The first time I attended a major award show, something clicked immediately. And after attending the MTV Video Music Awards, Golden Globes, Grammys, BET Awards and ESPYs, that understanding has only sharpened. (Disclosure: I am a Recording Academy voting member for the Grammys.)
These environments may look glamorous from the outside, but once you’re actually inside, surrounded by people who shape culture, you begin to see how influence really works—who moves with confidence, who blends in, who people gravitate toward and who people avoid.
What these events taught me has nothing to do with celebrity. It has everything to do with human behavior, leadership and the invisible rules of credibility that apply to every industry, whether you ever step on a red carpet or not.
People decide how to treat you before you say a word.
At award shows, people often recognize your name or your work before you even make eye contact. I’ve seen executives walk up knowing someone’s entire résumé because someone else whispered it to them in the car on the way over.
I once had someone greet me by referencing a project of mine that I didn’t even think they knew about. These rooms run on information—and everyone gets Googled or discussed before they arrive.
What I learned is this: Your reputation walks into the room 20 minutes before you do.
Your digital footprint, your behavior on past projects, the way you treat people—it travels ahead of you.
Influence looks very different up close.
At these events, the person with the most camera attention is rarely the person with the most real power. The ones quietly moving things behind the scenes—the managers, the producers, the strategists—are often the ones other people pull aside for real conversations.
At the ESPYs, I’ve noticed athletes who are global superstars still turn toward the same few advisors and leaders whose credibility is consistent year after year. Those are the people everyone trusts.
It taught me that influence does not mean being the loudest person in the room—it means being the person the room checks in with.
The real opportunities happen in the spaces no one photographs.
The biggest decisions don’t often happen at the step-and-repeat. They happen in the hallways while waiting for a presenter cue, backstage during a tech reset or at a small cocktail table while someone’s team is coordinating their exit.
At one event, I watched a collaboration between two major artists come together in a matter of three minutes while the rest of the room was focused on the performance. No cameras. No announcement. Just two people with aligned visions having an unplanned moment of clarity.
These quiet pockets of time taught me that leaders can succeed when they are prepared for spontaneous conversations that could change everything.
People gravitate to energy, not titles.
I’ve seen people with massive followings get ignored because their energy felt off—nervous, competitive or disconnected.
And I’ve seen someone with no ego but incredible presence get invited into a private conversation simply because they felt grounded, kind and confident.
I once saw a major athlete invite someone he met two minutes prior to join his group for the night because, in his words, “She feels like someone we want around.”
It wasn’t about status. It was about presence.
Leadership is felt long before it’s proven.
Your behavior in one room follows you into every future room.
After going to multiple award shows in the same year, you start seeing the same people over and over—publicists, executives, stylists, artists, reps, producers. And people talk.
Who is dependable.
Who causes chaos.
Who is respectful.
Who is impossible to work with.
Who treats assistants well.
Who burns bridges quietly.
I once overheard someone deciding not to work with a brand because of a story someone from another award show told them the week before.
It hit me that your reputation circulates through these environments faster than your highlight reel does. Consistency becomes a leadership strategy—and a protective shield.
Confidence without preparation can make you invisible.
The people who stand out at these events aren’t always the most glamorous. Often, they’re the most prepared.
The best conversations happen when you already know who you’re talking to, what they’re working on and why the interaction matters in a bigger picture.
The people who look the most natural on the carpet are often the ones who rehearsed their talking points and understood the tone of the night.
Preparation creates calm. Calm creates presence.
Presence creates memorability.
Leadership is revealed when status is neutralized.
In these settings, I’ve found industry titles matter far less than people might think. Everyone is dressed up. Everyone has accomplishments. Everyone knows someone. What separates true leaders is the way they treat others, the way they move through chaos and the way they carry their narrative.
High-profile events strip away all the layers people hide behind. They show you who listens, who panics, who respects the room, who holds space for others, who commands attention quietly and who creates comfort for the people around them.
The spotlight doesn’t create character—it exposes it.
And that is the most important leadership lesson these environments have taught me.