There is a lot of conversation right now about “hallucinations” in AI, the tendency of tools like ChatGPT to confidently generate information that isn’t accurate. It sounds like a new problem. In reality, it is as old as communication itself.

When I was 20 years old, I worked as a research assistant for a professor studying experiential learning. One of my assignments was to track down the earliest known mention of the metronome. I spent days in the library at the Royal Academy of Music in London, tracing references across dusty volumes.

What I found was fascinating and frustrating: a snake eating its own tail. Book after book cited an earlier one. That earlier one pointed to yet another. And when I finally reached the supposed “first” reference, there were no primary sources at all. Just hearsay. I wasn’t quite back at zero, but I was close.

That moment has stayed with me. Over the years, in research for work and for life, I have encountered the same thing again and again. The trail of information rarely leads to solid ground. It often loops back on itself.

So what is the lesson? I think it is this: misinformation is not an AI problem. It is a human problem. The tools may change, but the need for discernment remains the same.

Media literacy is not optional. Whether we are reading a 17th century book, a modern news article, or an AI generated summary, the responsibility is on us to ask the hard questions. Where did this come from? Is there a primary source? How can I confirm this?

AI did not invent misinformation. Perhaps it can remind us, urgently, that truth has always required effort.
What practices or habits help you stay grounded in reliable sources?

Why Do People Become Executive Assistants?

9/3/25

I owe this reflection to a few recent posts by Becky Kaapuni, who named something many of us feel but do not always say. The path into this profession often begins long before we take on the job title. For some, it starts in childhood. You learn to grow up too soon, to be hyper vigilant about the needs of others, and to smooth out situations before they turn into problems. Then before you know it, what once felt like coping mechanisms, over time, become the foundations of being a competent and successful EA.

The work itself also reinforces those instincts. You are trained to notice the smallest details, to manage competing demands, and to prioritize other people’s priorities. It can feel like second nature to live inside someone else’s calendar, inbox, and to-do list.

But there is another side to the story. Those tendencies are not only trauma responses; they can also be gifts that transmute into professional strengths. Hyper vigilance becomes foresight. People-pleasing transforms into diplomacy. Task-switching evolves into adaptability. The desire to create order in chaos becomes the scaffolding others around us rely on.

That is why, for all the challenges, I love what I do. For me, being an EA has never been about clerical work. It has always been about creating the systems that let others succeed.  All this to say, for me, this career is not an accident. It is the honest use of skills I have been developing and honing my whole life. That, friends, is what makes it feel like purpose.

The Challenge of Being Multi-Passionate

9/4/25

I have always thought of myself as an autodidact. Curiosity is my true north. I read both fiction and non-fiction across history, science, language, data, and policy. I subscribe to publications like The Economist, Foreign Policy, and The Atlantic. I spend my evenings listening to podcasts on emerging trends, and I take classes both online and in person on everything from foreign languages to peace and conflict resolution to SQL to project management. For me, learning is not optional. It is how I stay engaged and mission driven.

And yet, when I try to shift into fields where I know I would thrive, the feedback is often the same: you do not have the background we need.

It is a hard pill to swallow, because I know I bring the skills, the discipline, and the ability to learn quickly. Anyone who knows me can attest to that. But I do not come from a financially stable background. Graduate school or other “traditional” stepping stones were not always an option. So I built my education piece by piece, through books, courses, conversations, and lived experience.

Here is the tension I wrestle with. On one hand, I want my professional messaging to be clear and focused. On the other, it feels disingenuous to hide my personal interests and passions. I know that being multi-passionate is a strength. It means I can connect dots across disciplines, bring fresh insights, and adapt quickly. But I sometimes struggle with how to present that story in a way that resonates with hiring managers or decision-makers.

I wonder how others have made peace with this balance between authenticity and focus.