More people marched in protest the day after the inauguration than have ever marched before. Women and men around the world gathered in solidarity.
It’s empowering and exciting and exhausting.
It’s also frustrating. I ran into a friend walking her dog. When I asked what she thought of the Women’s March she said, “I have a lot of rage…at my fellow progressives.”
I was so sure she’d say “at Trump,” or about a certain issue, or even “at Trump supporters.” But her rage faces inward. I paused for a second, because I get it. I wonder the same things that she does – what more should I have done? And where were all these people four months ago?
For those of us out here trying to do good every day, it can feel like too much. I spent the first weeks after the election numb and tired. As the reality set in and the work of unraveling all kinds of social progress began, I was sick. Scared. Uncertain.
I know this for sure, and I know it in my bones: things have to change.
Change is messy and uncomfortable and uncertain. As I often tell my coaching and strategic planning clients – if doesn’t feel messy and difficult, then we aren’t doing it right. We aren’t really asking the tough questions, and we aren’t trying to name the elephant in the room. Change is supposed to be messy and scary.
And change, as Michael Jackson says, begins “with the (wo)man in the mirror.” I’m committed to taking a step back and examining more closely my own ‘why’. We have not time nor energy to spare. What cause is most important to you and what actions will have the most impact? In other words, can you dig deeper into what you are already doing and ask, is it the right thing? Is it enough? What do I need to change?
The beauty of the Internet – for all its challenges – is that we can hear other people’s opinions, and people’s responses to those opinions, and we can decide what we think for ourselves.
If you haven’t seen it, and you are curious, google #notmymarch. All I will say is, I don’t have time for Christie. I’ve spent too much of my life and career so far worried about Christie. Christie is not worried about me or the people that I care about or the equity that I believe in. Christie has a world of information at her fingertips and she chooses what to do with it.
I do have the time to keep checking my white privilege. Several people have also posted, and written, eloquently on the racism problem in feminism. (See bell hooks and this great list on Elle for a start – share more resources in the comments!) What does that have to do with the March? It was a peaceful protest, and while I support nonviolent actions, it’s important to unpack our pride at being ‘peaceful’ – recognizing the limitation of personal experience when it comes to political violence and what assumptions we make about how we will be treated. See Jahmelia Lindsay’s post on Facebook for more perspective.
At school last Friday, my daughter dressed as her role model: Hillary Clinton. When I asked her why she chose HRC, my kiddo taught me a lesson in leadership. She spoke eloquently of Hillary Clinton’s strength, that she kept going even when people said mean things, that she did what was right, and she tried to take care of people. My daughter is convinced that Hillary will get back up and keep fighting. There was nothing in her answer about the loss. It was all about the leadership.
Y’all – we can do this, and it’s going to take all of us.
One of the unspoken fears about succession planning is – what then? What happens when my team is functional, cross-trained and confident in their work? What happens when others hold the vision for the organization with me, when we can all see the flight patterns?
Executive Directors often find themselves in a similar role to air traffic controllers. Because so much rests on their shoulders, only they can really make the decisions about take-off’s and landings, which planes to ground and who gets permission to move out of line. It’s an exhausting job and without it, most organizations would experience some painful inefficiencies at best or worse, something catastrophic.
A solid succession plan helps alleviate the burden by distributing the responsibility throughout the organization. Staff are cross-trained beyond their day-to-day roles. Board members not only know there is a plan for emergencies but are equipped to face challenges that arise. Leadership staff and board members understand each other’s functions allowing confusion and conflict to give way to team work and creative problem solving.
Sounds great. But what’s the ED’s job in this utopia?
The former air traffic control tower in the developing Mueller neighborhood is a ripe metaphor. It is currently empty and frankly a little sad. No longer functional for its original purpose, boards cover some the windows where the distinctive blue glass is broken. Weeds are growing inside. Ideas have been suggested about what to do with it, but no decision seems to stick. It is the perfect image for the fear mentioned above.
If I’m a leader, and I no longer maintain and monitor the flight patterns for my organization, why am I here?
Step back. Look around.
Today, there is construction all around the tower. No longer surrounded by miles of concrete runway or dilapidated airport structures, homes are going up at a record pace. Families are thriving, playing, learning, and growing. People are becoming neighbors. Birds and lizards are claiming the park land. None of this could have been envisioned by the person so busy up in that tower, staring at the sky, following maps and making lists.
Air traffic control ensures the safety and efficiency of the now. But you are so much more than a tower and a view. As we learn to stop the glorification of busy and focus on what’s important, we become more capable and less burdened leaders. Once a leader stops managing air traffic, there’s a chance to step back and create the vision, right here on the ground.