By Sara Roger
Chaos, uncertainty, deadlines, endless meetings, new guy syndrome. You might call these facts of life, but for me, they were the ingredients in this week’s signature dish: “Fill the Gap for the Brigade Operations Officer.” For the non-military crowd, this meant I was stepping up to temporarily cover the role of the most senior Major in the unit, the one responsible for coordinating operations for a 1,200-person organization, on top of doing my actual job as the Brigade Fire Support officer. I was over my head, running on adrenaline, spotty sleep, and more coffee than I care to admit.
As the week wore on and the caffeine wore off, one unexpected reflection bubbled to the surface and wouldn’t let go:
“Captain Roger (circa 2020) was a judgmental jerk to her Majors.”
And just like that, I was hit with the uncomfortable realization that I had once been exactly what I now hope others won’t be toward me. Years ago, I assumed the worst of my leaders when they seemed disorganized, overwhelmed, or out of sync.
Now, standing in their boots, I realize they were probably just doing their best under pressure… just like I am.
This week was a powerful reminder of why empathy matters in leadership, especially when you’re the one feeling the effects of someone else’s learning curve.
I understood, now more than ever, how unforgiving I had been 5–7 years ago. I used to label Majors with words like incompetent, out of touch, lobotomized, and worse. I never considered their learning curve, the complexity of their roles, or the weight they carried behind closed doors.
Now here I am—a Major—new to the unit, new to Army operations in Europe, and coming off a four-year break from the operational force. I’ve found myself asking 2,319 questions just to understand how the unit runs. And when I give guidance that’s outdated or misses the mark, I’m not doing it because I’m checked out; I’m doing my best while still finding my footing.
Back then, I thought being “squared away” meant being flawless and fast—quick with decisions, quicker with judgment. I prided myself on being the junior officer who “got it” and saw through the nonsense. But now I realize how much I didn’t know. It takes a different kind of strength to lead with patience. It takes courage to ask questions, humility to admit what you don’t know, and wisdom to listen before you speak. I didn’t see that before. But I see it now.
What I need right now is what I didn’t give back then: empathy.
I want people to extend the same grace to me that I failed to offer others. I want them to assume good intent when I fall short, to ask clarifying questions rather than cast judgment, and to help me learn the ropes with compassion.
…In short, I want them to treat me the opposite of how CPT Roger treated her Majors.
Karma’s a heck of a gal, ain’t she?
While I could just chalk this up to karma, it would be a missed opportunity for growth: How easy it is to judge someone without knowing their story. How quick we are to label others as incompetent or incapable instead of curious or overwhelmed. How often we miss the chance to lead with empathy, to create space for growth, or to simply be kind.
So what does empathy look like in action?
- “Hey, is there more to this that I might not be seeing?”
- “Can you walk me through how you got to that decision?”
- “What’s the biggest challenge you’re juggling right now?”
- “Is there something I can help clarify?”
- “How can I support you better in this?”
Sometimes, empathy is just giving people the room to explain themselves. Other times, it’s recognizing that not everyone is operating at 100%, and meeting them with patience anyway.
Whether it’s a superior, a peer, or a subordinate, I hope to ask more questions before I jump to conclusions. I hope to be the kind of leader who doesn’t just seek to be understood—but seeks to understand.
Because at the end of the day, I think most of us just want to feel valued, to be met with compassion, and to be given the chance to grow without fear of judgment.
What kind of workplace, or world, could we create if we all led with just a little more empathy?
MAJ Sara Roger is a Field Artillery Officer who enjoys living life to the fullest with her best friend and husband, MAJ Sam Balch (also a Field Artillery Officer). She reflects on life, culture, and the Army profession on her blog, Morale is High.
