The Origin Story

Today's Read Time: 3.28 minutes

My husband and I recently started watching the NCIS origin story. We have always enjoyed the original series, but seeing a younger Gibbs is something else entirely. In the main show, we meet him thirty years into his career. He is calm, capable and confident. He reads people easily. He carries himself with a presence that never feels forced. It is easy to forget that he wasn't born that way.

The origin story slows everything down. It shows us a young agent who is still being shaped by loss, experience and the teachers who crossed his path. You see the early edges of the leader he eventually becomes. And suddenly the Gibbs we have known for years makes perfect sense.

It made me think about my own beginning. Most people would assume the origin of Monyok Leadership starts when I walked away from my corporate job and built something new. That moment matters, but it is not the beginning. Not even close. If I look back for the earliest spark, the true origin goes all the way to seventh grade at Catlin Elementary School.

I was a pretty average kid. I don't think I was ever on a teacher’s radar in any real way. To put it simply: Not a problem, not a prodigy. You know me now, so it probably doesn't surprise you that I'm what some may consider mouthy. And that's not a new habit. Because of that delicate nature, you may assume I lived in the principal’s office. But, I didn't. I mostly stayed under the radar.

Until the day I didn’t.

At that time, every class required a monthly writing assignment. Math. Science. Music. PE. We wrote essays in every class. One day, one of my teachers handed out the writing prompt. It asked what feedback we would give our teacher to make the classroom more successful.

I took the question seriously. Seventh grade Annie believed she should tell the truth. The classroom was loud and unstructured. Students pushed every boundary. The teacher was kind, but struggled to take charge. I wrote what I saw and offered what I believed would help. Clear expectations. Consequences that matched the behavior. A stronger presence at the front of the room. I believed that teacher deserved the tools to run the class they wanted, so I wrote the truth as I understood it.

I turned it in, packed up my things and moved on.

Twenty-four hours later, I was pulled into the hallway by the principal who let me know that my essay had been read and that it was not well received. The message was delivered with clarity. Do not do that again.

She let me know that my essay was out of line. I remember saying, "They asked..." I believed everything I wrote. I believed that teacher could have created structure and confidence in that room. But I also learned a pretty valuable lesson. I learned that when people ask for feedback, they may not always want it or be ready to receive it. And most importantly, I remember standing there, realizing that even the truth needs care and consideration.

What cracks me up is that the exact thing that got me hauled into the hallway in seventh grade is now the thing leaders pay me to do. Little Annie wrote about accountability, structure and taking charge in a classroom that needed all three, and grown-up Annie does the same with adults who sometimes behave a whole lot like seventh graders. Leaders bring me in to set expectations, bring clarity and steady the room so everyone can finally get back to doing their work.

Different setting. Same lesson.

Leaders want workplaces where people show up with purpose and consistency. They want teams that understand what is expected. They want momentum they can feel and culture they can trust. Those things begin when someone is willing to claim responsibility for the environment and shape it with intention. They grow when expectations are clear. They take root when feedback is delivered with honesty and care.

The NCIS origin story reminded me that every strong leader starts somewhere long before anyone notices. Gibbs became Gibbs because his early experiences taught him how to carry himself with steadiness and focus. The same is true for all of us.

My first lesson happened in a small junior high classroom with a mechanical pencil, a writing prompt and a moment of truth. I did not know it at the time, but I was practicing the work I would eventually build a business around.

That is the real beginning of Monyok Leadership.

PS- As the mother of a seventh grader, I would be mortified if my son ever told a teacher to take control of their classroom. I would also be a little proud that he spotted the potential in the adult and had the courage to nudge them toward it. Not that I would ever tell him that...