The first rule of navigation is not to know where we’re going but to know where we are. For leaders, that often translates into learning who we are. That learning depends on honest self-reflection. For me the hardest part was acknowledging my whole self — my full story — without judging it.

We’re biased by expectations and often missee ourselves. We compare, deflate or inflate, and define who we are by what we lack. If we can set those expectations aside for ourselves, we’re more likely to do the same for others — for students if we’re educators, for employees if we lead teams. This requires a courageous, nonjudgmental look at the self, not framed strictly in terms of strengths and weaknesses.

The perils of childhood

When I was in primary school I discovered I was shy. I also stuttered. Those experiences shaped how I perceived myself for many years.

Shyness is different from introversion. Shyness is tied to a fear of judgment, while introversion reflects a preference for less stimulating social settings. On personality assessments I generally register as introverted: friendly but not naturally social in large groups. That distinction helps explain a lot about my approach to teaching and leadership.

My stutter felt like a much bigger problem. I learned tricks to avoid speaking in front of the class and underwent therapies that involved repeating words into a recorder for long stretches. For years I thought these traits held me back. I framed them as deficits. Yet today I make a living speaking with groups and working directly with people — an outcome that seems to contradict those early judgments.

What changed?

I stopped thinking of my differences as deficits. Over time I noticed the unexpected advantages my stutter produced: by the time I was in seventh grade I had built a broad vocabulary because I learned to switch words quickly when a chosen word got stuck. That agility with language mattered. The stutter also pushed me toward singing, an activity where stuttering disappears. Voice lessons and performing taught me to use my voice effectively, and that skill has continued to serve me in public speaking and leadership.

Likewise, shyness became a strength. It taught me to listen closely, to value quiet reflection, and to pay attention to subtle cues in others. Acting like an extravert can feel like an “out-of-body” experience at times, but I can stretch into that role when needed and then return to the reflective space that recharges me. Paying attention is both enjoyable and powerful: it helps me connect deeply in work and then step back without losing that connection.

So what next?

The biggest payoff from reframing differences is the way it changes how we see others. Differences become resources rather than problems. As educators, we can release rigid expectations about how students must demonstrate understanding. Each learner approaches the world in their own way, and no two methods of learning are identical. When we stop labeling people by deficits, we open room for diverse approaches to flourish.

As workplace leaders, we can accept — even treasure — other people’s perspectives, preferences, and insights as different rather than wrong. Creating a neutral, accepting environment gives people a stronger starting place for growth. When individuals feel seen for who they are, they’re better prepared to become who they might become.

Practically speaking, this shift starts with small daily practices: pause before judging behavior, ask open questions to understand another person’s approach, and experiment with multiple ways of expressing ideas and assessing learning. Encourage reflection in team settings, celebrate a variety of problem-solving styles, and make room for quieter voices by intentionally creating spaces where they can contribute without the pressure to perform like an extravert.

If you’re curious to explore these ideas further, consider listening to the back2different podcast, where people around the world discuss how to move forward during times of change. I’ve found conversations like these helpful for expanding how I view leadership and learning.

Stay tuned for two forthcoming pieces from me titled L’appel du Vide and Magnetic Otherness. They will dig deeper into these themes with a sharp, passionate perspective.

About the Author

Mac Bogert is President of AZA Learning and a regular columnist for the Learning Counsel. He began his career as an English teacher and has spent the past 25 years focused on where leadership and learning intersect. In addition to his work in education and leadership development, he has worked as a musician, actor, yacht charter captain, staff development consultant, curriculum designer, and is the author of Learning Chaos.

This article was originally published by The Learning Counsel, a research institute and news media hub focused on the shift in education toward digital curriculum.