Opportunity

I’ve been taking an Arts and Stage Management course during this semester, taught by Dr. Erickson of the theatre department, and Tommy Wedge, who is a graduate student from South Dakota State University temporarily working with SVSU. Tommy and I worked together as on Hedda Gabler last winter – I was the stage manager and he was the dramaturg – and we have consistently kept in touch since, discussing our work in the theatre department and my work as a stage manager.

A week or so ago, Tommy asked me to stage manage his upcoming winter show, The Road to Mecca, and I’d told him I would need to work out my schedule and get back to him. He asked again after class today, voicing how excited he was to have the opportunity to work with me again as a stage manager.

I spoke with Dr. Erickson today, and we agreed that I should definitely take up Tommy’s offer, which would create the basis and coursework for an independent study on Advanced Problems in Stage Management. Dr. Erickson continued, saying that working on this show would benefit not only me, but Tommy as well.

I discussed in a previous entry that I was missing a way to measure my achievements and abilities in the SVSU theatre department. Although working on shows builds experience, it does not always offer the same benefits as an actual class would. As they are not stage managers themselves, the SVSU directors are often satisfied as long as work gets done in the end, rather than focusing on learning a professional process of stage management. If a task is incomplete, directors would complete it themselves before noting it as a flaw of the stage manager. Therefore feedback I receive from them does not always help me to analyze and improve my approach to stage management. It is encouraging to know that they are not dissatisfied , but I also know that I am in no way perfect and have a lot of learning left to do.

Tommy, on the other hand, has worked as a stage manager in addition to his directing experiences. He is interested in the field, hence his work with our Arts and Stage Management course. As I work with Tommy, we would be trading experiences and feedback from stage manager to stage manager: the type of feedback and guidance that I’ve been searching for this entire semester. I know that working with Tommy will allow the open dialogue and learning that I desire as a stage manager – not necessarily recognition, but advice and encouragement that will help me to grow and improve as a stage manager, as well as build confidence in the skills I have already developed.

The development of this opportunity has been a sort of light at the end of the tunnel, as cliché as that is; a sign that I can, in fact, win every once in a while. I can’t wait to get my script and start working…

Realization

Following my appointment to discuss my journals and the seminar to date, I had a few important thoughts.

We discussed my need for recognition and attention, and my desire to suppress that need. And we discussed the certain lofty level on which I hold the idea of “leadership.” I think they are very much connected.

I placed leadership on a pedestal because of the Roberts Fellows. I never really thought I was a leader, or that I could handle being a leader, until I started contemplating my application to the program. Once I was accepted, I felt required to lead – like if I didn’t, I wasn’t living up to what Donna Roberts hoped for us as Fellows, or what the selection committee saw in us. That is why I struggled so much with the first chapter: stage management is not leadership – it is facilitation, structure, management. I felt that I was somehow not fulfilling my “duty” to the program. I felt that I had to find “leadership” in everything that I did in order to meet the expectations of the program.

Initially, I was searching for something against which I could measure my potential or my abilities – something I’d been missing in my theatre classes. Of course the professors give you grades in your class work or attempt to guide you through time at SVSU, but I didn’t feel challenged or “attended to,” for lack of a better phrase. I didn’t feel that I could go to a professor and receive pure, honest feedback as to where I was at in my development as a stage manager. That is why I craved recognition so much. It wasn't that I needed the compliment – but I had nothing to measure myself against. I do hours upon hours of work, but still have no idea where I stand on my path to becoming a professional stage manager. Acceptance to the Roberts Fellows was something that could act like a “check point” or proof that “I still had it.” It was something that could measure achievement and then push me to achieve more. The title of being a Roberts Fellow was something very lofty in my mind and with that, leadership became very lofty as well.

Perhaps I was missing the point, but I think I understand it better now. It’s perhaps not about achieving more, but about discovering more. The point is to discover the ability to reach ones highest potential. The point is to open avenues to success, whatever that success may be to each individual person. By actively pursuing my dreams and goals, succeeding in them, and becoming successful in my chosen path, I am fulfilling my expectation, both of myself and of the program.  Maybe I am building a path towards leadership; maybe I am opening a door to mentorship of those around me; maybe I am simply focusing on myself – my own achievement and happiness – while letting the rest fall in to place. In the end, I think that is something greater than the lofty idea of leadership that I had initially acquired. 

When Leadership Pays Off

 “Leadership is an affair of the heart: Highest performing leaders demonstrate affection and caring for their followers. Great leaders also love their work.” --Jim Kouzes and Barry Ponser’s “The Truth about Leadership” as presented by Terry Riedinger.

