Are you complicit in creating what you don't want?

I still remember walking down those stairs from orientation on my first day at Hilton.

Just minutes before, I'd been sitting in a conference room listening to Conrad Hilton's vision "to spread the light and warmth of hospitality."

His words about promoting world peace through travel, about understanding rather than being understood, about seeing that divine spark in every person—it all resonated deeply with something I didn't even know I was searching for.

Then I walked downstairs to my actual workspace.

Gray walls. Gray cubicles. Heads down. Everyone for themselves.

The disconnect was jarring. Here was this beautiful, transformative vision upstairs, and down here was the reality—a place that felt more like survival than service.

Have you ever felt that gap? Between what drew you to hospitality and what your daily experience actually looks like?

That first day taught me something crucial about our industry: the vision is real, but so is the challenge of living it out in environments that don't always support that vision.

I had a choice to make. I could accept the gray cubicle reality, or I could figure out how to bring that "light and warmth" down to the third floor.

I decided to put on my pastoral hat.

I started organizing happy hours. Writing emails that connected people rather than just conveying information. Looking for what people had in common instead of what divided them. Creating space for laughter and genuine connection.

Something shifted. Not overnight, but gradually. The environment began to change because someone decided to bridge the gap between aspiration and action.

Years later, I discovered a question from leadership coach Jerry Colonna that perfectly captures what I was learning: "How are you complicit in creating the conditions you say you don't want?"

It's a hard question. But also liberating.

When I think about that gray cubicle environment, I realize everyone there probably wanted more connection, more meaning, more alignment with Conrad's vision. But we were all waiting for someone else to create it.

The moment I stopped waiting and started contributing, everything changed.

In hospitality leadership, this question becomes even more powerful. When we complain about disengaged teams, difficult guests, or toxic culture, we have to ask: What am I doing—or not doing—that might be contributing to this?

This isn't about blame. It's about power. It's about recognizing where we actually have influence to create change.

Take a moment to think about your own experience in hospitality:

What originally drew you to this industry? What vision captured your imagination?

Where do you notice the biggest gaps between that vision and your current reality?

And here's the big question: How might you be unconsciously contributing to the conditions you wish were different?

Take care,

Josh