You May Never Know Who You Inspire

You May Never Know Who You Inspire

By Evelyn Talatala Clough

A few days ago, someone I worked with years ago told me that I had inspired her. She told me she had learned from my leadership and admired the way I led. Her words touched me deeply.

But what stayed with me most was something much simpler:

I had no idea.

I didn't know she was watching. I didn't know she was learning from me. And I certainly wasn't walking into work every day thinking about how I could inspire someone.

I was simply trying to do my job well, take care of my people, and lead in the way I believed people deserved to be led.

Her words made me wonder:

How many people do we influence without ever knowing it?

We tend to think of influence as something visible. We measure success through titles, promotions, awards, followers, recognition, or the number of people who know our names.

But maybe some of the most meaningful influence we will ever have cannot be measured at all. Sometimes it lives quietly inside another person.

The People Who Are Watching

Throughout my career, I have always believed that leadership is about people.

Yes, results matter. Performance matters. Accountability matters. I have spent much of my career building organizations, transforming operations, solving problems, and expecting high standards from myself and the people around me.

But people remember more than the results.

• They remember how you treated them.
• They remember whether you believed in them.
• They remember whether you listened when they needed someone to listen.
• They remember whether you stood beside them when things became difficult.
• And sometimes, they remember things you don't even remember doing.

That conversation reminded me of something I think we sometimes forget:

People are paying attention even when we don't realize it.

I have had people throughout my life who influenced me in exactly that way. Some knew what they were doing. Others probably never realized the impact they had on me.

And the more I thought about that, the further back my mind traveled. All the way home.

Before I Knew What Leadership Was

Long before I ever had a title, my first lessons in leadership came from my parents.

My father was a farmer. My mother was the eldest of thirteen children. Neither of them had an executive title or a leadership book sitting on a shelf.

But they taught me lessons I have carried my entire life.

I watched my father save every coin because every coin mattered. I watched my parents sacrifice for eight children. I watched them work, struggle, give, and somehow continue to believe that their children could have opportunities they never had themselves.

They never sat me down and said, Evelyn, this is how you become a leader.

They simply lived.

And I watched.

I learned perseverance before I knew the word for it. I learned sacrifice before I understood what they were sacrificing. I learned that you could have very little and still have dignity, pride, laughter, dreams, and something to give.

They were influencing me without knowing where that influence would someday go. And now, decades later, pieces of them live in the way I lead, the way I raised my children, and the way I see the world.

One, Ten, or a Hundred

Recently, someone asked me what my goal was for my book, One Hundred Dollars.

I didn't have to think very long about my answer.

My goal was never to become a bestselling author.

If that ever happens naturally, of course I will be grateful. But that isn't why I wrote the book.

I wrote it because I wanted to tell my story. I wanted my children to understand where their mother came from. I wanted them to know their Lolo and Lola—not simply through names and photographs, but through the stories that shaped our family.

And I hoped that perhaps someone else might find something in my journey that they needed.

• Maybe one person.
• Maybe ten.
• Maybe a hundred.

The number doesn't really matter to me.

If one person reads my story and decides not to give up, that is enough.

If one person realizes that where they started does not have to determine where they finish, that is enough.

If someone who has experienced failure or disappointment decides to try one more time, that is enough.

If a young woman with a dream bigger than her circumstances reads my story and thinks, Maybe I can do it too, that is enough.

Because I have come to understand something:

We may never know.

You Don't Always Get to See the Difference You Make

Not everyone you inspire will come back years later and tell you.

• An employee may remember something you said during one of the hardest moments of their career.
• A young person may watch how you carry yourself and quietly decide she wants to become that kind of woman.
• Your children may remember something you did that you considered completely ordinary.
• Someone may read something you wrote and find exactly the words they needed that day.

You may never receive the message. You may never hear the story. You may never know their name.

That doesn't make the impact any less real.

The person who shared those words with me gave me a gift. She allowed me to see an impact I didn't even know I had made. And perhaps that is why her words humbled me so much.

They reminded me that influence isn't always something we intentionally create. Sometimes it is simply the result of how we choose to live.

Tell Them

There is another lesson I took from that conversation.

If someone has made a difference in your life, tell them.

• Don't assume they know.
• Tell the teacher who believed in you.
• Tell the manager who gave you a chance.
• Tell the friend who showed up when you needed someone.
• Tell the person whose example made you believe something was possible for you.

The person who told me I had inspired her probably had no idea how much those words would mean to me. But now I know that something I did made a difference in her life.

And because she chose to tell me, she made a difference in mine.

There is something beautiful about that.

The Ripple

Maybe that is how influence works. It passes quietly from one person to another.

My parents gave something to me. I carried it forward. Perhaps I gave something to someone else. And perhaps that person will give something to someone I will never meet.

The ripple continues, often far beyond what any of us will ever see.

• So keep leading.
• Keep giving.
• Keep encouraging.
• Keep dreaming.
• Keep showing up as the person you want to be, even when no one seems to be watching.

Because someone might be.

And maybe influence isn't about how many people know your name.

Maybe it's about the people who carry something you gave them long after you've left the room.

We may never know all of their names. That's okay.

• If you touch one life, that matters.
• If it's ten, wonderful.
• If it's a hundred, that's a blessing.

But never underestimate the power of one.

Someone may be watching who needs to see that it can be done.

If I can do it, so can you.