It’s the beginning of another school year, and most of us have a script in our heads for how this is supposed to go. Buy the supplies. Check the schedules. Fill out the forms. Get everyone back into a routine. Check all the boxes so that when that first morning arrives, we can get our students onto the bus and out the door.
Businesses have scripts like this, too. We develop routines, processes, checklists, and ways of doing things that keep everything moving. And when something changes, we usually start looking for the next box we’re supposed to check.
But how often do we stop and ask whether the script we’re following is actually working?
My daughter completely turned the script on its head for me this year.
We were sitting in the car one afternoon, getting ready to pick up her younger brother from summer camp, when she looked at me and said, “You know what, Mom? I’ve decided there are some things I want to change in school this year, and I’ve made some goals for myself.”
Now, this is my 11-year-old. She is bright, determined, and perfectly capable of arguing her position until the proverbial lake freezes over. Admitting that she might need to change something is not necessarily her favorite pastime.
But she had been thinking.
One of the things she told me was that she wanted to do better in math. She realized that last year, because she didn’t particularly like math, she sometimes didn’t bother paying attention the way she should have. This year, she wanted to do better in all of her classes, not just the ones she enjoyed.
And as her mother, I was ridiculously proud.
Not because she had suddenly decided she needed perfect grades. I was proud because she had looked at something that wasn’t working, recognized her own part in it, and decided she wanted to try something different. She wasn’t beating herself up over what she had done last year. She was looking forward and deciding what she wanted to change.
So I asked her a question:
"What do you need from me to help you succeed?"
Her answer was immediate.
“I don’t know.”
And there it was.
Sometimes we don't know what we don't know.
She knew she wanted support. She knew I had more life experience than she did. She knew there were probably things I could suggest that she hadn’t considered.
But she couldn’t ask me for something specific because she didn’t yet know what her options were.
So I didn’t tell her, “Well, when you figure out what you need, come ask me.”
Instead, we talked about it.
I offered a few ideas. I asked questions. We talked about what might make things easier and what probably wouldn’t work for her. Most importantly, I asked which ideas felt comfortable enough for her to actually try.
That conversation reminded me of an experience from much earlier in my career.
I was working in management and struggling with a situation when I was told something many employees have probably heard at one point or another:
“If you need help, all you have to do is ask.”
It sounds wonderfully supportive.
Except I didn’t know what to ask for.
I remember explaining that to my supervisor. I didn’t know what resources were available. I didn’t know what kind of assistance they could provide. I didn’t even know what I was allowed to ask for because nobody had ever explained the options.
The response?
“Well, you have to ask for it.”
I remember sitting there incredibly frustrated because we had created a circle I couldn’t get out of.
I couldn't receive help until I asked for it, but I couldn't ask for the right help because I didn't know what help existed.
Years later, as a former teacher and childcare center director, that idea seems even stranger to me. We would never expect a child who is struggling with something unfamiliar to identify the exact intervention they need before we’re willing to help them.
We observe. We ask questions. We offer possibilities. We use our experience to help them understand their options.
So why do we stop doing that when people become adults?
The same gap shows up in business all the time.
A solopreneur knows something isn’t working, but can’t quite explain what.
A new manager knows their team isn’t communicating well, but doesn’t know what process would improve it.
A business owner is overwhelmed and assumes they need another employee, a new platform, or an AI tool, but they aren’t sure which.
A newly promoted leader is told to delegate more, but nobody has helped them figure out what can be delegated, to whom, or what must be in place before a handoff can succeed.
Sometimes the problem isn’t that someone is unwilling to ask for help.
They don't know what question to ask yet.
This is another place where I think we sometimes get expertise wrong.
I don’t know everything.
No consultant does. No advisor does. No CEO, COO, project manager, teacher, or parent does either.
The longer I do this work, the less impressed I am by someone who pretends otherwise.
What matters to me is what happens after someone says, “I don’t know.”
There is a tremendous difference between:
“I don’t know.”
and:
“I don’t know, but I know how to find out.”
I have research tools. I have professional resources. I have technology at my fingertips that allows me to explore possibilities faster than ever before. I have years of experience across education, management, operations, and small business that help me recognize patterns and know where to start looking.
Sometimes my value isn’t walking into a conversation carrying the answer.
It’s knowing what question we should investigate next.
And I would argue that’s something worth looking for whenever you bring an advisor or consultant into your business. You don’t need someone who claims to be a walking encyclopedia. You need someone curious enough to keep asking questions, experienced enough to recognize what might be hiding underneath the obvious problem, and resourceful enough to say, “I don’t know that answer yet. Let’s find it.”
Maybe the first question isn't "What help do you need?"
My daughter’s answer has stuck with me because it was so simple.
“I don’t know.”
And she didn’t need me to make her feel bad for not knowing. She needed me to help her discover what her choices were.
Perhaps we need to give ourselves that same permission in business.
You don’t have to know exactly what’s wrong before you ask someone to look at it with you. You don’t have to research every possible solution before talking to an advisor. And you certainly don’t have to diagnose the entire problem before you’re “ready” for a strategy conversation.
Sometimes knowing “I want this to work differently” is enough to start.
The questions can come next.
And sometimes, with the right person sitting across from you, those questions are exactly how you finally discover the help you didn’t know you could ask for.