Seeing Change

Getting to Nara was probably one of the more exciting travel stretches of this trip, mostly because we got to organize it on our own. We've been on a pre-arranged schedule and just show up when and where we are told.  In Nara, we were challenged to organize the train ride and get to Nara, plan the sites we wanted to see, and get home all on our own. We were able to finally try to handle ourselves without defaulting to a faculty member. A faculty member here or there would try to step in and offer an opinion or steer us in a better direction, but we  knew we had it under control. The stepping in seemed to detract from our experience.

It made me think of the number of times I have been trying to train or work with a new technician and I've just stepped in to show them how to do the job. It was faster when I did it anyway. And A lot easier than trying to explain the whole process. I can only imagine how frustrated those technicians were when I didn't let them figure it out and learn it on their own.

But then I also thought back to my most recent work with new Technicians, especially with my lead technician for Little Shop of Horrors. I really tried hard to step back and let things play out and let the students learn instead of taking over. And they looked like they were enjoying themselves! Granted, it took a bit longer than I would have liked to get a few things done, and I had to go back and re-do a few things later, but it was a good experience over all. Some of the rough patches I am sure are because I am still learning to teach and lead while stepping back.

Looking back, I know that this change in me - this recognition of what I need to work on as a leader, and the development of other leadership (or even group-process) skills is because of the Roberts Fellowship. I have become more confident, team oriented, adaptable, and calm as I enter stressful situations. I am able to analyze events and take lessons form them - as a leader, a follower, and simply as a person. I am ready for progress and success.

Although the program is now over, I still have the lessons I learned and the connections I made. I am excited to work with the international students as they visit us in the States, I am excited to work with the new Fellows, and I am excited to connect with the past Fellows. I'm ready for the real Roberts Fellowship to begin and to continue down my path for success as I continue to learn and grow with each experience.

So this is not an end to the experience, but the closing of a phase and the opening of the next step.

Thank you to Donna Roberts, SVSU, President Gilbertson, Dr. Swihart, Judy, Dr. Hinderer, Dr. Gehrke, Dr. Dix, and everyone else who make the Fellowship possible. 

Hiroshima and the Peace Museum

This was possibly the hardest place for me to visit on our trip. It seemed that way for many.

It makes me sick to think that the United States, or any country, really, would inflict that much damage on another country simply to prevent the same from happening on its home soil. I do not in any circumstance believe that we are better or more important than another country of human beings. It is our duty to attempt to get along and keep peace without severely damaging our fellows.

I realize that we come from a long history of war and conquest. Japan is dealing with the guilt from events like the Rape of Nanking. In the past, they had denied these actions. Students would come to the United States and fall to tears saying that the lessons we were learning about such events were lies. But now, as stated on a panel in the Peace Museum, Japan is reanalyzing its text books and trying to take ownership of its actions. And, in a way, by doing this and calling attention to it, Japan is challenging other countries to do the same. The United States must take ownership for the bombing of Japan, for the slave trade, for numerous terrible deeds against fellow humans. Germany must take ownership of the holocaust. China must take ownership of the White Terror. Rwanda, the genocide. The Middle East and the Taliban, the terrorist attacks. Spain, the inquisition. We have caused so much damage and counted it as necessary for development, advancement, and survival. The Peace Museum was one of the first establishments I’d seen that attempted to call attention to the pain and the hardships – the damage – without placing blame on a country or group of people, and challenged all people to step up and make a difference. With the number of people who were moved by the peace museum and who signed the dialogue book with peace signs and kind words, it makes me wonder how many actually meant it and will follow through with it.  

I truly agreed with what Andy said as we discussed the experience later: It’s not that I feel responsible for the bombing in Hiroshima. I was not alive for the event and had no part in what had happened. My tears are for the fact that it seems there will always be war, and war will always lead to destruction and death of innocents, and war will always be horrible. My tears are because I wonder why we must even go there.

I fear for the new technology that we have developed. The atomic bombs allowed us to kill on a massive scale and took some of the personal aspect out of war. Now we have drone technology and automated weapons that further remove us from the battle field. As we forget what it means to kill another human being, I fear to what end we will lead our world.

I hope that all who walk through the Peace Museum at Hiroshima, or any war memorial, can also feel these thoughts and fears, take them to heart, and react by trying to make a difference. 

English Camp and Leadership in Japan

I was really nervous going in to English Language Camp. I wasn’t (and am not) really confident in my abilities to work with a group of students and make sure they get everything out of it that they are supposed to while still having fun. Also, being a technical theatre person, it makes me nervous to have to represent my theatre degree by getting up and leading a skit. But those turned out to be really minor concerns in the scheme of things.

I ended up having a really eager group. One of the girls had to go home sick, but the other two, Nagisa and Minami, and the boy, Tomoya were wonderful students and completely open to everything we had to do. We had a little bit of trouble communicating here and there, but ultimately we were making really good progress as the students shared their ideas and I helped them organize it in to a script, get the English down, and get it ready to perform. It turned out to be a lot of fun and a huge learning experience for me as I tried to work with each of them and keep them all engaged (and I am sure for the students as well!).

