Breaking Through the Sidewalk: What a Weed Taught Me About Leadership

I took a photo the other day.  Just a small thing, some flowering plants growing through a cracked sidewalk.  But it stopped me in my tracks.

There was something defiant about it.

Something gritty. Quiet. Alive.

     No invitation. No ideal conditions.

       Just growth anyway.

And in that moment, I was reminded of a season in my life when walking into the office felt like stepping into quicksand. Every morning was a mental fight in the ring with Mike Tyson.  I’d park my car, stare at the front door, and sit there, knuckles white and tight on the steering wheel, wishing I could just disappear.

I didn’t want to lead. Didn’t want to show up. Didn’t want to paste on the steady face again and try to keep everything from collapsing…but I did.

Because my team was in there; because sometimes you lead not from energy, but from commitment. Not from clarity, but from purpose.

That weed breaking through the sidewalk?

That was me back then and that’s a lot of leaders right now.

That photo also took me back to a moment years ago in Harlem, at Sylvia’s Restaurant.

I had the honor of hearing Ms. Sylvia Woods herself speak. She stood with the elegance of a woman who had earned every wrinkle, every story, every moment of triumph. She spoke with a kindness that made everyone feel like family, with such a gentle commanding presence of a 4-star general. 

She told us how she had no choice but to succeed. Her mother had put their family farm up for collateral so Sylvia could buy the restaurant. Failure wouldn’t just mean her dream was over - it meant her mother’s sacrifice was in vain.

That kind of pressure could crush a person.  But Sylvia, it forged her.

She showed up when it wasn’t easy, when it wasn’t fair (and let’s be honest for a person of color in the 60’s most times weren’t fair,) and when everything inside probably told her to walk away.

It reminded me of my own story.  My first $25,000 for my Outback Steakhouse partnership didn’t come from a bank - It came from my mother.

Every dollar tied to her belief in me.  And let me tell you, there’s no paycheck, no promotion, no applause that compares to the weight of someone else’s hope.

That kind of faith demands something deeper than motivation.

It demands resilience.

Leadership isn’t just about inspiration posters or TEDTalks. It’s about making payroll when you’re not sure how.  It’s about calming a storm when your own ship feels like it’s sinking. It’s about pushing through the cracks, even when no one sees it. Or worse, when they do... and still question your strength.

Sometimes, we don’t lead because we’re ready. We lead because we have to.

Because people are counting on us. Because someone once believed in us too much for us to quit.

So today, if you’re walking into a place you’d rather avoid…

If you're carrying pressure no one else can see…

If it feels like the concrete has covered every soft place in your world…

Remember this:

You are the weed breaking through.

You are the reason something grows where it shouldn’t.

You are the resilience your team needs.

You Matter and the People you lead Matter.

Keep growing. Even through concrete.

Chris

Natalie’s Notes:

That weed growing through the sidewalk? That’s not just a metaphor, it’s a mirror. This post is for the leader who's shown up with trembling hands and a brave face. The one who’s quietly pushing through what others will never see.

The power of invisible resilience.

“Sometimes you lead not from energy, but from commitment.” That’s it. That’s the quiet kind of strength that no one celebrates, but every team depends on. If you’re still showing up, you’re still leading.

We honor the shoulders we stand on.

Sylvia Woods. Chris’s mother. The people who loaned us belief when we couldn’t afford it ourselves. This post is a thank-you to every person whose faith became our fuel. When you lead with borrowed courage, you don’t take the easy way out. (Why not send a text of gratitude to someone who has believed in you this week?)

Not a call to hustle, a call to endure.

This isn’t “rise and grind” fluff. This is leadership when you're tired, cracked, stretched thin… and still rooted. This is about the kind of growth that doesn’t wait for permission.

For the leader who’s barely holding it together:

You don’t have to bloom in perfect conditions. You just have to keep growing.

#TheDamagedLeader #PeopleMatter #Resilience #Leadership #ChrisEldridgeWrites