I was sitting in the corner of my basement office in St. Louis, back pressed into the old leather chair, ceiling low, a small leak I hadn’t quite fixed dripping nearby. I had poured myself into fortifying those walls just like I had poured myself into the organization I was leading.
That night, I had a decision to make. A tough one.
Because I was in a good environment.
But I wasn’t sure it was a growth environment.
That persistent leak seemed to ask the question I hadn’t said aloud:
Is this still where I grow?
Hungry for More
It was early in my career, my second job. I was leading an interfaith organization with a board of extraordinary people. People of service. People on mission. And many of them were growth-minded in ways that made sense to them: growing their congregations, deepening relationships, increasing influence.
My three main responsibilities were clear:
🔑 Stabilize the organization’s financial foundation
🔑 Mobilize more volunteers
🔑 Build meaningful community partnerships
And I did all of this while hiring strategically and showing up intentionally.
We made progress. But after a few years, I brought a challenge to the board:
“If we want to grow, we may need to stretch our vision and funding in different ways.”
That didn’t sit well with everyone.
One influential board member responded,
“We’re a mom-and-pop shop. We’re not trying to get bigger.”
He wasn’t being rude, he was being real. Their goal wasn’t to expand, it was to sustain. They were content with doing good work quietly and simply.
And that forced me to confront something that would become a key leadership truth for me:
A good environment isn’t always a growth environment.
I realized then that growth wasn’t just about strategy. It was about values. About hunger.
What Makes a Growth Environment?
Looking back, I realize that moment shaped my understanding of leadership. And it taught me to recognize the signs of growth-oriented environments—because not all of them are loud or flashy. Some are subtle. But they have unmistakable patterns.
Here are five that I’ve learned to look for, along with the silent signals of their absence:
1. People Are Challenged to Stretch
In growth environments, people are stretched. In stagnant ones, people are settled.
You’re invited to move beyond comfort zones. You’re encouraged to test new ideas, try new skills, and take risks, not reckless ones, but the ones that come from stepping into the unknown.
Growth doesn’t come without discomfort.
2. Mistakes Are Treated as Learning
In growth environments, mistakes are data. In stagnant ones, they’re shame.
Failure isn’t the end, it’s part of the process. I remember one of our largest grant opportunities. It forced us to design a new program we’d never done before. That grant came through just before I exited the organization, and it helped stabilize our budget. We had to stretch to get it.
Growth is iterative. You learn by doing, and sometimes by stumbling.
3. Feedback Is Clear and Constructive
In growth environments, feedback is fuel. In stagnant ones, feedback is a cage.
During my time there, feedback was consistent, but often laced with limits:
“You’re too forward-thinking.”
That wasn’t just feedback on my ideas, it was feedback on the organization’s appetite.
If your ideas are always “too much,” you might be in the wrong room.
4. Success Is Shared and Celebrated
In growth environments, wins are momentum. In stagnant ones, wins are the finish line.
In that faith-based space, we gave credit away. Wins were communal. That was beautiful. But celebration alone doesn’t create movement. In growth environments, small wins are a signal to keep going, not stop there.
5. There’s a Clear Vision That Compels Forward Motion
In growth environments, vision pulls people forward. In stagnant ones, comfort keeps them still.
I tried to position the organization for national relevance. The platform was there. But the vision wasn’t shared. And without that alignment, I felt stuck.
Growth needs a destination. And that destination must matter to the people building it.
What Season Are You In?
Here’s the part where it gets personal, for you.
Maybe you’re in an organization full of kind, ethical, competent people. It’s stable. It’s respectful. It’s good.
But is it growing?
Are you?
Ask yourself:
🔍 Am I being stretched, or just supported?
🔍 Are my ideas oxygenated, or suffocated?
🔍 Do the people around me believe in possibility, or just maintenance?
🔍 Does my organization reward curiosity, or penalize disruption?
Because where you are in your career lifecycle will shape the kind of environment you need.
Sometimes, you need stability. A place to heal, breathe, contribute. Other times, you need to be in an ecosystem that is agitating your potential, challenging your assumptions, and expanding your relevance in the marketplace.
“Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes.” — Isaiah 54:2
That verse reminds me: even good ground must be expanded to carry new growth.
What I Carried With Me
When I left that role, I didn’t leave my mindset. I took it with me:
▶️ To United Way: I saw scale as service.
▶️ To the bank: I saw reinvention as responsibility.
▶️ Into every boardroom, every decision, every speech: I brought a growth mindset.
And I’ve come to believe this:
Growth isn’t about chasing titles. It’s about evolving into who your calling demands you to become.
Final Thought: Your Next Move
Before you make your next move, pause.
Ask yourself:
Do I need a good environment, or a growth environment?
Because one will comfort who you are.
And the other will challenge who you’re becoming.
Let’s Talk About It
Have you ever been in a good environment that wasn’t a growth environment?
How did you know it was time to leave, or stay?
Drop your reflections in the comments. Let’s grow together.
Thought-provoking reflections and leadership perspectives