We love to talk about Big-I Innovation. You know the one. It’s the stuff of headlines and sci-fi dreams. It’s the loud, scary, exhilarating tidal wave of cognitive computing and VR storefronts and AI assistants that order 3D-printed pot brownies and pay for them in Bitcoin. It’s the kind of innovation that has us all feeling part exhilarated, part terrified, and mostly just trying to keep our heads above water. We’re so busy staring through a telescope at that distant, approaching wave that we completely miss the revolution happening right under our noses—the one you can only see with a magnifying glass.
This is the world of Little-i innovation. It isn’t about predictive analytics; it’s about personal perspective. It’s the small, incremental, cumulative shifts you make in yourself that ultimately lead to the biggest breakthroughs. As a Grammy Nominated Spoken Word Artist, I’ve built a career on the idea that the most profound change doesn’t come from a new technology, but from a new thought. My work in spoken word poetry has taught me that before you can disrupt an industry, you have to be willing to disrupt yourself. This is where you trade the fear of failure for the art of failing forward. You learn to wear your mistakes like proud battle scars, the kind of intellectual capital that proves you were brave enough to risk deeper, to pierce the skin without hitting an organ. You adopt a “yes, and…” mindset, not just as a technique, but as a way of being. Whatever the world throws at you—yes, and watch what I do with it. Whatever challenge comes for you—yes, and watch how I transform it. The most inspirational leaders, the ones often considered the world’s best, live in this space of radical adaptability.
So how do you practice Little-i innovation? You have to “mosaic yourself.” A Harvard Business Review study once found that when carpenters needed ideas for better respiratory masks, they got the most radical, game-changing solutions not from other carpenters, but from inline skaters. Why? Because the more distant the field, the more novel the ideas. Homogenous thinking leads to homogenous results. If you want to build a team that’s the chocolate and chipotle of your industry—a surprising, powerful, and unforgettable combination—you have to first become a mosaic of unexpected influences yourself. Go to the breakout session that has nothing to do with your job. Read the book from an industry you know nothing about. Take a peer from a completely different department to lunch and just listen. This is the work of a true Vanguard Artist of leadership. It’s the practice that makes you, a motivational poet of your own potential, see the world differently.
In the end, all those scary Big-I innovations are powerless without a culture of Little-i disruptors to fuel them. The shiniest rocket ship is just a lawn ornament without the spark that lights the fuse. The real work of a leading innovator isn’t just chasing the next big thing; it’s in the daily practice of becoming the next, better version of yourself. It’s about being brave enough to bring your whole humanity to the table—your curiosity, your vulnerability, and even your scars. Because, as Grammy Nominated Poet Sekou, this is the one truth I’ve seen on every stage: innovation is not the act of asking, “Why didn’t I think of that?” It’s the daily, personal, and courageous discipline of asking, “Why don’t I think like that?” The revolution doesn’t start in the boardroom. It starts in the mirror.
