In high school, I had the good fortune of running cross country under a man named Mr. Smuts. Our coach and my 11th grade AP U.S. History teacher. He was the kind of leader who quietly influenced growth in those around him.
He didn’t bark commands or demand the spotlight. On race day, while other coaches were shouting themselves hoarse, Mr. Smuts would position himself at the mile markers. Calm, steady, present. As we passed, he’d simply call out our split times. No cheering. No panic. Just numbers.
We didn’t need anything else.
He had trained us so well that those times were all the feedback we needed. We knew what they meant. We knew what he expected. And we knew he believed in each of us (even the slow guys, like me).
When we crossed the finish line, sometimes ahead of the competition, sometimes not, he’d quietly remind us that the real opponent wasn’t the other team. It was the clock. It was ourselves.
That quiet challenge made us better. Not just as runners, but as young men.
Mr. Smuts embodied a rare approach to leadership. Seeing others more than being seen. His confidence in us was contagious. His calm became our calm. His consistency helped us believe that showing up and giving our best effort, day after day, was enough to grow into something exceptional.
For a bunch of teenagers full of energy and bravado, his presence could have been drowned out by flash and high school nonsense. But instead, we listened closely. We trusted deeply. And we ran harder.
His leadership style reminds me of a line from the Tao Te Ching:
“When the best leader’s work is done, the people say, ‘We did it ourselves.’”
That’s exactly how it felt. We crossed those finish lines thinking we had pulled it off on our own. Only because he had quietly laid the foundation beneath our feet.
True leaders create space for others to rise.
The Tao Te Ching calls it wu wei, effortless action. Like a river flowing around rocks instead of smashing into them. Doing the right thing at the right time and then stepping back to let the results take root.
Ronald Reagan once said, “There is no limit to what a man can do or where he can go if he doesn’t mind who gets the credit.”
This could have been written about Mr. Smuts.
He led in a way that called attention to others rather than himself. His approach shaped how we performed, how we grew, and how we learned to lead ourselves. His impact showed itself in the confidence he helped us build and the standard of excellence we still carry with us today.
The next time you find yourself in a leadership role at work, in your family, or on any team, ask yourself:
-Am I trying to be the hero, or trying to build others up?
-How can I lead with quiet influence?
-Can I let go of credit and trust the process I’ve helped shape?
The best leaders don’t stand in front of their people. They stand with them, sometimes just off to the side, calmly calling out split times as the race unfolds.
And when it’s over, they nod to themselves, knowing they’ve done their job.
The rest of the story: Mr. Smuts earned his doctorate in Leadership and became Dr. Smuts not long after my time at Cerritos High School (Class of 1984). He went on to become the school’s principal and ultimately the school district’s Superintendent of Schools for many years, before retiring in 2012. He continues to enjoy his retirement years.
Dr. Smuts is a leader who inspired (literally) thousands of kids (and adults).
This video provides a brief glimpse of this truly inspiring and gentle man in 2012 as he prepared to retire. It also highlights my high school campus that looks very much like it did four decades ago.
Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership 
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