What Volunteering Taught Me About Real Leadership

I’ll never forget one of the families I met during my eight years of volunteering. A mom and her three little girls were living out of their car. She was holding it together the best she could, but you could see the exhaustion—working jobs that barely covered gas and food, always one bad day away from disaster. When she came into the program, she got a roof over her head, but what mattered even more was the support, encouragement, and tools for long-term independence.

I watched her go back to school, land a better job, and with some extra help from resources we connected her to, move into low-cost housing. It didn’t happen quickly, but it happened. Years later she’s thriving, her girls are thriving, and she’s proud of the stability she created for them. She did the work. I just got to walk beside her for part of the journey. That’s what stuck with me—leadership isn’t about swooping in to save people. It’s about showing up, believing in them, and giving them the space to believe in themselves.

Those years also taught me something I carry into leadership every day: the difference between mentoring and coaching. I used to think they were basically the same thing—like “iced coffee” and “cold brew.” Turns out, no. Mentoring is about sharing experience and perspective: “I’ve been there, let me walk with you.” Coaching is more about asking questions, listening deeply, and giving someone the space to find their own answers: “You’ve got this—let’s figure it out together.” The magic is in knowing which hat to wear and when.

And here’s the confession part: listening is not always my strong suit. I’ve got a lot to say (my teams will happily confirm this). But learning about the different levels of listening changed how I show up. There’s that first level where you’re really just listening to yourself—thinking about your own story or your next brilliant point. Then there’s focused listening, where you push your own thoughts aside and pay attention to the other person. And finally, there’s global listening, where you’re tuned into everything—the words, the pauses, the tone, the body language, even what’s not being said. That last one is hard for me, but when I manage it, it feels like unlocking a hidden leadership skill. Sometimes the kindest thing you can do for someone is not advice, not solutions—just giving them your full attention. Even if, for someone like me, that means biting your tongue and holding back the “well, here’s what I’d do…” speech.

What’s funny is how much this translates to teams at work. People don’t want to be carried—they want to be believed in. They don’t want a boss with all the answers—they want a leader who trusts them to find their own. That mom with her three girls didn’t need me to magically fix her finances. She needed to know she was capable of fixing them herself, and maybe a nudge toward resources she hadn’t found yet. Teams are the same way. If I do all the problem-solving, maybe we scrape through the sprint, but nobody grows. If I step back, listen, and let them own the outcome, the confidence and resilience they build stays with them far longer than any quick solution I could’ve given.

And here’s the part that still surprises me: leadership has nothing to do with titles. I saw parents who had lost nearly everything lead their kids with courage and humor. I saw families lead one another through kindness and grit. The best leaders aren’t the ones with authority—they’re the ones with empathy. Titles might give you power, but empathy gives you influence.

So when I think back to that mom and her daughters, and all the families I had the privilege of walking alongside, the biggest lesson they left me with is this: leadership isn’t about being the smartest person in the room or the loudest voice in the meeting. It isn’t about swooping in with answers or proving you know the way. It’s about listening, believing in people, and helping them believe in themselves. It’s about kindness. And sometimes—much to my own surprise—it’s about knowing when to stop talking.

Because in the end, the best leaders aren’t the ones with all the answers. They’re the ones who leave you believing you had the answers all along.