Episode 29: When Someone Gives You Every Reason to React: Leadership Lessons from an Unlikely Place
Hello, hello, and welcome to the podcast.
So, I was scrolling through my LinkedIn feed when I came across a video that really moved me.
The video was about a routine traffic stop, and usually I don’t watch these types of videos because I never know what I’m going to see. But because this video was on LinkedIn, I assumed there was probably more to the video than you’d originally think, and I was right. Not only was it a special video to watch, but it was one of the clearest real-world examples of People-Forward Leadership™ that I've come across. All in a two-minute video.
When I talk about the three pillars of Leader Awareness, Empowered Ecosystems, and Adaptive Continuous Learning, they can sometimes feel disjointed or singular. It can be hard to see how they work in tandem, how they're iterative, and how they build on each other. But when I say they're intertwined and interconnected, this video was a great demonstration of what I mean.
While I talk about them separately, because each one matters, the three pillars are parts of a whole.
And this video beautifully demonstrated how it works, and it didn't happen in a boardroom but on the side of a road in North Carolina. But we’ve experienced this leadership moment to some degree. In conference rooms. In one-on-ones. In those moments when someone comes at you sideways, and you have to decide who you're going to be in that moment.
So, let me set this up for you.
A deputy named Shawn Singleton pulls over a woman named Katelyn, who was going 61 in a 45.
Now, traffic stops are already tense because of the power dynamic. There's uncertainty. Most people are at least a little nervous when they see those lights in the rearview mirror.
But Katelyn wasn’t nervous. She was hostile.
From the moment Deputy Singleton approached her window, she met him with an attitude. He asks why she's speeding. She pushes back, tells him she wasn't. He asks about the attitude. She says, "I'm not allowed to have bad days?”
And then she says something that would make most people defensive: "I come from a background where I don't do cops. I can't stand cops."
Now. Pause there.
Imagine you're this deputy. You just walked up to do your job—maybe even planning to give this person a warning—and before you can even have a conversation, they've told you they can't stand you. Not because of anything you've done. Because of what you represent. Because of experiences they've had that have nothing to do with you.
What would you do?
Most of us—if we're being honest—would get defensive. We'd match the energy. We'd think, "Fine, you want attitude? I’ll give you attitude and a ticket.” We'd prove a point. Protect our ego. Show them they can't talk to us like that.
That's the human response. That's what most people do.
That's not what he did.
Deputy Singleton stayed calm. He didn’t match her energy. He didn’t get defensive. He didn’t even lecture her about respect or attitude, other than to ask what’s with the attitude, and even then, he said, " I’m just curious about why you have an attitude. Still operating in a non-confrontational manner.
He runs her license. And despite everything, despite the hostility, despite being told she can't stand him, he just gives her a warning. No ticket. No fine. No court date.
He tells her, "I understand you're having a bad day. I'm not trying to make it any worse."
And then he does something unexpected. Instead of sending her on her way, he pauses. And he asks a simple question:
"Are you good?”
Three simple words. And it changed everything.
Because she wasn't good. And something about the way he asked—something about the space he created—allowed her to tell the truth.
She opened up and told him she comes from a hard background. She's been clean and sober for four months, and she's always had bad experiences with cops.
And he doesn't interrupt. He doesn't say, "Well, I'm not like that." He just listens.
Then he asks another question: "Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need help with anything?”
"Do you want a hug?”
She says yes, then got out of the car, and they hugged.
And as they're standing there on the side of the road, hugging, she tells him: "I've never hugged a cop before. I've only ever been put in handcuffs by them.”
She tells him she moved to North Carolina to escape an abusive relationship. She left her five-year-old son back in Maryland so she could get clean and try to get him back. And she admits that she was on her way to do something that wasn't in her best interest.
This traffic stop may have saved her life.
By the end of the interaction, Katelyn isn't hostile anymore. She's praying for him. She's calling him "Sir." She's thanking him for his kindness.
She went from "I don't do cops" to "I pray Jesus blesses you.”
In ten minutes.
Six months later? She's ten months sober. She's reunited with her son. And she brought that little boy to meet Deputy Singleton. She introduced him with these words:
"This is one of the guys that helped save my life.”
That's the video. I've linked it in the show notes, and I want you to watch it after this episode.
