My story with this ‘Leadership’ thing

Recently I was receiving feedback on a personality tool and had an insight I really didn’t see coming.

My ‘Taking Charge’ result is around 30% which is relatively low. Well, I know that I don’t really have this urge to take the lead in group situations. But when I feel responsible for an outcome and see that the group is not organising around it, I do tend to take charge. At home and in my life in general I also tend to be ultra proactive and take charge (my partner would probably complain about it when it gets too intense!).

When I feel it’s needed, I tend to do it. Otherwise, my tendency is to operate as part of the group, collaboratively. During the feedback session with my coach, a lot of memories started to come up about my relationship with this thing called ‘leadership’. I was able to articulate a new story about myself & leadership.

My father was an entrepreneur, that started his company whilst young and worked really hard throughout his whole life. He died of cancer about 18 years ago. He was a workaholic. He did very little outside of work. He embodied a strong energy of ‘striving’, of determination, dedication and power. He was also an autocratic leader, feared by his employees. It’s funny how they also admired and cared for him somehow. A little story about that care is below.

There was a cherry tree outside of my father’s office. He jumped to grab some cherries and twisted his ankle really bad. As expected, he didn’t go to the doctor. A few employees stopped working to help him. They put all kinds of things in his foot. They wrapped his foot in gauze, brought ice, added some vinegar (?), salt (??) and a variety of herbs. When he got home, with a hugely swollen foot, I remember laughing and thinking it looked like his foot was ready to be cooked after such a long time marinating and soaking the seasoning. :)

Back to me. The story I tell myself about why I chose my career in working with leaders is that I wanted to create another reality where leaders (my father) didn’t need to be feared. Where someone like my father could have been more like himself — an incredibly loving human being with his children, that loved nature and was so emotional and sensitive. This persona of a hero or tough leader he thought he had to embrace wasn’t really him and made his life quite miserable in many ways. If anything, it led him to a lifestyle where he developed a terminal illness.

However, during my coaching conversation, another story was coming up for me. I was recalling my experience as a leader, since school. I was the class leader, for many years. I was the orator in both our graduation ceremonies (from basic and secondary school). The father of one of my friends saw me as the leader of our group of friends — I felt quite responsible for my actions after I heard that. During school, the drive to take leadership came naturally to me — it wasn’t connected with a sense of power, it felt like the natural place to step into.

When I got to my undergrad I really didn’t want to be the leader anymore. Again, it came naturally, this lack of interest or drive, there were plenty of people doing it well. By the time I was doing my masters, my connection with this concept of Leadership flipped from lack of interest to strong aversion. The discipline I liked the least.

It turned out that my passion was in how to develop organisations as a whole, how to engage people in self-discovery, how to transform the lives of people at work. I became obsessed with the construct and the meaning of work in our lives, and how it builds us as human beings.

How funny that all this passion meant I ended up working with leaders. Suddenly I realised that all I did at work was having conversations to develop people (mostly leaders).

Back to my coaching conversation.

The insight was — I don’t really care about leadership. Shocking for someone that works with leadership development.

Let me explain. I don’t care about the heroic, person or role-based view of leadership. This is an outdated construct that’s elitist and individualistic.

‘Leadership is a collective process, spread through networks of people (…). The question has changed from, “Who are the leaders?” to “What conditions do we need for leadership to flourish in the network?”’ (Nick, P. CCL).

We are all leaders. We lead our lives, we are constantly making decisions about how we interact with others, how we go about problems, how we overcome hurdles. Living life is a leadership endeavour. Some people, however, struggle to take on that role (and there are many reasons for that).

Nevertheless life, sooner or later asks of us that we take responsibility and that is how leadership is born. I could go on and on about several leadership models, but I won’t because it’s simpler than that. It starts with seeing ourselves as the ones that are responsible for making decisions, realising that our decisions matter — those realisations hold so much power.

Speaking for myself, I take responsibility for how I help create work environments that are more inclusive, humanised, creative and life-affirming. Of course, it starts with me: how I manage my work and non-work time; how do I acknowledge I have a body that is not made to stay in front of a computer screen for 8 hours a day; how do I recognise emotions in me and how they are driving every decision of my day; how do I transform my habit energies around scarcity, greed and individualism into abundance, optimism and joy. The list is long, but I care so much that I’m happy to take responsibility for it.

What are the areas of your life you feel a strong sense of responsibility towards? How are you taking care of your role as a leader there?

Reference:

• Petrie, N. Future Trends in Leadership Development, CCL, 2014