Growing up, my father used to tell me a story about his own childhood. When he got in trouble, his father would give him a choice: a speech or a spanking. My father always chose the spanking. It was over in a few minutes. The speech, he said, could go on for hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the time, I thought the story was funny. As I got older, I realized it carried a deeper lesson. In our family, communication wasn\u2019t something you escaped, it was something you endured, absorbed, and eventually learned from.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I consider myself lucky, truly fortunate, to have been raised in a family that valued communication. Talking was encouraged. Listening was expected. As a young boy, I remember sitting at my grandfather\u2019s feet, completely mesmerized by him. He didn\u2019t raise his voice or command attention; he simply spoke, and people listened. I learned early that listening wasn\u2019t passive. It was an act of respect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I spent countless hours talking with my father, about everything and nothing. Our conversations wandered the way rivers do, never in a straight line, but always moving somewhere meaningful. He loved to talk, and so did I. Sometimes too much. I remember him trying, with varying degrees of success, to teach me to \u201cbite my tongue.\u201d It was a lesson I didn\u2019t master quickly. In truth, it took years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a long time, I believed that being heard meant talking. That making a point required filling the silence. I thought engagement meant having the right words at the right time. But life has a way of refining lessons we resist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When my father passed away in 2002, the conversations stopped, but the listening began. For the first time, I understood what had been happening all those years. The stories, the long talks, even the speeches, they weren\u2019t about control or correction. They were about connection. They were about making sure someone felt seen, understood, and guided.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Listening, I learned, isn\u2019t about waiting for your turn to speak. It\u2019s about being present. It\u2019s about absorbing what\u2019s being said, and sometimes what isn\u2019t. It requires patience, humility, and restraint. It means resisting the urge to respond immediately and instead choosing to understand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That distinction matters far beyond family. It matters in communities.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Too often, people feel talked at instead of listened to. They feel rushed, dismissed, or lost in systems that move faster than they can keep up with. I\u2019ve seen how easily voices get drowned out, not because they\u2019re unimportant, but because no one slowed down long enough to hear them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The ability to listen, to truly listen, is one of the most impactful tools a leader can have. It builds trust. It uncovers solutions that don\u2019t appear on paper. It reminds people that their experiences matter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The lesson my father tried to teach me, to bite my tongue, was never about silence. It was about space. Space for others to speak. Space for understanding. Space for growth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As I think about serving my community, that lesson sits at the center of who I am and how I want to lead. Progress doesn\u2019t come from the loudest voice in the room. It comes from the most attentive one. From leaders willing to listen before they speak, and to understand before they decide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Talking has its place. But listening is where trust begins, and where real change takes root.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Next time, I’ll share about the expectations of hard work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Growing up, my father used to tell me a story about his own childhood. When he got in trouble, his father would give him a choice: a speech or a spanking. My father always chose the spanking. It was over in a few minutes. The speech, he said, could go on for hours. At the…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-84","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n