Find your superpowers

“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

 Maya Angelou

Your mom is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Not just because she made you possible, not just because the top fifty conversations of my life have been with her, but because she gave me my superpower.

My boss once told me my superpower is empathy, and I’m starting to believe him. But it wasn’t always this way.

As a child, I was sensitive. Tears came too easily when someone hurt my feelings, and there was nothing more humiliating than giving instant gratification to the person who hurt me by showing them they succeeded. One day in high school, working as a pharmacy technician at Eckerd Drug, the pharmacist on duty did what he always did—he was a jerk. But this time, he made a spectacle of me. Over the store’s loudspeaker, he called me back to the pharmacy, announcing to everyone that I was too slow. In front of customers, he questioned how I could be so bad at my job. I could feel the tears coming, so I asked for a break, drove home, and screamed in anger alone. I promised myself that day, at 18 years old, I’d never let someone who hurt me see my pain again.

I’ve never cried from anger or humiliation since that day. I shut off those feelings. I shut off that part of me.

In college, I took a Myers-Briggs test, and it labeled me an INTP—heavily skewed toward Thinking, not Feeling. It made sense to me. I was a thinker, someone fascinated by people, almost like a psychologist observing emotions behind glass. As a person who shut off his feelings, I wanted to understand what made people think, but didn’t want to feel with them. But that glass was there not because I feared people but because I had shut off my own feelings and couldn’t resonate with theirs.

And then your mom came along, and my feelings came back with her. First, because I fell so deeply in love with all the best parts of her–feeling in a way I hadn’t at any point in my life. Then, because I fell so deeply in love with all the worst parts of her. And then she helped me learn to love myself in a way I never did. Not that I ever hated myself, but for me, when I shut off the negative feelings, it meant I had to shut off positive feelings too. At the time, it seemed worth it, but it wasn’t.

Even if the intention wasn’t to re-open parts of me, through hundreds of conversations, just regular conversations, we weaved through feelings and emotions. I removed the protective glass and didn’t just allow myself to feel emotions with her; I leaped toward them. To understand them. To understand her. To understand me. To empathize.

For me, having another person understand me, really understand me, is one of those feelings that simultaneously brings joy, self-confidence, and true community. And that feeling is worth sharing, like your mom shared with me.

When I truly understand another person, it’s impossible not to care about them. I’ve learned to see the best and worst in people and lean into their strengths. I pour everything I have into helping people see the best parts of themselves. If I can seek to understand them so well, care for them so much, and feel with them so they know they’re not alone in their feelings…maybe, just maybe, I can help them find their superpower. And if not, at the very least, I hope they feel what your mom helped me feel–joy, self-confidence, and the community of an advocate. If I can accomplish that, it makes all the surrounding work and struggle worth it.

Recently, as I transition out of my job, I’ve been overwhelmed by the feedback from my colleagues. They told me in so many different words that they’re better because I didn’t just listen—I understood them. I always knew how much I cared about them, and while that alone was enough for me, I didn’t ever really know if it was making the impact I hoped it would. But this week, I realized it has, at least for some. And that is way more than enough for me.

Your mom is why I dream of teaching and impacting others. It just takes one person to care for another person to care. If you multiply that over time, it's hard not to hope for a future where more people understand and care for each other.

When you find your superpower, give it back to the world. It will change lives—including your own.

Navigating change

“Nothing changes if nothing changes”

Change is hard. Change is personal. But change is necessary for progress.

In the second year of my career, I was frustrated with my job. I worked at a multicultural agency for one of the world’s largest advertisers, alongside some of the brightest minds in the city, but I felt stuck. I wanted to grow faster than the opportunities allowed, so I started looking elsewhere. I interviewed at another agency in Chicago and, in the process, got feedback that cut deep: “People working in multicultural advertising aren’t as capable as those in the general market.”

I.was.livid.

I went to the top advertising school in the country for media, worked with the biggest clients, had strong reviews, and still, I was being judged for the audience I served, not the work that I did. I disagreed vehemently with their feedback, but it scared me. Despite knowing they were wrong, this was the voice of one of the top agencies in the city. Would this perception stunt my entire career?

