Last week, I had the opportunity to teach an ethics class for an association that has been part of my journey for many years, and I honestly had the best time. As I stood at the front of the room teaching, facilitating conversations, and answering questions, I found myself reflecting on how much of my own professional growth began in rooms exactly like this one.
For a few hours, old-school Barb was back. Before the keynotes, before the book, before the larger audiences and bigger stages, there were classrooms like this one. There were association events, professional development classes, and rooms full of people who simply wanted to learn, grow, and get better at what they do.
I’ve taught so many classes in that room over the years that I’ve honestly lost count. Walking back into that space this week brought back a flood of memories. I found myself reflecting on a season of life when I was just getting started, trying to learn everything I could, saying yes to opportunities, and dreaming about what might be possible. I remember looking at speakers on big stages and wondering what it would feel like to have that kind of impact. At the time, those dreams felt incredibly far away.
What struck me this week was realizing that somewhere along the way, those dreams became reality. I’ve had the privilege of standing on stages I once only imagined. I’ve had opportunities to work with organizations around the country, speak to audiences I never would have envisioned years ago, and build a career doing work that I genuinely love. Yet as I stood in that classroom, what I appreciated most wasn’t thinking about the stages I’ve been on or the milestones I’ve reached. It was remembering the rooms that came first.
We spend so much time talking about accomplishments, milestones, and visible success. We celebrate the book launch, the keynote, the promotion, the award, or the big opportunity. Those moments deserve to be celebrated because they represent years of hard work and commitment. But what we don’t talk about nearly enough are the hundreds of smaller moments that make those milestones possible. We don’t talk enough about the classrooms where we learned, the associations and communities that welcomed us in, the volunteer opportunities that helped us gain confidence, or the mentors who gave us a chance before we felt ready.
The reality is that growth rarely happens in one defining moment. It happens through consistency. It happens through showing up over and over again, often in rooms where nobody is paying much attention. It happens through practicing your craft, building relationships, and taking opportunities long before they feel glamorous. The moments that shape us most are often the ones that never make it onto social media and never become part of the highlight reel.
I think that’s one of the reasons this week felt so meaningful to me. Being back in that room reminded me that so much of my career was built in places just like it. Long before there were keynote stages, there were training rooms. Long before there were audiences of hundreds, there were groups of twenty. Long before there was a book, there were conversations. Those experiences didn’t just help me build a career; they helped shape who I am.
The same thing is true in our relationships. We often think the most important moments are the big ones, but relationships are rarely built that way. They are built through the small interactions that happen consistently over time. The quick check-in, the follow-up conversation, the opportunity to support someone, the decision to show up when it would be easier not to. Those moments may seem insignificant when they’re happening, but over time they become the foundation of trust, connection, and opportunity.
This week reminded me how much I love this industry and this community. The relationships, friendships, lessons, and opportunities they’ve provided have shaped every chapter of my journey. So much of who I am today was developed in rooms just like that one, surrounded by people who were committed to learning, growing, and helping each other succeed.
As I drove home after class, I found myself feeling incredibly grateful. Grateful for the journey, grateful for the people who have been part of it, and grateful that every once in a while I get the chance to return to where it all started. There’s something special about revisiting the places that helped build you. They remind you of how far you’ve come, but they also remind you of the people, experiences, and communities that helped you get there.
While it’s exciting to chase what’s next, I think there’s real value in occasionally looking back and appreciating what came before. The rooms that challenged you, the communities that welcomed you, and the people who believed in you before anyone else did deserve to be remembered.
When you take the time to reflect on where your journey began, you often gain a deeper appreciation for where you are today, and a renewed sense of gratitude for everyone who helped make it possible.