In CPE, I was shocked when our supervisor looked at me during a group supervision and said that I was exercising my leadership in the group. I hadn't thought about doing that, nor had it been one of my goals. I actually had trouble seeing what she meant until she (and the rest of the group) pointed out that I was the one who started daily Noonday prayer for our cohort and invited everyone to join in, I was the one who suggested that we go out for drinks after Super(vision) Tuesdays, I was the one making sure we ate lunches together. Those things seemed like common sense to me. Even deeper, I was doing those things because I wanted and needed the community support. I'm afraid of being lonely. But while I was thinking about making sure my own needs were being met, others were seeing me exercise leadership.
My friend Otis hammered away at me, over and over, that more than anything else I needed to work on my own sense of "inner authority." I got frustrated with him at the time, and still bristle a little bit thinking about it. I'd rather work behind the scenes, most of the time, on important things. I'm afraid of public failure. I'm more comfortable tweaking and adjusting other people's ideas than creating the vision. I'm happy to pursue goals that someone else has set rather than dream up my own. It happened a lot in Episcopal Evangelism Network meetings; I was often quiet for much of the meeting, while conversation and different opinions escalated and divisions threatened to slow our meetings to a halt. When anger started to appear in the room, I would simply raise my hand and wait for someone to call on me. I'm afraid, usually, of direct conflict. I'm working on it. But patiently waiting for the group to allow me to speak, waiting to make sure my own voice would be heard, others were seeing me exercise leadership.
An ancient Roman legend tells the story of Rome beset by her enemies, besieged within her own walls, facing certain defeat from the barbarian horde. And a lonely farmer, Cincinnatus, came to the head of the military and led the Roman army to victory and the city to a new peace. When he did, he eschewed power and returned to his farm.
In an effort to meet my own needs as an EC (Special Education) teacher, I'm exercising leadership again. Only this time, I recognize it. I'm putting my own personality, perspective and time into fixing a problem that has been systemic and pervasive and persistent within Teach For America: the lack of training that EC Corps Members have received before reaching the classroom. I pitched the idea to an ENC big-wig, and a friend joined up with me and we're writing out own plan for training materials. We're hoping to write our first presentation on the basics of Individualized Education Plans next week. We've sent out our ideas to other EC CMs, and they have given us great feedback and been really excited that we've initiated things.
I have to confess: I like having the control. I freaked out a little bit (internally) when a document I had created circulated without me knowing it. I got feedback as a result from people I didn't know personally, which was extremely helpful. I'm afraid that someone else could do it better than I could. Scratch that; I know there are several people who could do it much better than I could.
But I'm exercising leadership. I'm finding my own sense of inner authority, at least a little bit. And I like it.
I'm trying to hold the reins loosely, to collaborate, to welcome other voices and follow different directions. I'm making sure I'm not the only one working on this and that I have a partner at all times... which is good, because the friend I am working with is much more practical about actionable steps than I am. I need that. I'm learning about new ways of exercising leadership.
But I can't help wondering, as I enjoy this semi-public position of leadership that I know I am exercising: should I, like Cincinnatus, avoid seeking out this leadership and power? How will I know when the job that I initiated is done?
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