Incorruptible opened today.

I was so nervous and unconfident when I woke up this morning that I almost threw up. I’ve never been so nervous for an opening. It wasn’t that I didn’t think my team was prepared – I didn’t feel that I was prepared. I didn’t feel that I could handle running the show.

But worrying about it and telling myself I wouldn’t be able to do it wasn’t getting me anywhere.

So I took the afternoon to relax, review, my cues, and let my stress go.

And it worked.

Call was at 6:30pm. Dave had added a few sound cues to cover transitions, so I got my light and sound operators together to run through them. When I was confident and they were comfortable with the changes, we moved to fight call. The actors ran through their fights successfully.

House opened at 7:00pm.

There was such a rush at the box office that we had to hold the house for almost fifteen minutes.

The audience was incredible – they loved the show. They laughed at the jokes and even cheered for Jack’s pitiful jester’s routine.

By the time the show was over, I had no doubt that we had created the best show we could create.

I am so incredibly proud of my cast and my crew – all of their hard work and dedication paid off in the end. All of my stress and long hours were worth it and I wouldn’t change it for the world. That feeling of pure joy and pride in what we accomplished as a production team is why I love my job. Knowing that I was able to facilitate the success of my cast and crew is one of the greatest feelings in the world. Moments like that are all I need to feel fulfilled and successful.

On Stress and Coping: Knowing What You Can Change…And Acting On It.

“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; Taking…this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; Trusting that…all things [will be made] right if I surrender to [fate]; That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy…forever in the next. Amen.”

 --Reinhold Niebuhr, the Serenity Prayer

“May today there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content knowing that you are a child of the earth. Let this presence settle into your bones and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.” -- St. Theresa’s Prayer

It seems strange that a non-religious, never-been-alcoholic college kid might chose these two verses to focus on, but this week was extremely hard; harder than normal, and I was in need of a mantra.

It was as if every group was relying on my time in order to complete their tasks; every group expected to be my top priority.

I am only one person, and I only have so much time. I cannot do or be a part of everything, no matter how hard I try. This week, I had no choice but to accept that fact.

But how do I make everyone else accept that, too? As a leader, if I cannot give my teams what they need to be successful, I have failed them. Or at least that’s how it seems.

This in mind, how does a leader decide where to first focus attention? The very people who tried to remind me that I couldn’t do everything also expected that the one thing I would choose would be their cause. How does a leader decide which is the actual priority?

Roberts Fellows – I am expected to read and reflect to prepare for a 3 hour intensive discussion class, plus a service project requiring organization, brainstorming, marketing, and time to meet and discuss. If I do not follow through with my commitments to the Roberts Fellows, I am letting myself down a long with every person in the class, every instructor, and Donna Roberts herself.

Incorruptible -  My time was required perfect sound for an inexperienced sound designer, lights for a designer with far too many commitments, props for a designer who didn’t care enough about the show, paperwork to keep everyone informed, and rehearsals to run, track and organize. When I don’t complete my job, other people don’t complete their jobs either.

Class – attendance, participation, plus extra time for reading, homework, and projects. If I don’t succeed and do well, I lose the scholarships and opportunities that brought me to Saginaw Valley. Study abroad opportunities – requiring fundraising, writing for scholarships, and time for communication. Work – called in because the other employees are overbooked, needing my expertise for technical theatre.

I spent a week scraping by with the time that I had and the unmanageable work load. I spent a week barely eating, barely sleeping. I spent a week without leisure time, without human connections – simply half hearted attempts to work and be productive. I spent a week stressed, starving, dehydrated, and on the verge of tears. Now how is that any way for a leader, or a person in general, to live and work and be successful?

It’s true that I cannot do everything. It’s true that I can’t lead, live, or succeed on my own. It’s true that I need to focus in on what is immediately requiring my attention. It’s true that worrying and stressing about the demands of my life does not help solve or accomplish anything. All of these things are true. But it is also true that my simple recognition of these truths accomplishes nothing.

Either I need to change the expectations that I am held to or I need to change the way that I live up to these expectations – and I am not sure that I have figured out how to do that. I got through my week from hell and I am very slowly getting back on track, but I know it will begin again with the next show, the next chapter, the next step in our service project. Returning to my previous entry, it’s my short term plans getting in the way over and over again, and I haven’t figured out the balance. I know what I need to do, but I don’t know how to do it.