But there was one really interesting dynamic that I didn’t really notice until I started reflecting back on the project. Tomoya was the only boy in my group and it was really difficult to get him to share his input and stay involved with the other two students. He was just really quiet. I chalked it up to the possibility that he was shy or didn’t know the language as well as the other girls. But later, as I talked to Sean and Colin about their groups, they voiced a similar opinion about the girls in their group. Both also said that when their partners (Hailey and Megan, respectively) took over and tried to work with the girls, they were much more responsive). It made me wonder if having a male partner to help lead my group would have made Tomoya feel more comfortable. After having this thought I wondered if it was solely because of gender and if the effect was also intensified because of the way women are viewed in Japanese society.

My curiosity on the status of women continued to be sparked as we visited Shikoku University. We met with the president and chairman of the university before going to see the students and sit in on a class with the students we’d met at English Language Camp. This meeting was very formal and seemed a little uncomfortable for many of us as we didn’t know what to expect. After formal words and thanks were exchanged we were given the opportunity for a question and answer session. Our questions remained pretty tame. Monica’s, however, did not. She asked them if, since Roberts Fellows is a leadership class, they could outline the opportunities for leadership that women had at Shikoku University. After a roundabout way of discussing the history of Shikoku and briefly outlining the coursework available to women, the Chairman seemed to come to the conclusion that women did not really have leadership at Shikoku and to fill leadership curriculum, they invited in the male students. He of course didn’t say this bluntly as he had already learned that our leadership seminar was mostly women because women tried harder in the application process (as Dr. Swihart stated),  but it could be clearly deciphered from his answer to Monica’s questions.

This was the first time that I had really heard someone openly accept the limitations that women experienced in Japan. Robert had talked about it a little at our first lunch together, but his words had been in an unhappy light, hopeful that Japanese women could find opportunity eventually. He had stated that more Japanese women study abroad than men simply because the Women have no other opportunities for higher education. I hadn’t put much thought towards that statement until I heard the words of the Shikoku chairman. I hope the students we met at the English Language Camp take every opportunity they can to study abroad and create opportunities for themselves. They were too bright and eager to simply let themselves stagnate in Japan. 

On Entering Temples and Being a Tourist

Something that has really been bothering me on this trip has been the way we are able to simply pay a fee and then walk in to a sacred place like temples and shrines – temples and shrines that are still in use by patrons of each religion. In the United States, one couldn’t just walk in to a church while someone was praying and take pictures and discuss what was being seen. Most who were curious would go as a guest to a friend’s church, observe the service, and ask questions later. In Asia, although they don’t have regular ceremonies, people still use the temples and shrines regularly – and they just go about their business, disregarding the tourists wandering around. We did enter one temple – Temple #1 on the pilgrimage in Naruto – that had a service going on. And this did not stop us. We simply stood at the back and talked and wandered and were quite possibly extremely disruptive to the ritual or ceremony that the patrons were attending. It just seems so inconsiderate…but it also seems apparently normal to the culture. 

Nijo Castle and Natural Architecture

There is an intense serenity in all of the ancient sites we’ve visited in Kyoto – especially at Nijo Castle. Everything is made and decorated simply and naturally. The color tones and images are taken directly from nature. It all seems to fit and be at peace. There is not jumble of color or decoration confronting visitors at the door as in Baoan Temple. Everything just seems to flow together. The rooms flow from one to the next, the wood and stone seems to match each other, the gardens are delicate and peaceful. Even the fusion of Buddhism and Shinto seemed meant-to-be. There was no amalgamation, just a clean seam where each religion filled a place in which the other was lacking.

This even flow was more apparent when looking out to the horizon of Japan. We climbed to the top of a structure in Nijo Castle and looked out to the mountains. In the past, the mountains would have been all one saw. Today, there is a layer of forest, a layer of city, and then the mountains in the distance. But the city doesn’t look out of place. It just seems to blend in to the landscape as if it had always been there. Seeing this made it clear how easily and willingly Japan had developed. There was no rush to become a successful metropolis or modernize. There was no force to modernize from outside countries. It seemed to have simply happened as it was to happen in Japan. Perhaps this was another representation of the continuous pride in being Japanese? 

First Thoughts in Japan

After our brief time in Kyoto, I could already sense the strong pride that the Japanese people feel about being Japanese. This impression was so different from what I noticed in Taiwan and China.

In Beijing, I was consistently confused about what I was seeing and worried about making a generalization because my view was so limited (Beijing does not represent all of China). We saw the rundown downtown area, the New York-Esque shopping street near the night markets, the built-up high rises and financial district where the Olympic buildings were also placed, the hutongs ranging from well kept to poverty stricken, along with ancient temples and sites to see. I kept getting the feeling that there was a part of Beijing that we were supposed to see as tourists, and part that gets shown off to others to show the greatness of China, and a part that is generally kept hidden and can only really be stumbled upon by those wandering through, searching for alternate parts of culture. There was a clear eagerness to be on par with the Western world along with a part of the country that is lagging behind.

In Taipei, there was a wonderfully eclectic and lively feel about the city. It made Taiwan seem entirely welcome and embracing. The influence of democracy and western culture was also clear not only in the buildings and companies, but in our interactions with the universities and the natives. They were eager to come to the United States and learn about our culture, while also excited to teach us about theirs. There was a lot of pride in the opportunities that were available in Taiwan – they seemed eager to show us how similar Taiwan is to the United States, but also how much more there is in Taiwan. The pride was in how similar and successful both countries could be rather than in the native culture of Taiwan or China.

