Two years ago, I was in Atlanta running a series of workshops at a client’s annual kickoff. Day one was all about feedback and communication.
The next morning, I was standing in the conference room, arming myself with coffee, when one of the team members came up to me. He had that unmistakable look—the kind that says, something shifted.
“What we talked about yesterday completely changed how I spoke with my daughter last night,” he said.
He told me about his five-year-old, who had gotten in trouble at school. Normally, he admitted, he would have gone straight into “parenting mode”—the lecture, the correction, the lesson. But this time, he paused.
Instead of talking at her, he asked what had happened. And then—softly—if she was ready to talk about it.
Her answer: “Not yet.”
Two words. But they rearranged everything.
He didn’t let his daughter off the hook. Instead, they made an agreement to talk about it when he got home from his trip the following evening. That gave her agency, and it gave him space to be thoughtful about how he wanted to approach the conversation.
He was grateful for new tools and the shift in perspective that allowed him to show up as a better father. He knew that when they did talk about what happened it would be more productive and she would be more engaged.
I’m not sharing this to give parenting advice. I’m sharing it because it’s the heartbeat of why the word elevater matters to me.
I’m not sharing this to give parenting advice. I’m sharing it because it’s the heartbeat of why the word elevater matters to me.
We use the word elevater deliberately. It’s not just another way of saying “leader.”
An elevater is someone who steps into any space—work, home, community—with the intention and skills to grow both themselves and the people around them. It isn’t confined to a title or workplace. Yes, it makes you a sharper leader on a team. And yes, companies don’t invest just for warm feelings—there’s measurable business impact.
But that’s not the whole story.
The tools elevaters practice spill beyond the walls of a conference room. They show up at the dinner table, in the carpool lane, on late-night phone calls with friends. They ripple through marriages, families, friendships—and yes, through teams.
That’s the work. That’s the why.
We aren’t running a leadership training program. We’re doing human development at work. Because when people grow, everything around them does, too.