At the end of meetings or events, it’s normal to shake hands and smile about a good session. Obviously. We all do it.

But there’s one kind of handshake that shakes out just a bit differently.

It comes from leadership, and there’s something pressed into your palm during the grip. Something small and metallic that wasn’t there when the handshake started.

If you’ve ever worked with the military (or have been in it yourself), you might know what I mean.

You feel it immediately. The weight of it. The intentionality behind it.

They hold the handshake a beat longer than normal, making sure you register what they’ve placed there, then transition away to the next engagement on their long list of items.

The first time I had this happen, I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant. Only that a four-star general had just handed me something during what I thought was just a routine briefing/goodbye.

Inside my palm was a challenge coin.

Heavy bronze, with his insignia etched into it.

I wasn’t military, but had spent many years supporting military operations as an intel analyst. My work at that time was meaningful enough for him to give me this special recognition, and I was blown away.

Challenge Coins

Challenge coins are a military tradition. They date back to World War I.

One story goes that a wealthy pilot had bronze medallions made for his unit. When one pilot was shot down and captured, he used his coin to prove his identity to French allies who were about to execute him as a spy.

The coin saved his life.

Today, commanders, generals, officers, Chiefs, intelligence agencies, and even presidents hand them out, but not casually.

A coin should mean something. It should come with a story.

The tradition is simple but significant. Coins like this are earned, not asked for. Presented quietly, often during a handshake.

Four-star generals and admirals rarely give these out. Even active military personnel might never receive one from someone at that level.

I wasn't “supposed” to get one at all. I'm a civilian contractor who shows up, draws on walls, and leaves. But somehow, I'd made enough of an impression that generals and admirals felt compelled to recognize it.

That first coin taught me something important about the power of visual work, even in the most serious environments.

The Work You’ll Never See

The reality of working with the military is that most of what happens is classified, behind closed doors, for very good reasons.

The strategic planning sessions I draw for, the visual summaries I create - they stay in secure facilities or in offices most people never see.

They’re meant for specific audiences at specific moments, not public consumption.

It’s not showing up in any kind of gallery.

That first four-star coin came after helping leadership see connections between two military factions using visual storytelling.

These coins become the only public proof of invisible impact. They’re physical evidence that the work mattered.

When your most important work can’t be seen, recognition comes in different forms.

When Tough Crowds Take Notice

Now here comes a not-so-humble brag. My shelf has ten to twelve four-star coins.

These aren’t participation trophies. The military doesn’t hand those out. They’re practical. Logistical. Results-oriented. Literally on the defensive at every moment.

But the visual work solves real problems. Connects dots.

If visual storytelling can break through to the toughest crowds, what could it do for yours?

The same principles that create clarity in Pentagon briefing rooms work in corporate boardrooms.

The same techniques that help four-star generals and admirals see complex situations differently can help your team align around strategy.

Sketching in this forum isn't about making things prettier. It's about making complex ideas accessible, memorable, and actionable.

Even the most serious people appreciate clarity when they see it.

Your Pentagon Moment

Not everyone works with four-star generals and admirals, but everyone has resistant audiences and crowds.

Maybe yours is the skeptical board that’s heard every consultant pitch.

The engineering team that thinks visuals are “fluff.”

The client who only cares about bottom-line results.

These are the moments when visual storytelling proves its worth. When you can take complex ideas and make them immediately clear. When you can turn abstract strategy into something people can point to and understand.

What’s your invisible work that needs recognition?

The breakthrough insights that happen in closed-door meetings. The strategic clarity you create that never gets publicly shared. The moments when you help someone see something differently, in a small group or just the two of you.

Visual work creates lasting impact in serious environments because it cuts through complexity and connects with how people actually process information.

If it can work in the Pentagon, it can work anywhere.

The question isn’t whether your audience is too serious for visual thinking.

It’s whether you’re ready to be really vulnerable and give them the clarity they’ve been looking for.

And whether they’ll hand you a coin in return.

Grateful you are here

Wade

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