Resilience is a skill, and it's also an example.

A kid called Fernando Mendoza recently reached one of the rarest moments in sport.

Earlier this week, he was selected #1 overall pick in the NFL Draft by the Las Vegas Raiders. For most young athletes, that moment is the pinnacle. It happens under bright lights, on a big stage, surrounded by cameras, and the watching world. But Mendoza chose something different. He stayed home in Florida, surrounded by his family.

And the reason he was home is because he wanted to be beside the most important person in his life: his mum, Elsa.

Elsa Mendoza has lived with multiple sclerosis for years. Fernando has described her as one of his greatest inspirations, and his family has since become active in raising awareness and support for MS through the Mendoza Family Fund.

It was a pretty special image on draft night.

When Fernando’s name was called, the room exploded. People around him jumped up. Arms engulfed him. The dream had arrived. But the emotional centre of the room was his mother, seated beside him, watching her son step into the next chapter of his life.

And then there was his father. From the clips circulating, one of the details I noticed is that Fernando’s dad did not immediately leap up to hug him. He stayed seated beside Elsa as a sign of respect. If she couldn’t stand for the moment, neither would he.

That tiny gesture might not look like much, but it tells a big story about values. It’s a momentary insight into how we choose to do the little things. And it’s also an example of how Fernando had been studying resilience at home for a long time.

What’s cool about Mendoza’s story is that the football part feels almost secondary. I mean, being drafted first is extraordinary and it represents years of work, sacrifice, discipline, and self-belief. But the deeper story that I’m drawn to is not really about his football. It’s about where his mindset and approach to life comes from.

I’m sure a lot of that approach to life comes from watching his mother live with multiple sclerosis. His family has had to learn how to carry difficulty together, which means he’s seen strength all around him for years.

And that matters. Because we often talk about resilience as skill. Something we can develop ourselves. Something we build through challenges, grit, endurance, or relentless self-belief. But resilience is also something we learn from others.

We learn it by watching someone keep going when life gets unfair. We learn it from the parent who doesn’t complain, the colleague who remains calm when everyone else is spiraling, the leader who carries pressure without passing panic down to the team.

And while resilience is a skill, it’s also so often an example.

This is a powerful idea for modern work because, whether we’re a leader or not, we’re always modelling something. Those around us see how we respond to stress. Our colleagues notice how we handle disappointment. Our families feel how we carry pressure home with us. We’re teaching people what pressure should look like, even when we aren’t trying to teach anything at all.

And I’m not suggesting we need to always try and be perfect. It just means that we need to try and demonstrate our values when we can. Sometimes that looks like staying seated beside someone who cannot stand. Sometimes it looks like staying solutions focused in a meeting when everyone else wants to complain.

Either way, that’s how we can build (and demonstrate) our resilience.

Whether we’re building or modeling resilience, here are a few tools to help us find that way forward.

1. Find our teacher.

   Think of someone who has shown us what resilience looks like. Someone who carried something hard with grace and who has taught us, through their actions, what strength can really look like. Before a difficult meeting, a hard conversation, or a stressful week, bring that person to mind and ask how they might approach the moment. We’re just trying to borrow a little of their steadiness.

2. A “right now” question.

   When someone around us is struggling, we might try to resist the urge to immediately solve their issues. Instead, I love a question that asks what they think they need at this very moment: “what do you need right now: space, support, or solutions?”. It’s a small question, but it creates a lot of safe space. Space allows for trust, support allows for assistance, and solution suggests collaboration or advice. The key is not assuming which one they need. And this question also prompts us to start seeing solutions rather than focusing on the setbacks.

3. Bring people with us.

   Mendoza’s draft moment feels extra meaningful because he chose to celebrate his success with the people who shaped it. He could have chosen the stage, the lights, and the big public moment. Instead, he chose home. In our own lives, ambition can become lonely if we’re not careful. We chase the next client, promotion, launch, opportunity, or milestone, and forget to ask who we want to carry with us. It’s a powerful question that I ask myself, especially in moments of nervousness or self-doubt: Who is this for, besides me? That one question can reconnect effort to meaning.

4. Choose the values moment.

   Pressure has a way of narrowing our vision. We start thinking only about the result. Did we win? Did we close the client? But resilience is also measured by how we behave inside the pressure. Mendoza’s draft night was a clear values moment. Family over spectacle. Meaning over optics. We’re all going to face smaller versions of that choice. Do we protect our energy or burn ourselves out? Do we tell the truth or keep the peace? This is something we try and teach kids in our Little League baseball games. We ask them what would make them proud of how they played the game, even if victory us uncertain? It gets them thinking about how they should act before the game begins.

5. Turn pain into contribution (when it’s time).

   Not every hard thing needs to become a lesson right away. Some things just hurt. Some seasons need to be survived before they can be understood. But over time, resilience can turn pain into service. The Mendoza family’s advocacy for MS is a reminder that the things we carry can sometimes become bridges for others. In the workplace, that might mean mentoring someone through a challenge we once faced. Sharing a failure story so someone else feels less worried.

Anyone who is drafted 1st has immense pressure heaped on them. But Mendoza has demonstrated his strength and resilience many times over. I haven’t even shared the story of how he was flat-out rejected by 100 colleges and eventually picked as a 3rd tier quarterback. How almost everyone doubted him and he had to fight his way up to the moment of leading his team.

It’s clear that his strength has roots that run deep. And I think it comes from a mother who kept going, a father who stayed beside her, and family values that understood celebration and struggle can exist in the same room.

That is resilience.

Until next time friends, stay resilient.

Carré at Resilient MInds