This is something that I need to figure out and work on before it’s too late.

My edited plan for the future: BALNCE to PREVENT tunnel vision, the need for blinders, and stress. 

Anti-Tunnel Vision

Today: Registration day. This registration put a lot in to perspective for me. I only have two semesters left; two more registration days. And then I have to figure out what’s next. That’s kind of a scary thought.

I sat down after registration and planned out my classes through winter of 2013. But that’s the easy part. Classes are the easy part. Classes are defined; scheduled; required. They fill in blanks to push me forward to where I need to be.

Once the classes end, it’s time to take the next step.

I’ve always had a plan. I want to stage manage – for the Cirque du Soleil, to be specific. To get there, I need more experience – I need to perfect my technique as a stage manager.  I want to complete the apprenticeship with the Purple Rose Theatre Company and attend graduate school at the University of California, San Diego and work with Lisa Porter. Eventually, I’d like to work as a stage management intern with Cirque du Soleil and move on to a permanent position. I’ve also recently been considering working with Cirque’s social work partnership, Cirque du Monde.

Looking at these intermediate and long-term plans, it seems that I am well prepared and focused on where I am going. But thinking about “the next steps” has made me consider what I really need to be doing to prepare. I come home at night and make checklists of things that I need to complete: things like homework and laundry and paperwork for my shows. But all of these things are things I need to do to “get by.” They’re short term goals that are going to get me through my next class period, or get me through the next rehearsal. And yes, eventually getting through my classes and my shows will set me up to achieve the next step in my plan, but it’s basically like doing the bottom line. I’m not achieving anything.

What I’ve realized is that people get lost in the short term. We spend so much time thinking about a single day or week of class, work, and homework that we forget to think about the things are going to develop us as individuals and as leaders.

I’ve realized that I have all of these seemingly grandiose goals and I receive all of these incredible opportunities, but I am floating my way through a regiment of objectives and I’m not actually focusing on my work or really learning from my experiences. I’m drowning in my short term goals, and I’ve developed a type of tunnel vision for simply “getting by” until I have the free time to focus on what really counts for my future. But the thing is: the free time never comes and I never really focus.

I could go on for paragraphs about the things I wish I was doing but am not – school and theatre have had a tendency to control my life since high school. But what I am realizing is that I can’t let that be an excuse anymore. I need to focus on the things that are really going to prepare me for my future. Graduating is a goal, as is doing well in my classes, but simply graduating does not develop or prepare me in the necessary fashion.

If I want to make it to Cirque du Soleil, I need to be great at what I do: I need to be a great stage manager. But to do that, I can’t just “get by.” I need to focus on the things that will set me apart: the Roberts Fellows, my thesis and trip to Spain, and my passion for philanthropy in my work. I need to create the time enhance these aspects in collaboration with my work in the theatre. My class work, as hard as it is for me to say it, is almost secondary.

I can’t have blinders on. Yes, I need to focus on finishing this semester, and the upcoming semesters. But I need to adjust my priorities. I need to prepare for Asia, for Spain, for my internship and my research, and for my thesis just as much, if not more, than I need to achieve perfection in my class work. These are the things that get pushed to the side because of the little things that I need to complete. I plan to focus better in the coming months so that I can actually complete what needs to be completed and get the most out of the time I have left with the Roberts Fellows and the time I have left at SVSU.

I may not know exactly where I want to end up or where my path will take me, but I know the major goals that I want to achieve – I know what will make me happy – And I can use those goals, and the steps that get me there, in order to outline the rest of my life that may be less certain.

My new plan for the future: no tunnel vision; no blinders. 

The Strickland Revelation

Bill Strickland: the humanitarian preaching the business of social change. Little did I know, the “business of social change” literally meant business – commercializing work meant for service.

           

I read the description, “entrepreneur and philanthropist,” and I expected to hear a tale such as that of Guy Laliberté – the theatre philanthropist and founder of Cirque du Soleil; my inspiration for all that I do in theatre and leadership. I expected to hear a story of human service, humility and caring leadership. I wanted to hear a story of strengths and weaknesses, of convictions and uncertainties, and joy of helping others.

Instead, I heard a sales pitch for a school that would boost a leader’s ego. I heard an arrogant boasting of success after success after success. I heard the details of grandiose network of fame and fortune. I heard everything but the altruistic encouragement that I was searching for.

