I worked in a place where the culture didn’t work for me.
Different approaches. Different priorities.

My lens is long-term development, building relationships that grow into partnerships.
In this environment, it felt more like early objectives mattered most, even if that meant losing people along the way.

Safe to say, I didn’t feel comfortable. I couldn’t see myself being there for long.

After two months, I resigned. And being the “I want to help” kind of guy, I sat down with the director to figure out how to leave without leaving them hanging. I explained it plainly:
“I don’t think we’re compatible. My way of doing things doesn’t fit this system, and I don’t want to break something that works for you.”

What followed reassured me I’d made the right call.

The conversation turned defensive. My system was dismissed and criticised, without ever having been discussed. We had never actually sat down to talk about how we would work together. That one’s on me; I made that mistake before taking the job.

He used a three-week training block followed by two weeks of holidays as evidence that my approach didn’t work. No habit forms that quickly, especially after a complete shift in coaching style. Then came the closer:
“I have 30 years of experience working with kids.”

Not as curiosity.
As a shield.

I’ve travelled long enough, and worked across enough cultures, to learn two things: how to take the best from each place and how to quietly trust that my method works. What still fascinates me is how often difference is perceived as threat. A very human response.

The question that stays with me isn’t whether one system is right or wrong.

It’s this:

Are we learning to sit with difference
or just protecting what feels familiar?