In Japan, the atmosphere is extremely different. There is power and order apparent in the city of Kyoto. The architecture is strong and stark, though often creative in an intricate but functional way. There is structure and formality in every action and interaction. There is a clear display of respect and hierarchy. But most importantly, there is no desire to be like the west. The Japanese are Japanese and that’s that…and it works. The cities are clean and organized, they’re well off economically, and their businesses are successful. They aren’t about to change any time soon. They may be welcoming and accommodating, but not to bring in change – it’s just to make a connection and continue on.

The whole comparison reminds me of a comment one of the Dow employees made when we visited: If you want a country that will be completely open to accepting changing and adapting to your corporate culture, go to China. If you want a country that will nod and say yes to your changes while implementing none of them, go to Japan.

Andy noted that many of the young people are more susceptible to change and are becoming more liberal, but even then change happens a generation at a time. It may be a stronger change as it will become engrained in the culture of Japan from the tart, but it is still a slow change. I’m not sure which is better: quick change that comes with impermanence and opposition or slow change that finishes with all parties on board?

Interactions with the Students of Ming Chuan and Shi Hsin Universities

Our interactions with the students have been my favorite part about the trip so far. This is the first time that I have really felt like I am in Taiwan and truly learning something. The history is important and it is extremely interesting to study, but seeing and experiencing modern dynamics has been equally insightful. It helped me to make connections between what we have been learning about and what is really going on.

At Ming Chuan, our interactions were intricately planned. We began at a formal meeting between professors, administrators, and students at Ming Chuan and our own students and faculty members. Formal words and introductions were exchanged between each party; we watched a video about Ming Chuan; and had an opportunity for a question and answer session with the students. Following this, we went on a formal tour of the university to see the various artifacts, cultural rooms, and other elements that Ming Chuan had to offer.

I spent a lot of my time at Ming Chuan with a student named Nina. As we toured the various locations of Ming Chuan, she continued to tell me that she was unfamiliar with these areas. The culture rooms were mainly used for tours that came through and educational workshops with students not from Ming Chuan. The museums and artifacts were simply extra (like Marshal Fredericks Museum at SVSU). She talked about how busy she was with her program and how she didn’t spend much time at extracurricular activities like the museum.

As we continued along, I asked her about her travels to the United States and the things he was most excited about. She really wanted to be able to site-see in Michigan and spend time on campus meeting students and become much immersed in our university, but she was very concerned that she wouldn’t have time. She was expecting to be in class from 8am to 5pm and then have homework until late in to the night. Although I understood that she will be participating in a brief, month long intensive summer program at SVSU, it seemed so strange that she was expecting to be in school all of the time. It reminded me of the intensity of schooling that ­­­­­­­­­­­Dr. Liu talked about at the Grand Hotel.

This look in to the intensity of schooling in Taiwan continued as we watched the Ming Chuan video. There was a point in the movie that stated Ming Chuan was comparable to Columbia and Pennsylvania State University. Saginaw Valley is not in the same league as those Universities by a long shot, and yet we are still a sister university to Ming Chuan. We have students coming to Saginaw Valley expecting rigorous school work and hard schedules—students who are excited to come and learn and become fluent in English despite the fact that Saginaw Valley may not be on the same level as their home university. It made me think about how much the universities like Ming Chuan are able to achieve when they have such a hard working base of students to draw from – and how far schools like Saginaw Valley in the United States have to fall if we aren’t careful.

At Shi Hsin, however, the environment was very different – it was more relaxed and informal, but still informative of Taiwanese culture. We met with the Shi Hsin students very briefly in their home university. Enough time to reconnect with Mimi and Timmothy (students who had visited Saginaw Valley earlier in the year) and meet the new students planning to travel to SVSU. We saw very brief presentations on Shi Hsin and food in Taiwan before parting to change and prepare to travel for a night out with the students in Taiwan. We were finally moving away from the schools and seeing what students actually did in their free time.

I spent most of my time with a student name Beatrice who would be attending a college in Wisconsin rather than SVSU (but despite this, she still wants to visit SVSU when she travels to the States). Beatrice was a lot of fun to talk to and get to know. She was really excited to show me her favorite parts about Taiwan, the shopping, the food, and the night markets. But what really stood out was how accommodating she was trying to be for me. We didn’t just walk around talking, she let me chose which stores we went in to. She was hesitant to choose where she wanted to go or what her favorite things were, instead waiting for me to say something looked interesting or tasty. I had to really push her to take me to her favorite locations and show me the things she personally recommended about Taiwan. This was most apparent at the night markets. Rather than showing me her favorite stations to eat or shop at, she took the time to call a friend and learn which stations had the best version of whatever cuisine we were about to try. She got the names of a few dishes that were extremely popular for tourists and extremely famous in Taipei. Along with these, we stopped at a few of her favorites too, but she was dead set on showing me the best parts of night market we were visiting. Although our visit with Shi Hsin was more relaxed, they were still planning our outings to show us the best parts of where we were going, just like Ming Chuan showed us the best parts of their university in the organized tour.

After receiving such wonderful hospitality and the concentrated accommodation of the students in Taipei, I began to realize how important it will be for us to return the favor when these, or any students, come to Saginaw Valley. We were extremely taken care of and extremely welcomed everywhere we went in Taipei. We owe it to these students to show them the best of Saginaw Valley when they come and try our hardest to make their stay worthwhile. I’m even more excited to greet these students over the summer and in the fall as they begin to come to our university. I can’t wait to reconnect with new friends and show them that we, too, can be great hosts. 