Bill Strickland gave an hour long slide show presentation about his accomplishments, the school he built, and how his idea for the school was spreading. He gave a presentation on how all of the funding for is project was given to him seemingly under the premise that his idea was so inherently great. When asked if he had encountered resistance on his journey and how he’d handled it, he answered that of course he’d encounter resistance, but it didn’t matter because he’d already built his school and it was already a success. I almost couldn’t bear listening to him.

It is an incredible thing to have confidence and strength in your convictions. But to completely disregard all struggles, conflicts and learning opportunities is an error. I discussed in an earlier entry that leadership is not the result of freely-given success. I discussed that leadership is something that is discovered through deep internal and external struggle and growth. Although Bill Strickland’s story was inspiring on the surface, it was empty underneath. It was a shell of flashy, wow-factor technique devoid of any meaningful growth or leadership development.

I could continue – I could rant for a while about my disappointment with Bill Strickland’s presentation. But even I know criticism is wasted if you don’t learn anything from it.

It is often said that the flaws you see in other people are often the same flaws that you see in yourself. What I have been struggling with most recently is my ability to capitalize on my strengths and gain the confidence I need to be a leader while balancing that with the humility needed to connect with my followers.

Although I know not all leadership is meant to be recognized, I also know that I still feel that I need the attention. I love my job as a stage manager and I take joy in my work as I support and encourage “from the sidelines,” as I discussed in my reflections on Laurie Rospond, but I’ve also come to realize that I still feel defined by recognition. I have this need for people to know how successful I am so that I can feel empowered – but when my achievements are called to attention, I struggle to accept the compliments. Recently, I’ve begun to accuse myself of feigning humility. I’ve begun to notice that it is a habit. But I know what I need to do.  

My experiences with the fellows and the questions I’ve been discovering have been extremely humbling, and now I know why. I need to rediscover humility. From my reflections on Bill Strickland’s lecture, I’ve realized that when I can embrace the humility necessary for leadership, I can then begin to rebuild my confidence in my abilities. 

Remembering Why

“I always work out of uncertainty but when a painting's finished it becomes a fixed idea, apparently a final statement. In time though, uncertainty returns... your thought process goes on.”

- Georg Baselitz

Is uncertainty the ultimate guide – the motivator of experimentation? Or is uncertainty the enemy – the cause of wasted time?

Pauli Murray: In the Heart of the Struggle

Reflections inspired by Glenda Gilmore’s “Am I a ‘Screwball,’ or a ‘Pioneer?’ – Pauli Murray’s Civil Rights Movement.”

According to Glenda Gilmore, Pauli Murray “never won elective office. She never became famous. She never made enough money to stop worrying about making ends meet.” Gilmore characterizes Murray with “indomitable persistence and relentless self-invention;” traits that allow her to keep fighting in the face of hardship and to keep leading despite the bumps along the way.

In our discussions of Northouse, we might say that Pauli Murray was not a “successful” leader. However, it is more than possible that she was what we, and Northouse, would call an “effective” leader.

In class on Friday, I wondered if it was possible that a position of successful leadership hindered the motivation of leaders to be effective, following visions and influencing changes. Successful leaders are to given a title, and with that title, a label of leadership – whether or not the leader is leading or simply staying the course. If one has title and power and things are running smoothly, why change? Why innovate? The goals have already been set, and the goals are being met – it seems that leadership becomes easy and monotonous in these types of positions; it seems to relate to what William Deresiewicz called “hoop-jumping.”

Effective leadership, on the other hand, exists when times are hard and the waters are troubled – when a change needs to be enforced and a fight must ensue in order to do so. Again returning to Deresiewicz, he discussed the idea that the best writers have the hardest time writing because the difficulty forces them to think and plan harder than those to whom writing comes easily. In this same sense, leadership is the strongest in those leaders who are forced to struggle along the way – they are forced to work harder for what they believe is right, required to be passionate and dedicated to their causes, drawn to develop a stronger strategy to achieve their goals and visions. The best leaders are not those to whom leadership is handed, not those for whom leadership is cultivated – but they are those who discover leadership within themselves.

As Glenda Gilmore states, referring to Pauli Murray, “leaders aren’t just the few famous people who dominate the news or find their place in history books. They don’t always represent the majority. They aren’t always popular. They don’t always win, and they aren’t always remembered. Leaders such as Pauli Murray, brave and obscure men and women who act on their convictions even though they fail time and time again, sometimes change the course of history.” 

Reflecting Leadership

“There are two ways of spreading light, to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.”

