A few months into my first assistant city manager role, our assistant public works director caught me in between meetings and asked what she probably assumed was a routine operational question. “What would you like us to do with the dead hogs we pick up?” 

I paused. “The…what?”

“The dead hogs.”

I wish I could tell you I immediately launched into a thoughtful discussion about disposal and operational policies. Instead, I was silently processing two realizations.

First, I had never even seen a wild hog in person. I’m a city girl. Before moving to take this position, my encounters with wildlife were generally limited to squirrels. Second, I had somehow become responsible for helping determine the final resting place of feral hogs. 

Leadership has a funny way of humbling you. When I accepted this position, I was moving across the state, transitioning from a career as a specialist over certain areas into a broader city administration role and taking on oversight of departments outside my primary area of expertise. One of the first was public works.

I wasn’t walking in as a complete novice. Throughout my career, I had worked alongside public works professionals on development projects. I understood how critical public works is to the success of any community. But collaborating with a department is different from helping to lead one.

Now I was responsible for advising on issues ranging from streets and drainage to parks, facilities, capital projects, and countless operational decisions that directly affect residents every day. This moment forced me to make a choice. I could try to establish credibility by acting as though I already had the answers. I could walk around with my big, new title and pretend I knew everything (while secretly googling everything behind the scenes and hoping I never got caught). Or, I could embrace something that made me feel far less impressive but would ultimately serve me, and my city, better. I could become a student. Looking back, I believe that decision has helped shape my leadership more than any technical knowledge I’ve gained along the way.

Becoming the Best Student in the Room

I believe one of the biggest misconceptions about leadership is that leaders must know everything. In local government, that simply isn’t possible. Every department is filled with professionals who have spent years (or decades) mastering their craft. My responsibility wasn’t to become better at their jobs than they were; it was to become better at mine. 

Recognizing that distinction changed how I approached my role. When I first began overseeing public works, I made a conscious decision to learn before I led. That didn’t mean delaying decisions or avoiding responsibility; it meant I approached conversations with curiosity instead of carrying a bunch of assumptions. I asked a lot of questions. I asked employees to explain jargon that everyone else in the room seemed to understand. I got out of the office and walked some of our active project sites. I listened to discussions between our team and outside professionals that stretched way beyond my expertise. Most importantly, I tried to understand not only what my team was recommending but also why. What surprised me was how that approach built trust. 

Let’s be honest with ourselves. People know when someone is pretending to understand something. They also know when a leader genuinely wants to learn. Curiosity and humility aren’t signs of weakness. They can be an avenue to establish sustainable credibility. 

Being a Student Doesn’t Mean Being Hands-Off

Before this is misinterpreted, being a student does not mean being passive or letting someone else take the driver’s seat. I still had a responsibility to validate information, challenge assumptions, ask follow-up questions, and sometimes overrule a recommendation from the team. Listening and learning couldn’t be the end of the process. It was only the beginning. 

The more I understood the work, the more confident I became asking harder questions. The better I understood our operations, the better equipped I was to identify risks, weigh priorities, and support my team. 

Confidence Looks Different Than I Expected

Earlier in my career, I probably would have assumed that I would always have immediate answers to everything. So far, experience has taught me something different. Confident leaders are comfortable saying, “Help me understand this.” They ask questions, and they recognize expertise in others without feeling threatened by it. They have confidence rooted in a willingness to learn. I think that approach has earned me more credibility than pretending to know everything. 

A Lesson Bigger Than Public Works

Although this lesson began with an off-the-wall question from public works, it’s something that transcends a particular department. A planner becomes an assistant city manager, a finance director begins overseeing parks, and a public works director becomes a city manager responsible for every department. No one arrives fully prepared for every challenge that comes with executive leadership. The question isn’t if we’ll encounter something we’ve never dealt with before. We all will. 

The question is how we'll respond when we do. Will we pretend to know? Or, will we have the confidence to learn? The strongest leaders aren't always the ones with the most answers, but they're often the ones asking the best questions. Titles may open the door, but trust is earned through openness and honesty. 

A Challenge to Leaders

If you're stepping into a new role, gaining responsibility for a department outside your expertise, or just facing a challenge you've never encountered before, resist the temptation to prove yourself immediately. Spend more time listening than talking. Visit project sites. Ask employees to explain not just what they do, but why they do it. Validate what you learn. Then lead with confidence that’s rooted in understanding rather than assumption.

I've learned a great deal about public works since that conversation outside my office. Fortunately, questions about dead hogs don't come across my desk very often now. But I've also realized that every leader eventually gets their own version of the dead hog question.

Maybe yours is a utility emergency, a new capital project going awry, your first budget crisis, or an operational issue so specific and unexpected that you wonder how it became your responsibility in the first place. Whatever it is, there will come a moment when someone looks to you for direction, and you simply don't know the answer.

That's not a failure of leadership. What matters is what you do next.

You can hide behind your title and hope no one notices what you don't know. Or, you can respect the expertise around you, ask good questions, validate what you learn, and have the confidence to say, "Help me understand."

I did eventually learn what we do with the dead hogs. But the more important lesson was learning what to do when I don't know the answer.

For more, watch the Successful Managing Beyond the Scope of Practice SheLeadsGov webinar on demand.