One Out Of Five

Last weekend my wife and I went to a three-year-old’s birthday party.You know the scene. Frosting everywhere. Balloons. Kids sprinting full speed with zero awareness of furniture or the adult legs they’re slamming into.

In the middle of all that, I started talking with some new friends and, like these things usually do, the conversation drifted to work. There must have been fifty people in the house, but I had real, honest conversations with four of them.

Here is who I met: a nurse who loves what she does, a detective who is burned out by the weight of his job, a flight attendant who is always on call, a stay-at-home mom who doesn't know what comes after kids, and me, a hospitality leader who just walked away from a company that stopped valuing its people.

Before we got into the details of their careers, I asked each of them one simple question:“Do you like what you do?”

The nurse lit up. Everyone else sounded somewhere between exhausted and broken and gave me the same answer:“I hate my job.”

Joy existed in one out of five. That has been bothering me ever since.

The detective talked about long days, ugly cases, and awful people doing awful things to good people. The work is heavy. His leadership makes it heavier.

His bosses do not check on him as a human, only as a tool the department needs to close more cases.

The part that hit me hardest: he works anywhere from 12 to 16 hour days. By the time he gets home, his kids are already asleep. Most days, the only time he really sees them is on his days off.

He feels like he is failing them.

He is out there trying to protect other people’s families while feeling like he is losing time with his own. That guilt is eating him alive. No one above him is asking a simple, human question: “How is this job really affecting you at home?” It is a thankless career that requires massive sacrifice and pays almost nothing back to his soul. He feels stuck and like he is slowly drowning in quicksand.

The flight attendant talked about living on a leash. Any time, day or night, his phone can ring and that is it. He packs up and goes. Plans, sleep, and time with the people he loves all get blown up. He never really knows what the next week looks like.

The stay-at-home mom told me she lives each day with guilt. Guilt that she doesn’t financially contribute. Guilt that she wants more. Guilt that she should be more grateful to be home with the kids. And guilt for giving up her dreams. It’s the double edge sword only moms can probably understand. She loves her kids, but feels stuck in the house and financially dependent. She craves her own identity, and sways in and out of each day wondering who she is beyond “mom.” Right now, she feels more like support staff in her own life than a main character.

Then there was me. I had just left my company after feeling unappreciated and beat down by leadership that cared more about stockholders than about the people carrying the guest experience on their backs every day.

Same living room. Five adults. One who felt fully alive in her work. Four who felt some mix of stress, guilt, and disappointment.

So what made the nurse different?

The Nurse

She did not start as a nurse. She started as a math teacher. She loved teaching. She loved her students. But seven years in, she realized she had become a slave to the education system.

Her role was not just “teach math.” She was a teacher, a counselor, a confidant, and, for some kids, a stand-in parent. All good things, but the structure around her did not support it. There were too many needs, not enough time, and not enough help. Burnout was not a risk, it was guaranteed. So she stepped back and asked the question most people avoid: What do I want my life to look like if I am going to keep helping people without losing myself?

She had a blessing of strong moral and emotional support; a blessing many people do not have. Colleagues, family, and friends encouraged her to go back to school and use her gifts in a different field. She was given bandwidth and runway to chase what she was meant to do.

She decided to pursue nursing. It made sense. Her mom was a nurse. Her grandmother was a nurse. The path was clear, but not easy. This is someone who pulled a 4.0 in a math degree and suddenly she is getting C’s on nursing exams.

She debated quitting. She wondered if she had blown up her life for nothing.

But she kept going, backed by people who believed in her when she did not fully believe in herself.

Her first clinical assignment was in a nursing home that felt like a horror story. Overworked staff, bad energy, patients either comatose or trying to escape. She knew if she stayed in that environment, it would break her the same way teaching almost did. So she drew a line in the sand and made herself a promise: “If I’m going to be a nurse, I’ve got to find a lane that makes me feel whole.”

Fast forward three years.

She lands in the ER. The pace is fast. Situations change by the hour. There is chaos, adrenaline, and constant unknowns. And she feels at home. She loves it!

In the middle of that chaos, she finds clarity about who she is. She decides that every patient she touches, she will treat like family. She chooses to be light on someone’s darkest day. She leans into small moments of joy.

In her words, “Bringing laughter and joy into someone else’s life, despite their situation, will always be my objective. No one wants to be a patient in the ER, so if I can make their stay even a little more enjoyable, I will. Even on someone’s worst day, I am compelled to be a light in the darkness.”

Same heart. Same desire to help. One system slowly drained her. The other supports her and lets her come alive.

This is the point, people are not broken. The environments we put them in are. And leadership is what shapes those environments. Most people want to do something meaningful. The detective did not sign up because he loves paperwork and trauma. He signed up to protect people and provide for his family. The flight attendant did not sign up just to hand out drinks. He wanted to travel and connect people. The stay-at-home mom did not choose to raise kids so she could feel invisible. She did it because she loves them. The nurse did not leave teaching because she stopped caring. She left because the way the work was set up was soul crushing, and she had the courage and support to choose a different way to help. And I did not pour years into hospitality to chase labor reports. I did it because I love developing leaders and building places where people feel like they belong.