I vented to my boss about it, and she asked me a pivotal question: Do you want to prove the doubters wrong by staying and making an impact, or switch and leave the fight behind?

At the time, I wasn’t ready to fight the system, so I switched. I think about this decision often, and it has stayed with me since.

Years later, when I was in a position of influence, there was a crisis at an agency that meant a lot to me, that had people I cared about, and I had a chance to be part of systemic change, I ran toward the fight. This time, the fight was bigger, and I loved it. A fight to create a place free of the toxic realities I’d encountered earlier in my career. A place that valued its people and helped them grow to be fearless. A place that prioritized people over profits. A place that discouraged unhealthy competition. A place of good, kindhearted people.

And then we moved mountains. Boulder by boulder, we laid the foundation for a healthy culture that could last. The progress we made is the proudest achievement of my career.

But as we made real progress, something shifted. The desire for change started to fade. As if the initial change was enough. For me, there was still so much more to do, but without a consensus to keep changing, progress slowed drastically.

That’s when I learned something important: You can’t force change. People change themselves.

You can change an environment or situation, but you can’t change someone’s mind or heart. You can only share your perspective, offer your understanding, and hope they’re open to it. Real, sustainable change happens when someone chooses it for themselves. No one can choose your change, and you can’t choose someone else’s.

And learning that changed me. It took me so long to realize it wasn’t a fight at all. I could put down my sword. I could take off my armor. And I could be happy for them that the world they wanted to create is the one they achieved. There is so much beauty in that. And there was a clear realization that there was still a path for me to continue to walk, so I might as well continue the journey.

So yes, be the change you want to see. But once you get beyond yourself, seek out those who want to create that change, too. Because if there is no openness or desire for the change you want, that change is simply not possible.

If you realize that where you are isn’t ready for, or even wanting, the change you envision, that’s okay. Let them live their vision. The right place for your vision is out there. Keep moving toward it.

Interpreting feedback

"Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life."

Steve Jobs

When I was in third grade, I had a teacher, Ms. Hendershot, who was challenging. She motivated her students through the fear of public humiliation, spoke to me condescendingly, and had a clear idea of what an ideal student should be—one I didn’t fit into. At the time, I couldn’t diagnose all of this. I just knew she didn’t like me, and I didn’t like her either.

My mom loves to tell a story about a parent-teacher meeting she had with Ms. Hendershot. Ms. Hendershot told her that I didn’t pay enough attention in class, but admitted that every time she called on me, I knew the answer. After listing ways I could improve, my mom asked her a simple question: “Has he ever told you a joke?”

Puzzled, Ms. Hendershot said no.

“Well then,” my mom said, “You don’t know my son.”

That night, instead of telling me what Ms. Hendershot said, my mom asked me why I didn’t let her get to know me. I responded, “She doesn’t need to know me. She needs to teach me.”

I’ve always had a bit of rebellion in me. But the real takeaway from this story is that my mom was my advocate. And as my advocate, she knew bad feedback when she heard it.

That’s something I’ve learned to appreciate as I’ve grown older. Throughout my career, I’ve received so much feedback. And what I’ve come to realize is that good feedback comes from people who actually know you—who understand what makes you tick and what drives your success.

Sometimes, feedback resonates with the person giving it more than the person receiving it. It might be what worked for them, or what they wish they’d heard. Or it might be feedback that’s meant to push you into a mold you’ll never fit.

For me, one example was when I was told to become a more charismatic, commanding presenter. But that’s not me. It’s not what I’m good at, and even if I worked hard at it, I’d never excel. It wasn’t until a friend gave me feedback that really clicked: lean into your strengths—present like a storyteller, gathering people around the proverbial campfire.

So I did. And it worked.

Find your advocates and listen to them. Or listen to your best advocate—yourself. But don’t listen to your version of Ms. Hendershot.

As you go through life, people will give you feedback. I hope you listen to it all but only act on what truly resonates with who you are. Don’t try to be a lesser version of someone else. Be the best version of yourself. It will take you further than trying to become someone else’s idea of success.