- Edith Wharton

This quote is usually interpreted as an analysis of leaders and followers – leaders who shine and followers who reflect. But after Friday’s trip to Lansing, I think there may be a deeper meaning.

We arrived in Lansing dressed to the nines in our business attire. We checked in to the Romney Building ready to meet with Senator Posthumus and Bill Rosten. We were ready to ask intelligent questions and learn from some of Michigan’s big leaders. But in the midst of everything, one person stood out to me more than the important politicians who seemed to have all the answers: Laurie Rospond – the Legislative Affairs Coordinator for the Governor’s office.

Rather than being the face of a great vision, Laurie leads from the side lines; from behind the scenes – she leads through service. She plans meetings, prepares rooms, works with hospitality, provides information; she keeps the Governor’s office functioning and prepares them to lead and be successful.

Some may say that this is not leadership; that it is merely service. But Laurie is just as integral to the leadership of Michigan as Governor Snyder. Each step she takes for efficiency and preparation makes the Governor that much stronger as a leader. This strength is then reflected as her own leadership. As the Governor’s office advances and becomes stronger, Laurie advances too. But Laurie doesn’t lead for the title or for recognition of her services. She leads because of her passion for the success of Michigan; she leads because of her desire to help the Governor succeed. She works in a service-based form of leadership which is rewarding inwardly, rather than the outward glory of a traditional leader.

While talking with Dr. Z on the ride home, my acknowledgment of this form of leadership was strengthened. We discussed Michael Finney and how much more personable he seemed in our lunch with him.

“Isn’t it just attributed to stage management?” Dr. Z inquired. Seeing my confusion she continued, “I pulled him aside before lunch and told him I wanted you all to have a personal, relatable experience. I fed you all a line before the conversation started: your leadership trait.”

I’d never thought of it like that.  Dr. Z had set the stage for our meeting with President Finney and she had ensured that we got a specific experience in that situation. She had led the meeting – but not from the spotlight with President Finney. She led from the back of the room, organizing and preparing us for what was to come.

There is a position in politics called an Advance Man – a person similar to Laurie Rospond and Dr. Z during our trip to Lansing. An Advance Man travels ahead of a politician, a governor, a senator – a leader – and prepares the way for them. An Advance Man makes sure the stage is set, the people are present, etc.  An Advance Man stays when the leaders arrive to keep the event running, to provide information, etc. Without all of these things, the leader would be nothing. Without a stage, he’s just a protester on the street. Without people, he will never be heard.  Advance Men keep leaders from, for lack of a better phrase, looking like a fool. These people are leaders like Laurie Rospond and Dr. Z – they’re leaders outside of the spotlight. And just like Laurie Rospond, as the leader in the spotlight grows and advances, the Advance Men grow and advance as well. Their influence on leaders and their role in leadership is immeasurable.

These service-based leaders must be competent and intelligent; they must have the communication skills of a traditional leader; they must listen and relate to followers on a unique level; they make decisions efficiently; they empower traditional leaders to take the spotlight and guide the process form the frontlines.  These service-based leaders are passionate and devoted to their cause – and they are humble.

These service-based leaders have all of those leadership traits we discussed – but they are presented in a manner not always acknowledged in the search for leadership.   They shine with a light that is reflected – but that light is just as bright, if not brighter, than the beacon of a traditional leader.

Maybe Edith Wharton’s quote isn’t about leaders and followers – but about leaders…and leaders. 

The Art of Communication

Speeches: the bane of our existence; the assignment we had all been dreading. We came to class on the 16^th trying our hardest not to think about the assignment Dr. McCullough would soon hand out. We came to class on the 23^rd nervous and not nearly well enough prepared.

Speeches: an asset to our leadership; the assignment that would give us a glimpse how important a skill communication can be. We left class on the 23^rd with a deeper understanding of the importance, as well as the difficulties, of public speaking and communication.

This lesson, though nerve-wracking to learn, is invaluable. Communication is a skill that can make or break a leader – or any person, for that matter.

Our talents for communication are what allow us to convey our ideas and aspirations in a way that others will understand and accept. Our lack of talent for communication is what hinders our social interactions.

I had a professor not too long ago who was one of the most opinionated, catty, and untrustworthy adults I had met in a while. He can gossip with the best of them, and then turn around and make his words in to respectful, though somewhat vague, comments. He hides what he is really thinking by saying it in way that can be interpreted in either direction. He is effective through ambiguity and his skill with this style of communication is honed to an extreme. Whether this is a good use of communication skills is another story. It seems to create a rocky and unbalanced leader-follower relationship. But the use nonetheless is an asset to his personal success.

