When I was in fifth grade, my fourth-grade teacher came looking for me. She needed to attend a meeting in the school office and wanted someone to watch her classroom while she was gone. So, naturally, she put an 11-year-old in charge of a classroom full of 10-year-olds. I’m not sure that decision would pass today’s school policies!

Potential

But here’s what I’ve come to appreciate about that moment: She saw something in me that I hadn’t yet recognized in myself. She saw leadership potential. At 11 years old, I certainly didn’t have a leadership philosophy. I didn’t know anything about developing people, building teams, or influencing outcomes. But she trusted me with responsibility. And in doing so, she planted a seed. I doubt she ever imagined that decades later I would still remember that moment—or that I would spend much of my professional life developing leaders. But that’s the thing about legacy. Sometimes we plant seeds without ever knowing what will grow.

When we hear the word legacy, we tend to think about something left behind. Perhaps it’s a successful business, a distinguished career, a family tradition, or a name on a building. We often associate legacy with extraordinary accomplishments or a lifetime of achievement. But I’ve been thinking about legacy a little differently. What if our greatest legacy isn’t what we leave behind, but what we leave within others?

Think for a moment about a woman who has made a difference in your life. Perhaps she was a teacher who recognized something in you before you recognized it in yourself. Maybe she was a supervisor who trusted you with a responsibility you weren’t entirely convinced you could handle. Or perhaps she was a friend who spoke courage into your life when fear was doing most of the talking. Chances are, you remember her influence more than her accomplishments. You remember how she made you feel. What she helped you believe about yourself. The possibilities she helped you see. That’s legacy leadership.

Leadership That Outlives the Leader

Years later, I worked for a man who had a remarkable way of developing leaders. He had a habit of asking me questions I was convinced I couldn’t answer, like what was your strategy? How did you get that kind of return on your investment? What caused that endeavor to be so successful? In those early years, my response was often the same. “I don’t know.” And his response was just as predictable. “Yes, you do.” Then he would stop talking.

He didn’t rush to explain the answer. He didn’t rescue me from the uncomfortable silence. He simply gave me space to think. He was right. I did know. I just hadn’t learned to recognize and articulate what I knew. Over time, those conversations changed the way I thought about myself as a leader. I began to recognize that my decisions weren’t simply instincts or lucky outcomes. There was thought, strategy, and judgment behind them. He didn’t give me confidence by telling me how capable I was. He helped me discover my own capabilities.

Decades later, I find myself doing much the same thing with the leaders I coach. I ask questions. I give them space to think. And I resist the temptation to provide answers they are perfectly capable of discovering themselves. That’s his legacy living on through my leadership.

The Whole Story

We often measure leadership by what someone accomplishes while they’re in charge: business grow; team success; goals achieved. Those are worthwhile measures. But I wonder if they tell the whole story.

Perhaps a more revealing question is: What continues to grow after the leader is no longer there? Did she develop people who became confident enough to lead without her? Did she create an environment where others felt safe enough to contribute their ideas? Did she challenge an outdated belief or expectation that was limiting the women around her? Did she open a door and then make certain it stayed open for someone else?

The most meaningful leadership isn’t always measured by what we accomplish ourselves. Sometimes it’s measured by what becomes possible for others because of our influence. That kind of leadership isn’t reserved for CEOs, elected officials, or women with impressive titles. It belongs to all of us.

The Women Who Left Something Within Us

November invites us to pause and practice gratitude. One of the most meaningful ways to do that is to recognize the women whose influence we carry. I suspect each of us could name someone who changed the trajectory of our lives, perhaps without ever realizing it. Someone who saw our potential; challenged us to think differently; gave us permission to question an expectation we’d accepted for years; believed we had something valuable to contribute. Their influence became part of our story.

But here’s something worth considering: Not every woman who shaped us did so by showing us what we wanted to become. Sometimes we learn from women who didn’t have the opportunities, confidence, support, or freedom to fully use their voices. Their experiences can become part of our motivation to create something different for the next generation.

Legacy isn’t always about repeating what we inherited. Sometimes it’s about having the courage to change it. And perhaps gratitude means honoring what we’ve received while recognizing our responsibility to do something meaningful with it.

The Legacy We’re Creating Today

We don’t have to wait until the end of our careers or lives to think about legacy. We’re creating it in ordinary moments. When we choose to mentor rather than compete. When we celebrate another woman’s success without diminishing our own. When we speak up for someone whose voice isn’t being heard. When we share what we’ve learned instead of guarding it. When we encourage someone to take a step she’s afraid to take. Even when we acknowledge our own mistakes and demonstrate what it looks like to grow.

None of these moments may seem particularly extraordinary. But neither did many of the moments that shaped us. That’s the beautiful thing about legacy leadership. We may never know the full reach of our influence. A conversation we barely remember may become the encouragement someone carries for years. A door we open may lead to opportunities we never imagined. A woman we encourage today may someday become the person who encourages countless others.

What Will Grow Because You Were Here?

As we celebrate gratitude this November, I invite you to consider two questions.

  • Who helped you become the woman you are today?

And perhaps more importantly:

  • Who is becoming more of who she was designed to be because you’re part of her life?

I don’t know whether my fourth-grade teacher ever realized what she gave me that day. I wonder if my former boss knows how often I still hear his voice saying, “Yes, you do.” Neither could have known how their influence would continue to shape my life. I’m grateful they saw something worth developing.

Perhaps that’s what gratitude and legacy are really about. Recognizing what others have invested in us—and being intentional about what we invest in others. Somewhere in your life is a woman who needs someone to recognize her potential. Someone who needs to be trusted with an opportunity. Someone who needs a little space to discover that she already has more wisdom than she realizes. Maybe you’re the person who can give her that gift. Because the legacy we leave isn’t simply what we’ve accomplished, it’s what continues to grow in others because we were here.

Connect with Michele on LinkedIn or read more of her articles on Plaid.