Influence Is Earned, Not Announced

I can still see that gray cinderblock building on Magnolia Street, about a block south of Turner?s Furniture Store, where I was working at the time. It wasn?t impressive. Just three doors with three emblems on them: Army, Navy, and Marine Corps.

Nothing dramatic about it, unless you count what it meant to me standing there.

I remember asking myself what the biggest challenge would be. Not what would be the safest choice. Not what made the most sense. Just what would stretch me the most?

Without giving it much thought and probably not showing much wisdom, I walked into the Marine Corps office and told the recruiter I wanted to join. I was still wearing my hair long back then. He looked at me like I?d lost my mind.

Ninety days later, I was on my way to Parris Island.

When I signed that document, something in me shifted. I walked out of that office feeling taller than when I walked in. Proud. Certain. Like I had crossed some invisible line into a better version of myself.

What I didn?t understand at the time was that signing a piece of paper and gaining respect are not the same thing. One takes a few minutes. The other takes much longer.

A Uniform Doesn?t Create Influence

When you get to boot camp, whatever pride you felt signing the paperwork fades pretty quickly. Nobody there is impressed by the decision you made ninety days earlier. They?re watching what you do now.

They?re watching whether you carry your weight when you?re exhausted. Whether you help the guy next to you instead of looking for a way out. Whether you start explaining when something goes wrong or simply fix it.

The uniform doesn?t hand you respect. It hands you responsibility. And responsibility has a way of exposing you.

If you cut corners, it shows. If you look for someone else to blame, it shows. If you steady yourself and keep moving when it would be easier to quit, that shows too.

You learn fast that influence isn?t something you claim in that environment. It?s something other people quietly decide you?ve earned.

My Father?s Voice

Long before I ever set foot on the yellow footprints at Parris Island, my father had already been showing me the same lesson, just in a way that was far less polished and far more direct.

His version of leadership advice was simple: ?Get your shit together.?

That wasn?t motivational. It wasn?t wrapped in theory. It was his means of reminding me that life is not easy, life is not fair, and you don?t get what you want, you get what you deserve. If something in your world wasn?t working, the first place to look was not at everyone else. It was in the mirror.

He never talked about influence. I doubt he would have used the word. What he modeled instead were standards. If you were going to do something, you did it right. If you made a mistake, you owned it. If you gave your word, you kept it.

Titles didn?t impress him much. Showing up did. Doing the work did. Taking responsibility for your actions was what truly mattered.

Somewhere between the first few weeks at Parris Island and the months that followed, it dawned on me that the Corps wasn?t teaching me something new as much as it was repeating what my father had already tried to drive into me. Standards matter. Consistency matters. And if your actions don?t line up with what you claim, people notice.

Where Influence Actually Grows

Over the years, I?ve held positions that would once have impressed the younger version of me. I?ve led organizations, stood behind podiums, and listened as someone read a list of credentials that made it seem as if I had arrived at an important place. Those things come with responsibility, and I take that seriously. However, I no longer mistake them as a substitute for trust.

What I?ve come to understand is that influence shows up in the little decisions most people never notice. It shows up when you keep your word without being reminded, when you take responsibility without turning it into a speech about your intentions, and when you stay measured in moments that invite you to tighten up.

No matter what you say, people pay attention to your actions. They see how you handle inconvenience, how you respond when you are challenged, and whether you are the same person on a difficult day as you are when everything is going well. Trust forms slowly around those observations.

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I first learned that in the Marines, and I?ve watched it play out ever since in conference rooms, training sessions, and everyday conversations. A title may open a door for you, but it doesn?t carry you through it. Influence grows over time, and it keeps growing only as long as your behavior supports it.