I had another professor who could do almost the opposite. He is reserved, honest, and helpful. He is able to listen intently, read how the other is acting, and respond in a manner that is fitted to the situation. He does not say everything he is thinking; he does not hide what he is thinking through his word choice – but he says everything that is important. His skill with communication has been perfected in a different manner – one that seems to develop a more trusting and comfortable leader-follower relationship.

Though one example is clearly more preferable than the other, both show how much of an impact our communication skills have on our success and our effectiveness as leaders. They are an art which must be developed and polished in order to best suit one’s needs. We can use them to mask our inabilities, inefficiencies or imperfections; we can use them to enhance our qualities, strengths, and skills. Understanding the importance of communication skills and how they are put to use can be a great benefit to a growing leader, challenging though that task may be. Communication skills are integral and a part of the entire leadership process. 

The Ethics of Leadership and the Integrity of Leaders

Jesus was denied by Peter three times as he was taken in to custody, questioned and beaten.

Roméo Dallaire watched, helpless, as 800,000 Rwandans died in genocide as the world turned its back.

In Iraq, a soldier who stood up for prisoners’ rights was himself jailed.

What do these people have in common? They were leaders; they were parts of major social movements and political events; they were attacked, and abandoned, for their beliefs; they persevered through these difficulties.

But how did these leaders decide they were right? How, in the face of opposition, did these leaders decide what was ethical and responsible? Where do they find the confidence in their beliefs and integrity of their being to accept the sometimes harsh consequences of their actions?

How is one to know whether it is the opposed or those in opposition who are wrong?

This past Wednesday, I sat in a room with the executive board members of the theatre department student organizations and the faculty of the SVSU theatre department. This past Wednesday, I listened as the faculty presented a letter that I had written, but had been delivered by another student against my will. This past Wednesday, I was called out for arrogance, acting negatively against the department, working behind their backs, and marking my own words as the words of the whole student body. This past Wednesday, I listened as every member of the executive boards, my once-supporters, denied involvement until I was the only one left.

From this event, I can gather three very different viewpoints on the situation offering three very different questions as to the ethics of leadership.

The first is my own – my views as the writer of the letter, and the leader of the “movement,” for lack of a better word, combined with the views of the SVSU theatre department faculty. During the winter 2011 semester, I watched as a number of restrictions came about the SVSU theatre department. These restrictions severely limited the number of opportunities of which students could take advantage. Over the summer, I discussed with a few students the best way to voice our concerns, taking in to consideration that cattiness and competitiveness which infiltrate the actions and judgments of the members of the department. We came to the conclusion that an anonymous letter would be the easiest way to gain attention, and open a channel for communication and action. I gathered the opinions of my supporters and began writing the letter, sending it out to the group for edits and opinions. However, in late August, a new set of policies was posted. These policies were that which we had been hoping to gain from the letter I was writing, leading to a unanimous decision against sending the letter. I immediately abandoned the writing process.

In my initial decision to voice my concerns, gain support, and write the letter I felt that I was acting as an advocate for the department for which I am so passionate. In my opinion, I was taking an ethical stance to stop the turn in the wrong direction that the department had taken. However, following the meeting and discussion with the faculty members, I could see where my actions may have seemed facetious. I could see where I may have seemed like a negative influence on the department, or a radical acting behind their backs.

Following these realizations, I began to wonder what I had been thinking. Who was I to think I could call out an unjust department? What did I know about what was ethical or right? If I had no publicly acknowledged support, how was I, or anyone, to know I wasn’t just a trouble maker working for my own self-interest? Was I leader because I took action based on my opinion, or was I wrong for my approach and my negative actions towards the department after everything it has given me? This is a normative ethics question to which I did not, and still do not, have the answer. I no longer feel like a strong, confident, and passionate leader. I feel like a child. I can’t help but wonder how all those other great leaders felt, and how they managed to keep pushing through.

The second view is that of the sender of the letter. Although I was the leader in the original plan and the writer of the letter, I abandoned the process when I no longer felt action was needed. But someone disagreed. Someone printed an email I had sent to the other students along with the letter and delivered it to the chair of the department.  Was he/she a leader for standing up against his/her peers, or wrong for taking my words and using them against my will? Were his or her actions ethical or self-interested? This is another question of normative ethics to which I do not have the answer.

