When my 13-year-old son repeatedly called a girl ugly, I worried I failed as a parent. I needed to teach him the power of words.

• My son's principal told me he called a girl ugly on several occasions.
• As a mother and leadership coach, I worried I failed my son.
• Instead of judging him and myself, I taught him the power of words.

"Your son has been calling a girl ugly — repeatedly."

I froze. My stomach dropped. The words from the school principal felt surreal. My 13-year-old had called someone ugly. And not just once, but repeatedly?

I was shocked, but more than that, I was terrified. I felt like a failure.

I'm a leadership coach. I work with executives on empathy, accountability, and understanding, yet here I was, faced with the reality that I might have failed my own child.

The questions swirled. How did this happen? Did I not teach him better than this? Where did I go wrong?

At that moment, something clicked: leadership principles aren't just for the boardroom; they're for everyday life. Parenting is leadership, too. I had to approach this challenge with the same mindset I used to guide executives.

I decided not to judge my son, so I asked him questions instead

At first, my emotions boiled over. I wanted to tell my son how disappointed I was and to remind him of all the lessons we've discussed: kindness, respect, empathy. But I knew that simply reacting emotionally wouldn't help him grow.

Effective leaders don't react with anger or judgment. Instead, they choose a path of inquiry and growth. It's about creating a space where accountability happens without shame.

So, instead of scolding him, I asked him questions like: "Why do you think that happened?" and "What do you think the impact was?"

My son's answer surprised me. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone on purpose. "I was just trying to be funny," he said. "I wanted to fit in with my friends."

This moment hit me hard. I realized that he wasn't trying to be cruel; he was trying to make his friends laugh, to impress them.

When I took a step back to collect myself, a memory surfaced: I called a girl ugly in the eighth grade. I hadn't thought about that moment in years, but there it was — sharp, vivid, and undeniable. I didn't say it because I believed it. I said it to fit in, to feel better about myself, and to cave to the pressure around me.

Instead of scolding, I told him about the time I called a girl ugly. I used my vulnerability to help him see that everyone makes mistakes. This wasn't about labeling him a bad person but about helping him understand the harm in his actions.

"I know you're not a mean person," I said gently, "but you did a mean thing."

This conversation was about making him think, making him feel what the other person felt. I wanted him to understand the power of his words and begin to reflect on how to repair the situation.

I then encouraged my son to apologize — not just with words, but with sincerity. We practiced it together. I asked him to think about how the girl might have felt and what she might have been thinking when he said those words.

My son learned his lesson once he apologized

When the time came, his apology was heartfelt. But the girl's response was even more powerful.

"I'm OK with jokes," she said, "but I'm not OK when they're about my body or my looks."

It was a moment of leadership — on her part, on his part, and on mine.

At that moment, I felt something shift in my son. He understood that words have power — not just in the moment they're spoken, but in their lasting impact on someone's self-worth.

I've been a leadership coach long enough to know that people don't always behave as expected. Sometimes, good people do bad things, and even the most well-intentioned individuals make mistakes.

It's easy to react with judgment, to label someone's behavior as unforgivable. But true leadership is about offering grace and space for growth.

The key to this experience was replacing judgment with curiosity

When I first heard what my son had done, my first instinct was to judge him harshly. But judgment doesn't foster growth; it stifles it.

By embracing curiosity, I was able to ask the right questions — questions that led to reflection rather than defensiveness. By doing so, we had a real conversation about empathy, self-awareness, and becoming a better person.

This experience reminded me that we parents are not raising our children to avoid mistakes. We're raising them to learn from those mistakes and grow our understanding of ourselves and others.

Parenting is no different from leadership. The same principles we use to guide executives, employees, and teams can — and should — be applied to how we raise our children. By embracing curiosity, modeling accountability, and leading with compassion, we teach not just by our words but by our actions.