
When I became the manager of an education sales team, I discovered several unhealthy practices that had quietly become normalized within the organization.
One involved teachers paying membership fees out of their own pockets to keep withdrawn students officially enrolled on paper.
Another involved delaying enrollment processing while privately managing tuition payments outside normal procedures.
The numbers themselves were not enormous.
But the real problem was the pressure these practices placed on frontline teachers — financially and emotionally.
I had a choice to make:
Accept the system as it was, or try to change it despite the risks.
I chose the latter.
At the time, two beliefs guided me:
“Have you even tried?”
“New employees have the right to make mistakes.”
I made it clear that these practices would no longer be tolerated.
At the same time, I did not want to become the kind of manager who simply imposed principles from above while leaving all the burden to the staff.
So I stepped into the field myself.
I personally met with members who wanted to quit.
I helped with recruitment activities when teachers became exhausted.
I repeatedly trained staff on counseling and teaching methods.
I wanted to lead alongside the team, not just supervise them.
Of course, success was never guaranteed.
But as teachers saw their manager working beside them, they slowly began to open up.
I also believed leadership was reflected in small everyday behaviors.
I was careful with both words and actions.
Threatening language and humiliating jokes were not tolerated.
At the time, it was also common for teachers to pay for meals with managers. I rejected that culture and insisted everyone pay for themselves.
These may have seemed like small details.
But trust inside an organization is often built through small choices repeated consistently over time.
The transition was painful at first.
Once inflated performance figures disappeared, our team rankings dropped sharply.
Some people questioned whether I had disrupted the system unnecessarily.
Still, I believed one thing deeply:
Performance built on distorted numbers eventually destroys the organization itself.
Over time, however, the atmosphere began to change.
Teachers became emotionally more stable.
The organization itself became more cooperative.
For years, I had believed this:
“Only when teachers feel emotionally secure can genuine sincerity reach students and parents.”
Eventually, that belief translated into results.
Over time, the team stabilized and continued to achieve strong results nationwide. I was also fortunate to receive several company awards during that period.
Looking back, I learned something simple:
In leadership, the most sustainable path is often the most honest one.
P.S. The two core beliefs that guided this successful journey were actually forged 40 years ago during a global supply chain crisis at Samsung [Read the origin here]. However, years later, when I applied these exact same principles to another troubled branch, I had to face the darkest and most painful consequences of my career [Read the sequel here].
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