My name is Jay Olivo. I grew up in Lindenhurst, got my first job at seventeen, and I've been working ever since — not in an office with my name on the door, but on the floor, where the machines run hot and the coffee runs cold.
A 501(c)(3) nonprofit that grows leaders — starting young — built by a guy who learned it all the hard way.
My name is Jay Olivo. I grew up in Lindenhurst, got my first job at seventeen, and I've been working ever since — not in an office with my name on the door, but on the floor, where the machines run hot and the coffee runs cold.
The short version
I spent forty years in manufacturing and maintenance — Coca-Cola, Estée Lauder, AmerisourceBergen, and today Oerlikon, where I'm an Engineering and Reliability Manager. That's a long way of saying I keep things running, and I fix them when they don't. So here's the fair question: what's a maintenance guy doing teaching leadership?
Here's what I learned changing bearings and chasing breakdowns for four decades. The equipment almost never failed on its own. Behind every big failure was a person who wasn't heard, a shortcut nobody questioned, or a team that never learned to trust each other. Machines are honest. People are complicated. And nobody ever hands you a manual for the people part.
I got tired of watching good folks — smart, hard-working, decent people — get stuck. Not because they lacked talent, but because nobody ever taught them how to lead themselves first. So I went and learned it. I became a Certified Maintenance and Reliability Professional. I trained as a John Maxwell Executive Coach and a DISC consultant. I wrote a book, Leadership Between the Lines, about the stuff that never makes it into the job description. (That's me in the photo with John Maxwell. Still can't believe it either.) Then I did the thing you're supposed to do when you finally figure something out. I gave it away.
Leadership TeamBuilder exists to grow leaders — starting young. Our flagship is a three-year journey we call iChoose, iDo, iLead: year one a young person learns to make better choices, year two they put those choices into action, year three they lead others. It's not a lecture. It's a path you walk.
Alongside the youth program, we run a free personal-growth workshop every Wednesday night and free Lunch & Learn sessions for groups who want to grow together. Free means free. No catch, no upsell, no "but first give us your credit card." A nonprofit that only helps people who can pay isn't much of a nonprofit.
Because nobody leads alone. The best leader I ever worked for couldn't turn a wrench to save his life — but he could build a team that could do anything. He knew everybody's name, everybody's kids' names, and exactly when to get out of the way. That's the kind of leader we're trying to grow. Not the loudest person in the room. The one who makes the whole room better.
My theme song, if I had one, would be "My Hero" by the Foo Fighters. Not because I want to be a hero — because the song gets it right. Heroes are ordinary people who show up. No cape. No superpowers. They just keep showing up for the people counting on them. That's leadership. That's the whole thing.
What we're built on
Lead with heart, because people can always tell when you don't.
Keep your humor, because the work is hard and laughing beats quitting.
Actually help — because that's the only reason any of this is worth doing.
Come to a free workshop, bring iLead to a young person you know, or help fund a student. Whatever fits.