Michael Jackson never needed an introduction. By the time This Is It was announced, the world understood exactly what it meant for him to return to the stage. Not a comeback…a resurrection of genius. A promise that the greatest showman alive was about to deliver something only he could imagine.

And then… it never happened.

June 25th, 2009 stopped the entire world. What we were left with was rehearsal footage — fragments of preparation — later shaped into a documentary aptly titled ”This is It”.

Within those fragments, I witnessed not just Michael’s brilliance… but Kenny Ortega’s leadership.

The Production That Never Reached Opening Night

“This Is It” was designed to be a 50-night concert residency in London. Ambitious, massive, musically and visually complex. The kind of production that demands military precision and spiritual surrender at the same time.

The team working behind the scenes wasn’t just talented — they were elite. And at the center of them stood Kenny Ortega: choreographer, director, architect of movement and moment.

Most people know him from Disney’s High School Musical, or Dirty Dancing, or even Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. But long before all of that, Ortega built his craft inside hard spaces — with artists who demanded nothing short of magic.

He’d worked with legends:

• Michael Jackson
• Madonna
• Cher
• Gloria Estefan
• Diana Ross

He was used to intensity.
He was used to vision.
He was used to pressure.

And yet, what he reveals in the documentary isn’t about technique or spectacle. It’s about emotional architecture.

The One Rule Michael Lived By

Kenny revealed in an August 3 2025 article – the biggest thing he learned from Michael Jackson. He recalls the way Michael would begin rehearsals:

Kenny, we can’t let fear into the room. Fear only gets in the way of creativity.

This wasn’t a throwaway line. Michael said it often. He meant it and he watched for it.

Think about that…

A man whose entire life was spent under public scrutiny, who carried the weight of expectation and controversy, who performed under pressures most humans can’t imagine — he was the one protecting the creative space from fear.

He knew that genius could not survive where fear lived. Not even his.

The Discipline Behind Protecting a Creative Room

It’s one thing to talk about keeping fear out of the room.
It’s another thing to watch what that looks like in real time.

In the documentary, there’s a small moment in rehearsal – just Michael, the band, Kenny, and the technical team.

They’re running a Jackson 5 medley, the energy is up, everyone is focused, and then Michael pauses.

He doesn’t snap.
He doesn’t roll his eyes.
He doesn’t shame anyone.

He simply tells them, gently but firmly, that he needs to say something.

He explains that when he’s trying to hear the mix through his in-ear monitors, it feels as if someone has jammed a fist into his ear. He’s not used to relying on inner monitors; he’s been raised on pure, natural sound. Now, instead of clean air and room acoustics, there’s this compressed, overwhelming presence in his head that makes it hard for him to hear properly.

He acknowledges that they mean well. He emphasises that he’s saying it with love. He’s not attacking… he’s reporting his reality.

And then Kenny steps in — not to defend the crew, not to gloss over Michael’s discomfort, but to make sure he’s truly heard.

He asks Michael to repeat himself so the sound team can catch every detail. He checks: “Is it the volume? The mix? Does something need to come down?” He immediately asks the team to lower the levels, then follows up: “Is there anything else you want to hear more of — your voice, something in the band?”

Michael says no. For now, just less.

And then Kenny does something subtle but powerful: he builds in a feedback loop.

He tells Michael that after the next song, if it still doesn’t feel right, he should say so. They’ll adjust again.

No drama.
No defensiveness.
No ego.

Just: This isn’t working for you yet. Let’s fix it. And if it’s still not right, tell us again.

The entire exchange lasts only a few moments, but the atmosphere never shifts into tension or blame. The respect in the room doesn’t fracture. In fact, it deepens.

Michael protects his instrument. Kenny protects the environment. Everyone else watches what real-time, high-level feedback looks and feels like.

What This Scene Reveals About Leadership and Fear

This is what “no fear in the room” looks like in practice:

• A global icon naming his discomfort without apologising for it.
• A director receiving that feedback without taking it personally.
• A team adjusting the conditions so the work — not the politics, not the power dynamics — can get better.

Most teams say they want honest feedback. But in many rooms, honesty comes at a cost.

People fear being labelled “difficult” or “ungrateful.” Leaders fear being seen as wrong, or not in control. So everyone quietly tolerates environments that don’t support their best work.

What struck me in that moment is how ordinary the respect felt. It wasn’t grand or performative. Michael didn’t have to raise his voice to be believed. Kenny didn’t have to assert his authority to keep things moving.

Instead:

• The star trusted the room enough to say, “This is hurting my ability to perform.”
• The leader trusted himself enough to say, “Thank you for telling us — let’s adjust and check back.”

That’s psychological safety. That’s alignment. That’s what allows “we can’t let fear into the room” to live as more than a slogan.

The Rooms We Lead… and the Rooms We Enter

Watching that exchange, I couldn’t help thinking about all the spaces where people are still performing with a metaphorical fist in their ear:

• Working with tools that don’t fit them.
• Operating inside processes that numb their instincts.
• Navigating dynamics where speaking up feels risky or pointless.

They keep going anyway — because “the show must go on.”

But what if the real leadership move is to pause the song, name what isn’t working, and adjust the environment… instead of pushing people to adapt to misalignment?

And what if the real test of a leader isn’t how well they give feedback…
but how safely they receive it?

Strategic Reflection Prompt

Where, in your own world, might someone be performing with a “fist in their ear” — quietly enduring an environment that makes it harder for them to give their best — and what would it look like for you to respond the way Kenny did: listen fully, adjust the conditions, and invite them to tell you if it’s still not right?

About Giselle

I’m Giselle Hudson — writer, possibility thinker, musician, Organization & People Development Sensemaker™, and MCODE Legacy Coach. I help leaders and soul-driven professionals decode the deeper patterns shaping their business, work, identities, and results especially when it look like a performance issue but it’s really misalignment in disguise.

If something in your life or business feels off and you can’t quite name it, message me. Sometimes one conversation is all it takes to see what’s really going on.