I was scared, but I had no choice

I was walking past Healy Hall — Georgetown's iconic gothic building — on my way to teach my very first class in the Master of Foreign Affairs program. The usual thoughts were running: Do I belong here? Am I good enough? But also — are these students ready for my action learning methodology, which will push them outside their comfort zone?

I had a plan. Start by telling them my story — why I was there and why I cared.

I still felt nervous, but it was my story to tell. I told them the story of war in Yugoslavia in 90s when I learned my cousins had become refugees and our family house in Bosnia was sacked. It was also a story of finding hope in action and community — joining the resistance movement Otpor at 14, becoming an activist, and being part of the nonviolent revolution that ended the dictatorship. That experience of finding a community, acting together on shared values in the face of danger, forever changed my life and set me on a journey that led to the co-creation of four social movements and four businesses.

As I finished the story, fear was replaced by clarity — I remembered why I was there.

But then I saw their faces. They were completely in. All in. One student, Daniel, emailed me that evening saying he was "ready to go through a brick wall in this class." A bit strong — but he meant he was ready.

My Story of Self mobilized my emotional capacity, and the emotional capacity of the whole class, to go into the unknown together. We had an amazing semester. It’s been 5 years since then.

That is the power of personal storytelling and knowing your why. Let's unpack it 👇

Leadership is about encountering the unknown. And the unknown creates fear. Fear, doubt, isolation, helplessness — these are the emotions that inhibit action. They make us freeze, retreat, and (over)protect ourselves. Every person feels them.

But there's another set of emotions — hope, solidarity, purpose, agency — that inspire action. They make us move forward and face hard things together. The leader's job isn't to eliminate the inhibiting emotions. It's to activate enough inspiring emotions to outweigh them.

And the most powerful tool for doing that isn't a strategy deck. It's a story.

My mentor and friend Marshall Ganz, Harvard professor, spent decades studying why some leaders inspire action and others don't. His conclusion: the difference is narrative. Strategy tells you what to do. Story tells you why it matters. And neuroscience shows that without the why, we literally cannot move — the brain's motivational circuitry requires emotional engagement to initiate action. Data alone doesn't activate it. Meaning does. People don't need more data. They need meaning. And meaning is delivered through story. We are hard-wired to connect data points into a story to make meaning in order to act (or not).

I've spent years working with people who faced enormous unknowns and tackled unimaginable challenges — activists, investigative journalists, dissidents, entrepreneurs. When I ask them why — why did you publish that story knowing it could end your career? Why did you go protest, knowing you might get shot? — they almost all say the same thing: "I didn't have a choice."

The truth is, they did have a choice. But their sense of purpose was so clear that not acting would have felt like betraying their core self. They would tell me they didn't feel brave. They were scared. But they saw no alternative — because their why was stronger than their fear.

That is the power of clarity of purpose. It doesn't make you fearless. It makes inaction unbearable.

Ganz developed a framework called Public Narrative — a leadership practice built on three linked stories: a Story of Self (why I am called to lead), a Story of Us (the values we share), and a Story of Now (the urgent challenge demanding action). Today we focus on the first one.

Your Story of Self isn't your resume. It's the answer to one question: why do you care? And the answer has to be a specific story — a moment, a challenge you faced, a choice you made.

In the last issue, you identified turning points through Past-Future Authoring. Those turning points are the raw material of your Story of Self. The exercise surfaced the what. Now we shape how you tell it.

Every effective Story of Self has three elements:

Challenge. What was the situation that tested you? What made it hard? Why did it feel like it was your challenge to face?

Choice. What did you do — and why? Where did you find the courage? What values drove the decision?

Outcome. What happened — and what did it change in you? What did you learn? What did you start caring about differently?

As the main character, you face a challenge that requires a choice, revealing your values and leading to personal transformation. This experience explains your passion for certain issues, much like my story showed my students why I care about freedom, leadership, and change.

Take one turning point from your Past-Future Authoring exercise — the one most connected to maybe a current challenge you are facing. Shape it using challenge-choice-outcome.

Think of it like a short movie — not a documentary of your whole life, but one or two scenes that open a window into something much larger. My two moments — refugees and Otpor at 14 — give you a window into ten years of war, resistance, and transformation. A good story doesn't tell everything. It shows enough.

Paint with details. Where were you? Who was there? How did you feel? Use real names. Describe the room. Details are what turn information into emotion — they put the listener in the scene with you.

Keep it short. Two to three minutes spoken aloud. It's a doorway, not a memoir.

Keep it honest. The strongest stories are often the ones you're most hesitant to share. Vulnerability isn't weakness — it's what makes someone think: I've felt that too.

Now do it. Write your story this week — under 400 words, don't polish it, just get it down. Then tell it out loud to someone you trust. Notice where their eyes light up. Notice where you feel something as you speak. Those are the moments that matter. Afterward, reflect: what shifted in you? What did the other person hear that you didn't expect?

This is a practice, not a performance. Your story will sharpen every time you tell it. Start this week!

Leadership doesn't begin with a strategy. It doesn't begin with a title. It begins the moment you look someone in the eye and tell them why you care — honestly enough that they feel it.

You have that story. Now tell it.

Until next time, keep evolving ✊