Chiang Kai-Shek and the Chinese-Taiwanese Conflict

The first thing I noticed about the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall was  how much it looked like the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. Carol told us later that President Lincoln was a favorite of Chiang. The second things I noticed were the inscriptions along the walls in Chinese characters. I asked Carol what they meant. The first were the words Ethics, Democracy, and Science. Chiang used these principles to fight against the communist party and work to unify China. He was a member of the nationalist party (Kuomintang or KMT) in China, but was also urged by the western countries (specifically the United States) to democratize. The second inscriptions instruct readers to continuously improve the life of humanity and to sustain life in the universe. The third inscription is Chiang’s will, challenging readers to continue his legacy and always look back in to history as they continue in to the future.

As we began to explore the ground level of the Hall and go through the museum, Andy explained to us some of the history and dynamics of the Chinese-Taiwanese conflict and how Japan fit in to the mix. What he found most interesting was that if Japan hadn’t invaded China, there may never have been communism in China because Chiang and his troops would have been able to fight strongly and successfully against Mao. But this was not the case. Japan invaded and Chiang retreated to Taiwan, hoping Mao would tire out his troops against Japan and allow Chiang to sweep through and take control. Instead, Mao became battle hungry and the plan backfired.

We also discussed the White Terror, a movement by many different governments in their respective countries to eliminate communism. In China and Taiwan, the White terror was led by Chiang Kai-Shek. There was a huge massacre in Shanghai following the push through all of China. On Taiwan, any people even thought to oppose KMT would disappear. This included communists, liberals for the democratization of Taiwan, Chinese mainlanders who had escaped to Taiwan, and many of Taiwan’s social and intellectual elite. It was this act that left many Taiwanese bitter towards the Chinese mainland, communism, and Chiang Kai-Shek.

It is curious to me that two of the words inscribed on the walls of the upper level of the hall are Ethics and Democracy. It was not until Chiang’s son, Chiang Ching-kuo and later Lee Teng-hui came in to power that democracy was really instated in Taiwan. Additionally, it seems hardly possible that ethics was something considered by Chiang Kai-Shek as he moved through the Chinese mainland, brutally purging it of communists and later doing the same (or worse) on the island of Taiwan. Perhaps it was Chiang’s view that anti-communism was ethical (a very ends-justify-the-means, utilitarian approach to ethically removing communism, though it may be), but once it came to destroying all opposition to KMT I feel the ethics of the matter were entirely lost.

It seems strange to me, then, that these two phrases would be elected to be inscribed on a memorial hall for Chiang Kai-shek. He did a lot to develop Taiwan and create success for the country, but a brutal history trails behind him. This thought also makes it curious that the inscription of his will would instruct readers to always remember the past as they move forward. It seemed like subtle way of cherishing how far Taiwan had come while also reminding visitors of the terror that came with this progress despite how little the real history is discussed in actuality (we discussed also how many Taiwanese will not discuss the Chinese-Taiwanese conflict and the White Terror beyond an academic setting—it won’t simply come up in conversation on the streets).

We also discussed that there would never be a public reconciliation for what had happened beyond the public apology from Lee Teng-hui in 1995. This just seems to continue to speak to the reality of how little the conflict is discussed. The hope is that it will simply fade in to history as Taiwan moves forward and becomes more successful. This, again, seemed so contradictory to the inscription in the Memorial Hall. To take it further, as we exited the bus to enter Taipei 101, we crossed paths with a group of protestors holding pamphlets and signs displaying the horrible injuries that were inflicted during the White Terror. Andy told a few of us that they would set up near the tower so that they could catch the mainland tourists as they exited their busses. There would be no way for the mainlanders to avoid the information. This if nothing else seemed like a cry for reconciliation, an act of remembrance, and a case of the people taking the issue to the streets—beyond academic discussion.

The unrest of the issue seemed clear to me. It makes me worried—or hopeful—for what might happen in the future. The conflict can’t possibly stay repressed forever. But then again, with the culture of saving face and staying quiet, it might. 

The Palace Museum and Ancient History

I always seem to forget just how old Asia culture is. We went to the Palace Museum and the pieces on display stretched way back to before the Common Era. But the techniques and designs never seemed rudimentary. They were working with chemistry (whether or not it was known to be chemistry) to age bronze, writing and recording analects on how to control water, painting with textures from fabric to fur, and clearly displaying emotion long before many of the more modern countries were even beginning to get started. There was so much to take in. It really made me realize how young the United States are. But also, it made me realize how removed Asia is from the rest of the world. When learn about art and religious history, we lump most of the word in to a progressive category, analyzing art and culture as it develops and spreads from its roots to neighboring countries and around the world. On the contrary, East Asian countries like China are given a completely separate and isolated category. The intricate artwork of China began in China and remained there. Their discoveries and records didn’t leave the country. Even in theatre history, we learn about East Asian theatre as a completely different tract than the rest of the world. Going through the museum was the first time I really focused on the deep separation of East Asia from the rest of the world. 

Dinner at the Grand Hotel

 I am unsure what I concluded from the dinner at the Grand Hotel.

It was definitely a chance to see how hard the students in Taiwan worked. As Dr. Liu described, his students would often get up at 5:30am and go to school until 9:00pm. Then they would go home and do homework until about midnight. Much of the work they did until 9:00pm was outside of the normal school day. This work consisted of workshops and classes to improve on their English – literature, drama, conversation, art, music, etc. Further, parents often do not get to see their children—and they simply accept this fact. If their children work hard, they will be better than the other children thus bringing honor to their families and saving face. Parents believe that their children’s long hours and hard work are necessary sacrifices in for this honor. They want their children to be the best that they can be.