I can see where this person may feel he/she was supporting the department faculty in revealing and stopping a trouble maker. After all, it was Plato who wrote that our enemies are not always the worst people, as our friends are not always the best. But it was agreed the letter was a bad idea and would not be pursued – was not that enough to prove integrity and responsibility?  

Though the delivery of the letter would have eliminated departmental competition for the deliverer, he/she hurt his/her peers and coworkers – the people with whom he/she has to work for the next few years; the people who make up his/her network of support when he/she enters the workforce. Was it not Plato who also wrote that justice goes beyond honesty and legal responsibility – that we must consider the situation, the people involved, and the potential outcomes of our actions? As a scholarship student, president of a student organization, mentor to incoming freshmen, and member of the SVSU Roberts fellows, my entire career is riding on my reputation and my standing with the faculty of the departments with which I work. I am positive that a number of students in that room with me could say the same thing for their own reputations. How can one person justly take that away from us?

It is this consideration of reputation that leads in to the third and final view point: that of my so-called supporters. When prompted for admittance of involvement, although their emails were clearly listed on the print out, the students with whom I was working denied involvement without hesitation.  I believe that involvement was denied to save these reputations. I was the sender of the email, and thus could not escape what was coming. They were receivers of an email, and thus had the opportunity to deny a literal decision to be involved. This opportunity was emphasized by a motivation to save face and desire not to risk one’s own future and education. These people, whether or not they were involved in the actual writing of the letter, went along with it. They never said, “No, it is an unjustified action which will only cause damage.” We were all involved.

The difference between me and the others in the room is that I had the integrity to take responsibility for what I had done and deal with the consequences. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t intended to send the letter, it had already been sent. Whether or not the writing of the letter was ethically right was not the issue anymore. It was an issue of motivational ethics: why should they have done what ethically may have been the right decision? Standing together in the face of opposition would have lessened the force against all of us, rather than focus the force on myself – though we all would have been in trouble. But there was no reason to bring trouble upon oneself when it could so easily have been pushed aside and avoided.

But at the same time, who am I to place myself above the others? The faculty members of the department make the rules and decide who succeeds and who does not – and they made it very clear that I had demonstrated very poor judgment in my actions. As the initiator of the group, these actions were my own and merely supported by my followers. Given the choice, I am not sure that I could have taken that wrath upon myself. Given the choice, I am not sure that I could have stepped up to the plate and risked my entire future. I cannot say I would not have denied involvement had I been given the option. The integrity that I displayed was forced upon me by the situation.

It was this discovery that left me questioning how leaders do it. How did Socrates accept his banishment based on his philosophical ideals? How did Nelson Mandela handle twenty-seven years of jail for his actions and beliefs? How did they know they were right and not just crazy? Does the perception of one’s sanity matter if he is passionate for his cause? What about Hitler? I am sure he was passionate – and yet, ethically, I cannot say his cause was just.   

Although I had hoped to come to an answer during the writing of this entry, I cannot say that I have. I have simply discovered more questions – more things to consider – in my own development as a leader. What choices will I make again? What mistakes have I made from which I can learn? What examples can I follow? I can only hope that this trial within the department will lead to a deeper and more thorough development as a leader, no matter the ethics of the moment. 

Professionalism: A Lesson in the Humbleness of Leaders

We’re all familiar with the old adage, “It is not what you say; it is how you say it.” Well, that same idea applies to the norms of professionalism.  It is not what you do; it is how you go about doing it. We are often unaware of the affect our actions might create – or even, what impression they may leave on the people with whom we are working.

I organize the monthly meetings for the executive boards of the theatre department. Our last meeting was scheduled for Tuesday, September 6^th at 10pm. After waiting for a half an hour without any members arriving, I turned in. I later found that the group had been together and decided to go to dinner for the meeting. My phone, being out of service in the meeting room, didn’t get the message.

As the organizer of the meetings, I was frustrated that I was not included in the plans or present for the September meeting. I didn’t feel that the proper steps had been taken to move a set meeting location, as petty as it may have been.

Calling on the way to the “new location” is not professionalism. “We tried” is not professionalism. Meeting in the original location and agreeing to move, leaving someone to ensure all are informed, or posting a relocation sign are the proper steps that should have been taken. But why did it bother me so much? It was a petty issue, really. I feel irrational and immature even putting it on paper.

It wasn’t that the group hadn’t been “professional” about moving our informal monthly meetings. It was trust issue – and a power issue. I had the agenda for the meetings, I knew what needed to be discussed and I was in charge of getting everything together. How was I to know that all the important things were discussed and accomplished if I was not there to lead?

