift their mindset? After seeing the scenario play out in real life this week with my son, I wonder how many times I tried to change someone rather than building on their strengths and helping them to shift their mindset. The incredible moment that my son and I shared in the car this week will certainly stick with me in my journey to discover my new identity. The return of his confidence has helped to bring the return of mine.