I also couldn’t help but feel a little out of place as we continued to talk. I am a theatre major. Although I am taking management and Spanish language courses, I am planning to go in to the entertainment business. I sat at a table of other students who had prospects in Taiwan. Teaching students, nursing students, law students, business and accounting – they all seemed to have some degree that they could pursue in Taiwan or some way in which they could benefit from coming to teach in Taiwan. I didn’t feel like the same applied to me and the career I am pursuing. Ming Chuan in Taiwan didn’t even really have an art program. There were other universities that had art programs, but we didn’t hear much about them. It was simply something Carol mentioned in passing. Perhaps I was making myself feel uncomfortable by thinking too hard about what was being said or trying to find too much meaning in what was happening, but either was I found it difficult to dive in to the excitement that the others seemed to be feeling about studying abroad in Taiwan. 

Baoan Temple

I feel as if I missed out with Baoan Temple. I had a hard time understanding the tour guide, making it difficult to remain focused. I understood that it was an amalgamation of different religious beliefs with many gods to pray for about different things. What I missed were the explanations about rituals and symbolism behind the different paintings and decorations.

We did talk about Yin and Yang – the most prominent examples were the crescent prayer blocks and the bamboo barred windows. It was really exciting to see the religious elements we discussed in class actually used by the natives and to understand how they worked.

I would like to return to some of the Taipei temples and learn more about the architecture, layouts, decorations, and elements that are present. The display was so intricate and eclectic – it would be interesting to compare deeper to the other temples we visited in Beijing and will visit in Japan. 

Upon Arriving in Taipei

Taiwan reminds me of what I think Beijing would look like in ten years. The buildings were crammed on to the streets. There was an eclectic mash of colors, styles, signs, and languages. There were logos that we recognized and some that we did not. There were cars, people, and scooters everywhere. You could feel the rush of the city before even exiting the bus. But it wasn’t a hectic busy like Beijing—it was just a city and it was lively.

We made an analogy as well: Beijing is to New York as Taipei is to Toronto. Beijing was big, busy, and built up. It was very white in color but it was dusty at the same time. It felt manmade. Taipei was different. It was still clearly a city, but it fit so perfectly in to the mountains and the landscape that it didn’t seem out of place. There were trees everywhere and it seemed natural and inviting. It even had Taipei 101 to imitate Toronto’s CN Tower.

The temples are so much more ornate than in Beijing. Beijing was wonderfully painted and well kept. With everything so immense and intentionally placed the importance, power, and majesty of each location was deeply apparent. In Taipei, the intricacy of the colors and designs were the more eye catching aspects of the temples – especially Baoan. The decorations were beautiful and breathtaking, but there was so much to look at that it was hard to take it all in. 

Defining Culture

The Pearl Market, though not a traditional aspect of Chinese culture, was an exciting and eclectic experience. We walked in the door and there were vendors grabbing at us and calling to us trying to sell us cheap, worthless trinkets that were little related to anything truly Chinese—just junk you could enjoy for twenty minutes and then throw away because it broke.

What were even more shocking were the stalls upon stalls of counterfeit items like DVDs, video games, jerseys, and electronics. The government doesn’t regulate these items in China so they are easy to sell and rampant. I almost felt guilty watching the group and other tourists support the counterfeit culture. We are constantly searching for cheap things and will do anything to cut a deal. The vendors were clearly aware that we would buy anything as long as it was cheap and they played to that.

I wasn’t sure if I was more worried that the beautiful, ancient Chinese culture was falling prey to Western capitalism, or that our western culture was falling prey to the Chinese’ understanding of the way we function. Either way, the relationship seems unhealthy. Kyle told me of a family that goes on vacation to China with empty suitcases specifically so they can buy cheap Christmas and birthday presents, and with all the money they spend on the trip and vacation, they still save money on the cost of gift shopping, so they do it every year. Stories like that scare me and make me wonder where we’re headed and which culture will suffer the greatest loss (or if there will even be a loss at all). 

Lost Luxury

The vast size of Forbidden City and Temple of Heaven took my breath away. The intricacy of detail and color and the immensity of the structures (considering they used no nails!) are just incredible. I could only imagine what it would be like to see these places in their glory.

At the same time, it seems like intense luxury with no sentimental value. The young emperors lived in this giant, beautiful palace…alone. They were puppets to the Empress Dowager and were deprived of interaction with other children and the outside world – they deprived of many of the things that create what we consider childhood.

Our guide today talked about the emperor and his concubines – how he was “busy” because there were so many and he would often have to stop before he got through them all. It all struck me as so very empty. All of the women throwing themselves at the emperor in hope that they might bear his child and bring honor to their families, the emperor jumping from concubine to concubine simply out of duty rather than actual enjoyment or desire. Further, the Empress Dowager making decisions behind a screen in order to bestow power on the emperor and still get her way, the eunuchs, serving the emperor castrated so that he could be the only man in the palace, the emperor not even eating more than three bites of each meal so that no one could poison him.

I know that the ritual and honor of it all and the collectivist way of life is all part of the Chinese culture, but I can’t ignore the emptiness of it all. I feel that I would be lost in the endless luxury – luxury that hardly seems like it was ever actually enjoyed. It seems it would often be more of a burden than an honor and that the true glory of the buildings and the way of life would be lost.