So why are so many good people so miserable? Because the jobs are hard and the leadership is quiet. Not quiet as in introverted. Quiet as in not talking to their people like human beings.

At that party, the common thread was a lack of real communication. The detective does not have a boss asking how the job is impacting his family. The flight attendant gets last-minute calls, not honest conversations about expectations and boundaries. The stay-at-home mom is missing real talks with her partner about roles, money, and what she wants for herself. I got demands and shareholder talk, not direction and appreciation. Meanwhile, the nurse is in an environment where her purpose, support, and daily work line up. That does not happen by accident.

We like to dress leadership up as strategy, intelligence, or being the “visionary.”

But here is the brutal truth: none of that matters if you are not an effective communicator. If you lead even one person, your real job is to make sure they know why their work matters, to make sure they know you see them as people, not just cogs in the wheel, to give them enough predictability that they can build a life, and to provide support, development, and appreciation, not just criticism.

You cannot make every day easy. You cannot erase the hard parts. But you can absolutely change how people experience the hard. Here is how:

1. Make Purpose Simple and Human

Every person on your team should be able to answer two questions: Who do I help? How do I help them? If they cannot, that is on you, not them.

You bring that to life with real stories, not slogans. You remind the detective, “You’re the reason some kids still have a safe home.”

You remind the flight attendant, “You get people to weddings, funerals, reunions, second chances. You make those moments possible.”

You remind the stay at home mom, "Your children are amazing, caring, intelligent human beings. By raising incredible people, you are succeeding at the hardest job of all!"

You remind your own team, “When we get this right, we’re not just hitting targets. We’re giving people a place to escape the real world and celebrate their lives.”

Purpose does not have to be poetic. It just has to be honest and repeated.

2. Build Tiny Check-In Habits

Most leaders only really talk at reviews, when people screw up, or when someone quits. That is too late.

Try this instead: a five-minute genuine check in at the start of a shift. Weekly or bi-weekly one-on-ones that you do not cancel. When you notice someone is off their game, ask, “You seemed off yesterday. You okay?” and then actually listen. Make it a habit to send one specific thank you message every day.

The detective does not need a wellness seminar. He needs a supervisor asking, “These hours are brutal and I know you’ve got kids. How is this really affecting you, and what can we adjust?” Those little conversations are where trust lives.

3. Talk About the Mental Load Out Loud

Some jobs come with trauma, emotional labor, or constant pressure. You cannot treat them like just another role. Say it clearly, “This work is hard. You are allowed to struggle. You do not have to fake being okay.”

Then back it up with action. Normalize counseling and debriefs. Rotate people off the most intense assignments when possible. Step in early when you see burnout, not after the explosion. You do not have to create a stress-free workplace. You will not. You need to create one where stress is not a dirty secret.

4. Reduce Uncertainty Where You Can

Uncertainty drains people.

You may not control everything, but you control more than you think. Staff your team with the right people and train them well so SOPs become second nature. Post schedules early and avoid last-second changes. Set clear rules for call-ins and stick to them. Protect days off as much as you can. When you change something, explain why, not just that it changed. You cannot hand everyone a neat 9–5. But you can show that their life outside of work matters when you make decisions.

When people know what to expect, they can breathe.

5. Treat Your People With Care and Hospitality

In hospitality, we obsess over guest experience, then treat the team like they are lucky to be on the schedule. I have been guilty of this and I have learned to do better.

Here is a simple rule: if you would not treat a guest that way, do not treat your people that way. You would not ignore a guest who asked for help. You would not snap at a guest for a simple mistake. You would not ghost a guest who reached out to you for help and set a time and date for you to meet with them. You would not leave them hanging at the front desk when they are expecting you to do what you say you will do. Which means you have a responsibility to always show up to your team, no matter what.

Every day, ask yourself, “What does hospitality look like for my people today?” Sometimes it is flexibility. Sometimes it is honest feedback. Sometimes it is simply acknowledging someone by saying, “I saw what you did out there. That was outstanding. Thank you.”

Little moments. Big impact.

A Challenge For Damaged Leaders

If you have been hurt by bad leadership, I get it. Same here. The true challenge and opportunity we must accept is we do not have to repeat the pattern. You are 100% accountable for your leadership and those under your care.

This week, pick one person you lead and ask them three questions:

·      When was the last time this job made you proud of yourself?

·      When was the last time this job made you feel small, unseen, or stuck?

·      What is one thing I could change or fight for that would make your life better here?

The listen. Really listen.

Do not defend. Do not explain. Do not fix everything on the spot. Take notes. Thank them. Then pick one thing you can change, and go change it. After you make significant progress, go back and say, “I did this because of what you shared.”

That is how trust starts.

                              *

At that birthday party, one out of five people loved what they do.

I do not expect us to magically turn that into five out of five. Life is more complicated than that. But I fully believe that leadership, rooted in real communication, can move that number. One conversation at a time. One tiny habit at a time. One person who feels a little less broken because someone finally saw them and cared enough to ask.

The nurse chose a way of helping that keeps her whole. Our job, as leaders, is to do the same for our people. We must take the good hearts we have been given and build environments where they can actually stay alive.

We may be damaged leaders, but we do not have to keep damaging people. We can help them feel whole again. That is a kind of work worth loving.