Take Flight

On certain farms and in some rural areas throughout France, there resides a curious group of ducks. I know about these ducks because my buddy, Andy Minor, sent me a text when he was visiting France last summer. His exact text was... 

“I have a story for you. “ 

... and Andy added a picture of these ducks. 

I was intrigued, and Andy later explained to me these are perfectly healthy ducks. These ducks have working wings, with feathers built for lift, and bodies designed for the sky. But these ducks don’t fly, because they’ve never been taught to fly!  

Their lack of flight is not because of injury, or because of some biological limitation, or some restrictive cage. They don’t fly because they simply have never been taught to fly, so until they learn, they’ll never... Take Flight. 

And that’s all I needed to begin my investigation into these flightless ducks, and in so doing, I was able to explore the power of teaching and the limitations of not being taught. 

Fueled by intrigue and a desire for an interesting blog perspective, I learned no duck has ever taken off in front of these ducks. No caring duck mentor has ever shown them the way. None of these ducks have ever received an invitation that sounded like, “Hey! Watch this. You can do it too.” 

Through my semi-extensive(ish) research, I learned that these ducks swim, they waddle, and they flap occasionally, but they never take flight. 

I’m assuming here, so bear with me; Over time, an assumption must settle in with these ducks, and their self-talk becomes, “Ducks like us don’t fly.” 

This dangerous duck assumption is fascinating and makes me sad for these ducks… because it isn’t true. They have the wings, the strength, and the design to fly. What they don’t have is exposure. And this got me thinking that sometimes exposure is the only difference between staying grounded and taking flight. So, here we go!!! 

If you’re a leader, teacher, coach, presenter, or someone who helps others grow, this story might feel familiar, because we humans do something very similar. We often confuse lack of access with lack of ability. 

A student decides they aren’t “a math person.” 

A professional concludes they aren’t “leadership material.” 

A speaker assumes they just aren’t “confident” on stage. 

These decisions, conclusions, and assumption do not arise solely because these people lack the capacity. They arise because no one has ever shown them how. No one modeled what it looks like to fly. No one with the proper relationship, trust, and authority said, “Come with me. Watch this. Try it.” 

And slowly the assumptions form, and we start thinking and/or saying things that become self-fulfilling prophesies. But the truth is often much simpler, and much more hopeful. There are certainly times we may lack the competency to do a thing, but sometimes we don’t fly because we’ve never seen someone like us take off. This is where the role of leaders becomes so powerful. Leadership isn’t just about direction, it’s about demonstration. 

Sometimes it’s our goal is to simply be the duck that lifts off the water or ground, so others realize the sky was always available. 

Teachers do this by unlocking curiosity. 

Coaches do this by helping someone see what they’re capable of achieving. 

Presenters do this by putting language to ideas people have felt but never quite known how to express. 

Leaders do this by creating invitation and permission. 

Because often the difference between grounded potential and soaring performance is a simple moment that shows others they’re allowed to try. 

So, here are a few questions that got me thinking: 

Where might ability exist but access or knowledge is missing? 

What assumptions have we accepted about ourselves simply because no one ever modeled another possibility? 

Where might someone in your world be grounded, not by limitation, but by lack of invitation? 

And maybe the most important question of all: 

Where in your own life have you quietly decided, “I guess I just can’t fly”? 

If those flightless ducks in France and that random and intriguing text from my buddy, Andy Minor, reminds me of anything, it’s this; Sometimes the sky isn’t the barrier. Sometimes all it takes is one person taking off, to remind the rest of us we had wings all along and that we’re able, in our own unique, wonderful and imperfect way, to... Take Flight.