As I write this, though, I am wondering if I am getting everything out of these paces as I could be due to the rush and the crowds. I feel that I miss a lot and cannot simply take everything in that would like to. Perhaps I was disillusioned going in – expecting something great and full of revelation. I keep hoping all of these things will culminate to one great, deeper meaning. The hope makes it seem as if I am over analyzing what I am seeing while I search for meaning. I’m not sure what the real answer is. 

Power in Arcitecture

Summer Palace was beautiful—the art and history in the architecture could take your breath away. It is incredible to me that it was burned down twice during invasions and rebuilt with such splendor each time. The paintings of the classics on the ceilings and structures are so intricate – I can only imagine the time and work that goes in to maintaining them (or the time and money that went in to creating them in the first place).

The marble boat is what really struck me, though. We’d learned about it in class and when we watched The Last Emperor, but to see it in person was entirely different. It was built by the Empress Dowager Cixi with embezzled navy funding in order to waste the money and prevent reform. I find it curious that in the United States we have checks and balances that are often so extensive that nothing gets done but in China under Cixi, there was one ruler with the extensive power to prevent things from getting done. They are on complete opposite ends of the extreme.

It was also strange to me to think that something full of so much beauty and intricacy—a site so appreciated by tourist and natives alike—could have been a part of a scheme to damage all of China.

The Ming Tombs were just as majestic. As we walked through the gate, the structures farther back in the tomb seemed to grow larger. You could feel the weight they carried. Inside the offering building, I was taken aback by the size of the support beams and the statue – the great architecture, though not as intricate as at summer palace, was powerful simply for its size and vastness. As we exited into the courtyard, the rear structure overlooking the burial mound loomed above us. As we climber to the top, the peacefulness was incredible. It was quiet and open – no tourist merchants hocking their wares or noisy cars beeping through the city. The whole set up seemed to demand respect as we stood gazing out at the mountains in the distance.

Once again, the same majesty and power was apparent in the great wall and our climb to the top. The crumbling stairs were massive as we mounted each, getting closer and closer to the peak and farther away from the city and countryside below. I was a long, exhausting climb but it was wonderful to look out over what seemed like all of China when we were through.

Just as it is inherent in the weathered, beaten look of the inner city hutongs, the age of the country and culture is clear when one stops to take in the architecture.

Thinking back, though, I am not sure that all do stop to take in the architecture—or perhaps it’s that we are not all given the opportunity to do so. Many have at least seen photos of ancient Chinese architecture—they could recognize a Chinese style building if it was showed to them. But few have been able to go and stand amongst the buildings and see the beauty and power in the walls and decorations or experienced how intentional the layout of each site is. Additionally, many have seen images of modern China, but they seen buildings that are meant to be seen. They see the structures built for the Olympics and the business districts of Beijing rather than the weathered hutongs or the dusty streets.

As tourists on a one-time trip to Beijing, I feel was saw the part of China that we were supposed to see. We saw a part of China trying to show that it could westernize despite the history and culture in its past. We saw tourism and westernized Chinese food, high class restaurants imitating Italian cuisine rather than the best of China, and fresh buildings and high-rises crowding out the ancient splendor of historic China. I want to see more. I want to go beyond Beijing and see the rest of China – the “real” China, or what it would be without tourism and buildings meant for show and tell. Even with our daily excursions, we are carefully guided by Alex and Parrol. We are taken to tourist-friendly restaurants where food is ordered for us to try. Even when we go as a group to restaurants like the Dim Sung restaurant, we still have food ordered for us so we don’t get the experience of fending for ourselves or falling heavily in to the extensive culture that surrounds us.

I would hope that if given a second chance we chose to run a little farther and hunt a little deeper for the pieces that truly make up China rather than just the surface of tourist-heavy Beijing. 

Seeing the City for the First Time

I am impressed with the number of people who are simply out and about in Beijing. We took a walk with Andy and Judy to find a 700 year old hutong street and ended up just wandering around the hutong area, walking through shops, and exploring some city parks. The first thing I noticed was that people weren’t shut up in stores or offices. They were out on the streets socializing with one another. Shop owners would set chairs outside their stores and sit with friends and family while they ate and talked. Bicyclers would stop and talk to each other or talk to walkers along their way. In the parks, there were groups of families and friends sitting out and enjoying the beautiful sun and scenery around them. It didn’t seem like something that would happen in the United States—maybe in a small town, but not in a huge city like Beijing. In the United States, people would be rushing to work, too busy to stop and chat. They would be shut in their cars with the air conditioning blowing before they shut themselves in their offices and stores, also with the air conditioning blasting. Beijing was busy with all of the people, but it seemed so much warmer and friendlier simply because people were so open with each other. 

Another aspect of Beijing that caught my attention at first glance was how dusty the city is. The city cars seem to be covered in a layer of dust or dirt. You can even taste it in your mouth. The hutongs seem dilapidated and there is garbage piled in the nooks and crannies. The laundry we saw hanging in some of the living areas looked stained and dirty. Even the people look warn and leathery. Nothing looked new or pristine, but used and broken in. It was as if you could see the age of the culture simply by watching the way people live.

The Things Parrol Said

There were a few things that Parrol told us in his introduction to Beijing that threw me off.

