Silence isn’t weakness, sometimes it’s survival.
I loved almost everything about it: the autonomy, the trust, and the chance to help my team improve both productivity and engagement.
No manager was present at night, so I could run the team according to my own values focusing on collaboration, fairness, and continuous improvement. My team responded well to that openness. Together, we created something special.
The Challenge
We were eight production supervisors covering four shifts. My influence was limited to my own team and occasionally my colleague’s team on the same shift.
That meant every night, I had to “inherit” the state of the floor from whoever supervised before me. And unfortunately, some supervisors were far less rigorous.
So, every time I came in, I found inconsistent practices, ignored rules, and employees confused about expectations.
I often had to explain:
“Yes, I know the rule wasn’t enforced on the previous shift but it still applies on ours.”
It was exhausting.
Since I had no authority over the other supervisors, and I was the least senior, there wasn’t much I could do to change the culture.
The Opportunity
One day, a new initiative was announced: the company would create a “factory within the factory.”
Some lines would move to 8-hour shifts instead of 12, each with a team leader per shift and one supervisor overseeing the entire operation.
Immediately, I saw it. This was the opportunity to build a cohesive culture from the top, with one set of rules, one vision, one standard.
Perfect for my ambitions.
I went straight to the manager leading the project and mentioned how excited I was. I applied for the role immediately.
Before my interview, I went back to ask one question that puzzled me:
“Why were the team leaders already selected before hiring the supervisor? Shouldn’t the supervisor choose their team, to ensure a good fit?”
It seemed logical since the team leaders are the supervisor’s eyes and ears across shifts.
I don’t remember the exact answer I received. I simply assumed the process was well thought out and that I could adapt later if the fit wasn’t ideal.
The Interview
I went into the interview confident. My results as a production supervisor spoke for themselves since our performance had improved dramatically under my leadership.
But from the very first minute… something felt off.
The questions were strange. Some of the confidential information I had shared earlier was suddenly used against me. The tone was cold, almost adversarial.
I didn’t feel like they wanted to assess my abilities. I felt like they wanted to disqualify me.
By the end, my stomach was in knots which the way stress always hits me.
I knew I had bombed it.
Looking back, I still wonder if I ever truly had a chance.
The Decision
A few weeks later, the manager called me in for a meeting.
As soon as I stepped into the office, I saw a note on the desk:
“Congratulations, [Candidate’s Name], you’ve been selected for the position.”
In five seconds, I knew the outcome.
No problem. The chosen candidate had actually trained me, and she was extremely competent. I was genuinely happy for her, even if I was disappointed.
When the manager entered, I said honestly:
“I saw the note so I guess I didn’t get the job.”
To this day, I still don’t fully understand what I said wrong at that moment… but it triggered an explosion.
The Longest Hour
The manager was furious.
I was accused of snooping, of disrespect, of arrogance. I tried to apologize, explaining that the paper was right on the desk and I hadn’t gone looking for it.
But it didn’t matter.
For the next hour, the manager yelled at me non-stop, listing every supposed flaw, many of which were pure fiction.
The breaking point came when this person said:
“You use your diplomas to make others feel inferior.”
That one hit hard. Not because it was true, but because it was absurd.
I have a Bachelor’s degree and two Master’s degrees, but I don’t even know where my diplomas are stored. I didn’t attend either graduation for my Master’s degrees. My team knew I was educated, but no one even knew in what field.
At that moment, I realized this wasn’t about performance. It was a personal attack and a loss of control.
And I froze.
I didn’t know if I could leave the room. I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there and took it.
That hour felt like an eternity.
Holding Back
If you know me, you know silence isn’t my default state.
I’ve always been talkative, a “verbal machine.” As a teenager, I was even arrogant, sometimes harsh with teachers. I’ve worked hard over the years to tame that side of me and channel my communication more constructively.
So, in that moment, I knew that if I let anger take over, I could say something I’d regret.
I decided to stay calm, say as little as possible, and let the storm pass.
When it was finally over, I even told the manager:
“I wish you success with this new project.”
The reply?
“I doubt you really mean that, but if you do, thanks.”
After one hour of verbal abuse, that was the parting shot.
I left the office stunned.
What Happened Next
Of course, I was angry and deeply hurt.
I went straight to my direct boss (who had the same title as the manager) and explained everything that had happened.
He listened politely but didn’t take notes. I didn’t feel like anything would come of it.
So, I went over his head.
In fairness, I didn’t really give him the chance to act. That same evening, I sent an email to his boss and the message was basically this:
“After that conversation, I’m questioning my future with the company.”
The reaction was immediate. The next morning, he called me into his office.
The Truth Comes Out
He told me he was surprised by my email because the manager had reported that the meeting went very well.
I told him what had actually happened.
According to him, the meeting was supposed to be simple. The manager was meant to thank me for my contribution, reassure me of my value to the company, and explain that I’d have another opportunity later.
That’s… not what happened.
I made it clear that while I’d remain professional, I had lost all respect for that manager.
I said:
“I’ll work with this person if I have to, but I’ll never be part of a team managed by this person.”
The Aftermath
Later, one of my team leaders told me something that tied everything together:
“Everyone knew who was going to get that job before the interviews even started.”
It all made sense.
The team leaders for the new operation had already been selected by the manager and the person who got the job. The “interview” process had been a formality to make it look fair.
When I saw the congratulatory note on the desk, the manager probably panicked, afraid I’d expose the scheme and lost control.
I never had a real chance.
Ironically, a few months later, I was promoted to Warehouse Manager, becoming an equal to that same person.
I worked professionally, helped when needed, and never mentioned that incident again.
A few months later, that manager was let go. Was it because of how I was handled? I’ll never know. But it certainly didn’t strengthen the leadership credibility of this manager.
Learning Section: What This Experience Taught Me
That hour taught me far more than any promotion could have. Here’s what I took away:
1️⃣ Leadership Is Tested in the Dark Moments
It’s easy to be professional when everything goes your way. True leadership shows up when you’re under attack, humiliated, or treated unfairly and you still choose integrity over anger.
2️⃣ Emotional Control Is a Leadership Superpower
In that meeting, I had every reason to fight back. But losing my temper would have validated their narrative. By staying calm, I protected my credibility and my future.
3️⃣ Respect Is Earned by Behavior, Not Titles
That manager had authority, but no credibility. Leadership isn’t about the position you hold, it’s about how you treat people, especially when no one’s watching.
4️⃣ Not Every Battle Is Worth Fighting
I could have made a scene or filed an official complaint. Instead, I documented what mattered, focused on my team, and waited for the next opportunity. The right doors opened soon after.
5️⃣ Integrity Always Outlasts Injustice
Time has a way of revealing character. The manager who tried to discredit me eventually faced their own consequences. I didn’t have to fight back. I just had to keep showing up with consistency and professionalism.
Conclusion: The Hour That Defined My Leadership
That hour, the longest of my professional life could have turned me bitter. Instead, it became a defining moment in my leadership journey.
I realized that how you respond to unfairness defines who you are as a leader.
A true leader doesn’t seek revenge. They seek growth. They don’t let toxic people change their values, they let those moments strengthen them.
In hindsight, that hour wasn’t a punishment. It was a test. And it prepared me for every leadership challenge that came after.
Because leadership isn’t about the titles you earn. It’s about the character you keep when no one’s cheering for you.
Carl-Michael Tessier, M.Sc., MBA
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