You'll see everything I'm describing. The calm. The questions. The shift. It's all there.
But now I want to talk about what this means for you.
Here's the first thing I want you to notice: Deputy Singleton didn't take it personally.
Someone told him to his face that they can't stand cops—can't stand HIM, essentially—and he didn't flinch. He didn't defend himself. He didn't make it about him.
Because he understood something crucial: that her hostility wasn't about him. It was about her. Her past. Her pain. Her story.
This is one of the hardest things a leader can do. When someone comes at you—whether it's an employee with attitude, a colleague who's being difficult, a direct report who's resistant—your instinct is to take it personally. To get defensive. To think, "Why are you treating ME like this?"
But most of the time? It's not about you. It's about what they're carrying. What they've experienced. What they're afraid of.
Think about where this shows up in your world.
Maybe you're walking into a union negotiation, and they've already decided you're the enemy before you sit down. They're not responding to you—they're responding to every leader who came before you, every broken promise, every time they felt unheard.
Maybe you're a new executive, and you've inherited a team that was burned by your predecessor. They're guarded. Skeptical. Testing you. And it feels personal—but it's not. It's protection.
Maybe you're leading through a restructure or a merger, and people are angry. They're scared. And you're the face of the change they didn't ask for. They're not mad at you. They're mad at what you represent.
Or maybe it's simpler than that. Maybe it's a team member who snaps at you in a meeting. And your first thought is "What did I do wrong?" when really they're going through a divorce, or dealing with a health scare, or drowning in something they haven't told you about.
When you can separate their emotions from your identity—when you can see what they're feeling without becoming it—you stay grounded. You become the calm in the chaos instead of adding to it.
This is what I mean when I talk about Leader Awareness. Not just knowing yourself, but having enough mastery over your own emotions and narrative that you don't get emotionally hijacked by someone else’s.
So ask yourself: When someone comes at you sideways, can you pause long enough to ask “What's this really about?" instead of reacting?
Because that pause could change everything.
The second thing I want you to notice is that He asked questions. He didn't tell her anything.
He didn't say, "You need to fix your attitude." He didn't say, "You should be more respectful." He didn't give advice or lecture, or explain why her worldview was wrong.
He asked:
"Are you good?”
"Is there anything I can do for you?”
"Do you want a hug?”
And because he asked rather than told, she accessed something deeper than surface-level hostility. She got to the real truth—the sobriety, the abuse, the fear, the fight she was in for her life.
He didn't extract that from her. He created space for it to emerge.
Think about how this plays out in your leadership.
You've got an employee who keeps missing deadlines. Your instinct is to tell them to get it together, maybe put them on a performance plan. But what if you asked first? "Help me understand what's getting in the way." "What would make this easier?" You might find out they're overwhelmed because they're afraid to say no. Or they don't have the resources they need. Or there's a bottleneck somewhere else that has nothing to do with their work ethic.
Or you're in a strategy meeting, and someone pushes back on your idea. Hard. Your instinct is to defend it, explain why you're right, or try to convince them. But what if you got curious instead? "Tell me more about your concern." "What are you seeing that I might be missing?" You might learn something. Or they might talk themselves into agreement because you gave them space to process.
Or think about a direct report who keeps coming to you with problems. Your instinct—especially when you're busy, especially when you've solved this before—is to just give them the answer. But what if you asked: "What do you think is really going on here?" "What have you already considered?" "If you had to decide right now, what would you do?" You'd be surprised at what people can solve when you stop solving things for them.
Think about how different Deputy Singleton's interaction would have gone if he'd tried to fix her. If he'd said, "Look, I'm not like other cops. You shouldn't judge me based on your past experiences." Even if that's true, it would have shut her down. She would have gotten defensive. The wall would have stayed up. AND he would have reinforced her beliefs.
But he didn't try to convince her of anything. He just got curious. He asked questions and actually listened to the answers.
This is what Empowered Ecosystems is about. You're not the hero with all the answers. You're the guide who creates conditions for people to find their own.
So here’ another question I want you to ask yourself: How often are you telling versus asking? And when you ask—are you really listening? Or are you just waiting for your turn to talk?
The best leaders I know ask more than they tell. They listen more than they speak. And they trust that people have wisdom inside them that just needs space to come out.
The third thing he did—and this is the big one- is that he made it safe for her to change.