He noted that there were many towers in China that were left over after the walls came down. He said this was a symbol for China’s past tendency to be a closed country and that the walls coming down mean the country is becoming more open. Another guide told us that the walls came down to expand the city and that the towers were a reminder of growth and how far China had come. It seems to me that although China was very closed-off in the past, once it was realized that its privacy was damaging its ability to compete with the western world, an extreme eagerness to westernize, or at least appear westernized, developed. With this in mind, the latter symbolism of the towers seem more valid in that the people remember how far they have come and how far they must still go rather than reminisce of a time that hindered current success.

Parrol also told us that family wasn’t as important as Dr. Hinderer had originally said. He told us that many children hate their parents because they are pushed too hard in school. He said that’s why they go away to college or go to Beijing – to get away from their parents. He did admit that he ran from his parents but eventually went back to them because of how much they helped him. But it seemed like such a different presentation of family and respect than we had learned about in class. Even when we visited the hutongs, we saw a private family owned hutong that, although worth a lot of money, would never be sold because it was a family heirloom and family was of the utmost importance. Our guide told us many families also lived in the public hutongs and that young couples would move away from their families in those situations to get more space and privacy, but she did not say anything about disregarding the importance of family. I asked Yeyi about it later and she simply laughed and said Parrol was probably a bad student in school and that family was just as important as we had seen in the other situations. It made me wonder how many of the things Parrol said we should take with a grain of salt. 

Leadership and Culture in Asia: The Beginning

We just got to the Capitol Hotel in Beijing. I don’t know if it’s hit me yet that we’re here, ready to experience everything that we’ve been learning about. Right now, I think I am caught up in the newness and excitement of it all. I was so thrilled when we arrived at the airport in Bay City and I was ready to get going. The adrenaline carried over to the flight from Detroit to Beijing. I was caught up in the fact that this was my first international flight, that the plane was huge, that there were so many people and things to take in. When we got to Beijing, our tour guide, Parrol, gave us even more information to consider as we drove to the hotel. We were also busy figuring out rooms and phone numbers and tipping – there was so much arrival and preparation to deal with that I haven’t really thought about the fact that we are in Beijing.

I did manage to stop and observe on the plane, though. I looked out the window when it was bright as day and saw the perpetual sunrise over the snowy Arctic Circle. My photos don’t even begin to do it justice. Although this landscape is not directly related to our upcoming experiences in East Asia, it made me realize how excited I am to simply be immersed in everything that is Asia and is not Michigan. I’m ready to leave everything behind and go on an adventure. 

Respect through Effort and Attention

Kant states that all people deserve a minimum of dignity and respect. He continues to say that it is our duty as people to do whatever we would consistently wish everyone else in a similar situation to do. To act in a way alternate of this would be immoral.

I find it extremely hard to accept that it is possible for a person not to deserve some form of respect. Therefore I am inclined to agree with Kant. All people, regardless of what they have done or from where they have come, deserve a minimum of respect simply because they are people. The reality of the matter is that we cannot know the motivations of people the backgrounds of nurturing that make them act the way they do. We cannot place labels on people and count them as immoral or undeserving of respect simply because of past decisions or actions.

Beyond this the idea of owed respect requires more definition. It is not to say that we should turn bands of burglars loose, regarding their misdeeds as a consequence of their past. We still need rules and standards to keep society functioning. Rather, respect simply means an attempt to understand. We owe our fellows the respect of not judging or stereotyping or making rash decisions. We must give to others of our time so that we may know their backgrounds and motivations, searching beyond consequences and results. If an employee stole from a company because his family was struggling, the employee would need to be reprimanded for the good of the company. But also, his problems with his family also deserve to be addressed. We cannot solve problems without addressing them at the source. To do this, we must have the ability to recognize that the problem stats elsewhere than the fact that the employee is a thief. A manager would owe the employee enough respect to sit down and try to understand his situation and find the best solution.

Leaders are thus challenged with the task of complete awareness of their followers so that they can facilitate this form of respect and care for people and cultivate it through every aspect of their organizations. It is true that it may not be successful with all people – we all fall short in some respects – but it would be more of a failure if we did not recognize our duty and try to fulfill it.

A Vote for Deontology

Utilitarianism is the doctrine saying that what is useful is good. As Jeremy Bentham and James Mill outline, the aim is the greatest happiness for the greatest number. This doctrine creates a series of calculations to determine best possible combination of intensity, duration, certainty, propinquity, fecundity, purity, and extent that a decision could create. The focus is on the ends rather than the means. It would be ethical in the utilitarian sense to torture one child in order to keep the whole town happy—an example so well outlined by Ursula LeGuin in her short story “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas.”

Critics say that this form of thought highlight the fact that it creates extreme pain for one person even if it means that everyone else is happy. It exploits minority groups who would be sacrificed in order to promote the majority. Additionally, it risks an unequal distribution of justice. The form of thought most prominent in the debate of utilitarian thought is deontology. Deontologists argue that predicting the outcomes of an action is impossible and that a person should focus on his own actions and the things that he himself can control.

Democracy is a form of government ruled by all the people, or all eligible people, of a state. It is often described as rule by the common people. It is characterized by designated equality of rights and privileges. Basically, all people have the same rights and abilities in a state. They are all entitled to an opinion. In a democratic society, the people would have to vote in order to decide actions of the state.