Without this realization, I probably would have sent a pretty poorly worded, angry, and unprofessional text message.  Instead, I forced myself to let it go. For the sake of dignity and professionalism, I choose to trust that the group could handle itself. I am hardly an all knowing power, and if I am going to succeed, I need to learn to delegate and to trust. I have a responsibility to my group, and I need to catch up with them and get back on track, but I cannot be constantly in control.

The discovery was not that I am leader because I am professional, but that my behavior does not always reflect the professionalism I wish to see in other leaders. I suppose it goes along with Dr. Swihart’s warning on day one: although people may say we are the best and brightest of Saginaw Valley, there are plenty more as bright or brighter. We were simply given an opportunity, a chance to learn, and we should not let that thought consume us.

Be confident, but also be humble, and you will go far. 

Fighting the Text

I must say, the first readings of my Roberts Fellows experience left me with a feeling opposite of what I was expecting. I found them interesting, thought provoking and intelligent. But I wasn’t excited for the learning experience when I was finished. I was frustrated, confused and questioning.

It started with Northouse. Specifically, the section on management and leadership: how managers and leaders are separate classifications of people.

My career focus is stage management – the job focused on organization, staffing, and planning. According to Northouse, I basically keep the ball rolling. According to Northouse, this is not leadership, as leadership is based on dynamics and creativity.  I understand where Northouse is coming from, of course. My role on a production is not to create a vision and push it forward. Rather, I am present from start to finish, keeping it on track and supporting those who are actually leading it – i.e., the director. But it hurt to take a step down in title. I want to be a leader.

Immediately after reading this section, I shut myself off from the text – I wanted to find a way to prove the text wrong. How could I not be classified as a leader? My production teams look to me for stability in the chaos before the show opens. I am a beacon, available to help and guide wherever possible.

I stopped reading and started fighting. I fought with the only weapon I knew – my resume. I was granted membership as a Roberts Fellow. I am the president of Through Line Theatre Ensemble – elected in a time of need when either the organization crumbled or someone saved it. I am the organizer of the executive board members of all the theatre organizations. And I am a mentor to the incoming theatre students. One of the new students pulled me aside at dinner the other night to ask me how, if I had only been at Saginaw Valley for two years, I had come to be in charge of so many things and in touch with so many people. My resume seemed to speak for itself.

The speech, Solitude and Leadership, was not much of a consolation.

As Deresiewicz talked, my confidence droped. As he described bureaucracy that students participate in – the fight to pad their resumes and become the “yes men” of today’s society – I began to fit myself in to this description. He talked of extreme extra curriculum; of playing the game. And he talked of the empty people that this lifestyle creates – the sheep who graduate from Yale and become the CEOs of companies. And I began to worry. This is one of my greatest fears. I can feel myself drowning in all of my responsibilities, giving my all to none. Looking back at my argument – my resume, packed with things that simply “look good” – and I see exactly what Deresiewicz warned against.

I could go on forever about the things I used to do, that I enjoy but gave up in order to put everything I have in to school and theatre. Even in my interview for the Roberts Fellowship, I couldn’t come up with a hobby outside of theatre. It is one of my greatest flaws. I am a work-aholic. I make too many commitments and fill my time with responsibilities and jobs – and I leave nothing for myself. I leave no time to do the things that make me “me,” or branch out in to other areas. I leave no time for solitude – to think, reflect or learn. What if I am empty already?

I don’t want to do things because they are expected of me. I don’t want to say yes because it will make my peers and superiors happy. I don’t want to take on responsibilities simply because they look good on my resume. But I fear that this is the mindset in to which I have fallen. As we discussed in class today, it is not that we shouldn’t “jump through hoops,” or that we shouldn’t strive for success and achievement. The argument is that we should do these things with a clear head and a clear purpose. We should understand for ourselves why we are on the path we have chosen – and be confident that we have chosen it at all. When we lose sight of our goals, intentions and dreams, we lose sight of who we are; we lose sight of the passion that makes us leaders – and we become empty.

Although I do not feel that I have completely lost myself in all of my commitments and self-expectations, I cannot shake the fear that something in me will have to change if I am to embrace true leadership potential. I am not sure how this leadership potential balances with my career as manager. But I am sure that the answer will come.

These readings, though short in length, were deep in meaning, and left me questioning. They left me open to the lessons into which we will delve. They left me ready to learn and understand – ready to grow and change. But most of all – they left me ready to figure out why I am here, why I am doing what I am doing, and what is yet to come.