Katelyn walked into that interaction with a fixed belief. "I don't do cops." That belief was built over years, maybe decades, of negative experiences. It was her protection mechanism. Her armor.
And in ten minutes, it cracked open.
She went from hostility to vulnerability. From "I can't stand you" to "I pray Jesus blesses you."
From never having hugged a cop to embracing one on the side of the road.
That's not a small shift. That's someone's entire worldview changing in real time.
And it only happened because he didn't punish her for where she started.
He let her be hostile without retaliating. He let her be wrong about him without correcting her. He let her challenge everything she thought she knew—and instead of penalizing her for it, he held space for her to see something different.
Now think about your organization.
You've got that employee who's been around for fifteen years and is resistant to every new initiative. They roll their eyes in meetings. They say things like "We tried that before, and it didn't work." Your instinct might be to write them off. Go around them. Or push harder until they comply.
But what if their resistance isn't stubbornness? What if it's protection? Maybe they've seen leaders come and go with big ideas that never stuck. Maybe they've been burned by change efforts that made their life harder. Maybe they've learned that the safest thing to do is resist—because at least then they're not disappointed.
What if, instead of pushing, you created safety? What if you said, "I know you've seen a lot of change here. I'd love to hear what's worked and what hasn't. What should I know before we move forward?”
You're not agreeing with their resistance. You're making it safe for them to drop it.
Or think about a high performer who made a visible mistake. Maybe they botched a presentation to the board. Or lost a client. Or made a call that cost the organization money. How you respond in that moment determines everything.
If you come down hard—if you make an example of them—everyone is watching. And they learn: it's not safe to take risks here. It's not safe to fail. Better to play it safe and stay invisible.
But if you hold them accountable AND hold space for them to learn from it? If you say, "Let's talk about what happened and what we can do differently," That's when people grow. That's when they take ownership instead of hiding.
That's what creates transformation. Not convincing people they're wrong. Not arguing with them into they adapt a new perspective. But being so consistent, so steady, so safe that they can let their guard down and see for themselves.
This is Adaptive Continuous Learning in action—not just learning new skills, but creating the safety for people to evolve their beliefs, challenge their assumptions, and grow.
Listen, when you create safe spaces for your people, it may feel messy and uncomfortable at first. Someone might push back. They might be hostile. They might give you every reason to write them off.
But that's where transformation usually happens. Not in comfort, but in safety.
So here's my final question for you: Is it safe to be wrong on your team? Is it safe to fail? Is it safe to change your mind? Is it safe to show up imperfect and still be valued?
If you're not sure, ask. And be ready to hear the truth.
So, let me bring this home.
What Deputy Singleton did on that roadside wasn't luck. It wasn't just "being nice." It was leadership. Real, human, people-forward leadership™.
He didn't take it personally when someone attacked him.
He asked questions instead of giving lectures.
He created a safe space for someone to change, even when she gave him every reason not to.
And here's what I want you to really sit with: You have these moments, too. Maybe not on the side of a highway. But in your conference rooms. In your one-on-ones. In the hallway, conversations and Slack messages, and team meetings.
Moments where someone gives you attitude, and you get to choose how to respond.
Moments where someone is struggling, and you get to choose whether to fix or to listen.
Moments where someone is stuck in a story about who you are or who they are—and you get to choose whether to fight that story or create space for a new one.
People-Forward Leadership™ is about consistently showing up for your people when they give you every reason not to.
And let me be honest—you won't be perfect at this. There will be days when you match someone's energy instead of staying grounded. Days when you tell instead of ask. Days when you react instead of respond.
There has to be grace in this. For your people and for yourself.
But this is what it means to be a people-forward leader™. And it's not for everyone. Because most of the work isn't on your people.
It's on you.
It's you doing the inner work to stay calm when someone pushes your buttons.
It's you learning to get curious instead of defensive.
It's you holding space for someone else's growth even when it's uncomfortable.
That's the work. And it never ends.
But when you commit to it—when you show up like Deputy Singleton did—you don't just change an interaction.
You might just change someone's life.
Go watch the video. It's in the show notes. You'll see everything I talked about.
And then ask yourself: How am I showing up for my people—especially when they give me every reason not to?
Thanks for being here. And remember, keep leading people forward!
I’ll see you next time.
