This is cross-posted from another blog I write for, a company blog called “Wish You Worked Here.”

Embarrassing fact about me: I’ve never learned how to swim.

However, I did watch my sister take swimming classes. And on day 1 of the class at the Grand Ashok Hotel in Bangalore, India, the instructor told her to either jump into the deep end or  he’d push her in.

She jumped.

A few seconds later, her head bobbed up. Within a week, she was a great swimmer.

The lesson I learned from this (aside from good God, that instructor was scary), is this: the quickest way to get over your fear of something is to do the most scary bit first. Jump into the deep end, survive it and thrive.

That’s pretty much how I started out at NSCS. In my first week, when I was mere weeks out of college, my supervisor told me to write talking points for the Chair of the Board of Directors to use at our upcoming Convention. And while I was at it, could I draft a letter for us to send to the Deputy Mayor of New York City, and  work on an e-newsletter to send to 150,000 of our members?

The thought of any one of these things terrified me by itself. The most important person I had written to before then was probably the admissions counselor for my university application. I had never e-mailed 150,000 people before. What if I screwed up this e-mail and embarrassed the organization through my screwup? Also-writing talking points for the Board Chair? What if I wrote something really terrible? Would that make me look bad? Would my boss hate it and me?

In any case, I wrote all those things because I had to. I got edited on them fairly heavily. I sent out the newsletter. I drafted the letter for the Mayor. And it all turned out ok, if not great.

Within a few weeks, my boss was back again– this time she wanted me to review invitations we send to prospective members. Another terrifying thought. Should I really be the last person to check on a letter we send to thousands of college student ? I remember being so terrified that I almost cried (Ok, I’m lying about the ‘almost’ bit. I did cry in the restroom. But I held it together in the office, because I’m professional like that). And that’s how I learned to proofread.

The funny thing is- within my first few months,  I stopped being afraid. Every new thing just seemed like another challenge I could master, control and learn.

Today, a mere four years later, I’ve gone from entry-level coordinator to director, marketing and PR. And everything that terrified me then are things I have since mastered and now love. None of that would have been possible without those initial experiences.

I still apply that concept with every new person I hire. I always give them the one project that stumped me.  Right now, the newest person on my team is tackling one of the thorniest challenges we have: data integrity, i.e.  how do you get your undergraduate student members to update their e-mail address when they graduate or update their major so that we can send them major-relevant jobs or internships?  At first she was intimidated. Now she has a plan, a combination of her thoughts and mine, outside input and inside ideas. But she brings a fresh perspective. And I can tell from my discussions with her that she feels energized, overwhelmed and excited. It’s that perfect mix that gives you a sense of ownership and relevance.

I’m not the only person at NSCS who has experienced this or encouraged this with my team. I’ve noticed this pattern in every department and at every level. Showing people that they are capable of more than they can think they can  do, and then endowing them with the sense of ownership to run with a big project helps them grow, learn and thrive. I’m just one example of that.