Show them...don't just tell

Last week, I had the rare privilege of having my 28-year-old son in the audience while I delivered a keynote on leadership. This wasn’t just another speaking engagement for me. It was a chance for him to see me - not just as a father, but as the professional I’ve become over the years.

When he was younger, we shielded him from much of the difficult backstory behind my work in food safety (that all took place before his birth.) 

He knew the basics of WHAT I do:

 •   I teach.

 •   I advocate.

 •   I write books.

But he had never really seen HOW I do what I do. Through his childhood years and his college years, he hadn’t witnessed me in action.

Uncharacteristically, the audience last week was not made up of food safety professionals. It was a room of leaders from various industries, most unrelated to food at all. I spoke about leadership, using blockbuster films and real-world events to show how leaders act before, during, and after crises.

Things went well. The audience applauded. It all felt good. 

Then…something unexpected erupted.

After I sat down, with only the closing minutes of the event remaining, two of the event’s host leaders got into an unfiltered, public argument. Their anger boiled over, and the room watched a textbook example of poor leadership unfold—right after my keynote … on leadership!

On the drive home, my son and I unpacked it all. He quickly pointed out how the two leaders had accidentally demonstrated one of the very pitfalls I had spoken about. What struck me most wasn’t the confrontation itself, but how clearly my son connected the dots.

The moment wasn’t planned. It wasn’t part of my presentation. It wasn’t a talking point.

It was real.

It was human.

And it was leadership - good and bad - on display.

I went into the day hoping my son would understand me better.

I ended the day understanding him better.

He comprehended my main points, then asked deeper questions:

 •   How do all the roles I play (consultant, advisor, columnist, podcast host, professor) shape me as a keynote speaker?

 •   How do these roles prepare me to engage, not just inform?

 •   How does storytelling connect to leadership?

He didn’t just see me work. He processed it, applied it, and challenged me with insightful questions.

This day reminded me that the most powerful lessons in leadership, parenthood, and life don’t come from lectures. They come from witnessing how people handle real situations, especially the messy, imperfect ones.

As leaders, as parents, as humans—we are always teaching. Whether we know it or not.

If you take away one thing from this story, let it be this:

DON’T JUST TELL people who you are, what you value, or how to lead…

SHOW THEM.

Remember, someone is always watching, learning, and - if we’re lucky - asking the right questions on the drive home.