The Art of Listening

When I was younger, I used to think leadership meant speaking — being the loudest, the one with the plan. But over time, I’ve realized that real leadership often starts with silence.

I first learned this behind the jewelry counter at my dad’s fairs. Buyers spoke in quick bursts — German, English, Mandarin — switching mid-sentence when numbers didn’t match. I couldn’t always keep up, but I noticed something: the best deals didn’t come from the best talkers, but from the best listeners. My dad would lean back, nod quietly, and wait. Within seconds, the buyer would start explaining what they really wanted — not just the price, but the feeling they were chasing: exclusivity, trust, a story.

That pattern stuck with me. At school, I began to notice how many conflicts happened because people were too busy preparing their next argument instead of actually hearing the other person. When I started mentoring a younger student who had just moved to Germany, I didn’t try to give advice right away. I just listened. It turned out he didn’t need solutions, just someone to understand what being “the new kid” felt like.

Listening taught me more about empathy than any leadership workshop could. It’s not passive — it’s an active kind of patience, a way of seeing beyond words.

Now, whether I’m helping at a fair, working on a group project, or just sitting with friends, I remind myself: speak less, notice more. Sometimes the quietest person in the room understands the most.