Critics, like Plato, display the downsides of democracy. It can often become difficult to make decisions quickly as people must discuss, vote, and semi-agree. Additionally, as not all people involved in government are influenced by higher knowledge, society is simplified so that all can participate. For Plato, of all the forms of government, aristocracy would have been the best as the good would be leading the bad from falling astray. Further criticism shows that control by the common people can result in what we often call a “majority rule.” The decision is made by finding the item receiving the most votes. Thinking back, this seems eerily similar to problems with utilitarianism in which the minority are exploited for benefit of the greatest number. In the case of democracy, it is not the ultimate benefit of the greatest good that is emphasized, but rather greater number simply overpowers the smaller no matter the outcome.

In this sense I think an extreme in either category of thought (utilitarianism or democracy) could be detrimental to a society or organization. I don’t necessarily agree with Plato, however, when he states that an aristocracy is the best form of government. I have thought in the past that the United State’s combination of republic and democracy made a successful form of government by the people that was also limited in what the majority could accomplish. However, it does not seem that exploitation of the minorities has been reduced (i.e. civil rights movements – though successful eventually, the trials and tribulations are extensive).

This leaves me with the deontological frame of thought. We discussed three main theorists of deontology – Kant, Gert, and Rawls. Of these three, Bernard Gert had the clearest reasoning in order to develop an ethical society. Gert states that “ethical principles are universal, unchanging, discovered not invented, and not dependent on the will or decision of individuals.” He also states that there are ten basic rules which “apply all other things being equal, and can be outweighed in very unusual circumstances.” Basically, there are certain principles inherent in our way of life that should be followed at all times – but there are also situations in which a leader must make a tough decision when the principles are challenged. If there were never circumstances in which hard decisions needed to be made, we would have no need for leaders.

Thus, I agree with the critics in the fact the complete utilitarianism and complete democracy may lead to mediocrity, or some form of detriment to society or an organization. There must always be balance in the extremes and it is often up to the leader to find the proper combination. By removing the ability to adapt as leaders, we set ourselves up for failure. Instead, we must stay open to all possibilities and find the frames of thought that guide us through often uncharted territories.

The Complexity of Leadership

If there is one thing I have learned during this fellowship it is that ethics are anything but simple. The complexity of various situations and the extent of ethical history leave me wondering for hours over what is truly “right.”

People, or leaders, who fail to recognize the complexity of ethical behavior become prone to rash, uninformed actions. This became clear in our debate over dropping the atomic bombs in Japan, to use an extreme example.

The decision to drop the bomb on Hiroshima entailed a number of ethical considerations before the final decision was made – and even after all of that, years later, there is still a debate as to whether the right choice was made.

Truman had to consider the lives of American citizens in the country he was to be leading. He had to consider the lives of Japanese citizens who equally deserve simple respect simply because they are people—but also who were fighting under bushido code, meaning they would fight to the death no matter what. He had to consider the actions of other countries like the Soviet Union and what consequences those actions would have and how dropping the bomb would affect the way these countries viewed and interacted with the United States. He had to consider the long term effects of introducing nuclear warfare in to the world. 

With all of these considerations, a simple statement such as “don’t harm others” is inadequate. Without being critical or “playing devil’s advocate” as some would say, not all of these considerations would have been brought to light. It would not have been considered that a warning should have been delivered before hand, or why a conditional surrender was offered and what that would have entailed, or that communication with Hiroshima would be completely cut off after the bomb and what that would mean for the country. And many of these things were not considered – but are discussed in the present day as people still try to muddle through the bombing and what was or was not ethical.

It is true that these implications can create a substantial task for a leader as he considers a decision. It can be easy, then, to try and disregard several aspects. People may stop themselves from asking the hard questions or fail to push themselves to look at all of sides of a situation. They take the easy way out, or lump groups together and ignore certain consequences, thus developing the uncritical relativist approach to a more complex aspect of leadership.

To prevent this, a leader, or even a person simply trying to act ethically, must put himself in a position in which he is supported in all aspects of tough situations. We read an example of this in the speech at West Point – a recommendation that leaders should have solitude in order to think and reflect with themselves, but that they should also have someone around to talk to, bounce ideas with, and get advice about life and decisions. Someone one can trust and be honest with. Similarly, in a play I’ve been working on, two of the characters, though complete opposites, visit each other constantly and debate about current topics in their lives and in the town. They talk about life decisions and serious matters as well as frivolous things like gossip. They disagree often and they argue, but it helps them figure things out. When asked why they spend time together, Elsa, the younger of the characters, states that it is because Helen challenges her. She has developed a relationship that keeps her on her toes, thinking and questioning. Elsa knows herself and her beliefs better because of Helen. Even as I have been sitting composing this journal entry, I have been bouncing ideas off of Liz, and she’s been doing the same with me. Our entries are more thought out and well composed after talking and brainstorming with each other and figuring out the answers to the harder or confusing questions.

Often times, ethics cannot be figured out on one’s own. We all come from differing backgrounds and influences, with have different perceptions of the world and different ideas about the way people function. If we were to focus only on the way we think and feel, we would miss the ways of many different people around the world. Without these other perceptions, we lose the ability to perceive certain complexities when making ethical decisions and become blinded. We must surround ourselves with people who also make us think in order to really begin to understand the world around us and delve deep in to ethical discussion.

On the Nature of Humans

I believe it would be false to say humans are either entirely good or evil. If we leaned clearly in one direction or the other, there would not be a debate at all. We would all understand the nature of who we are. Clearly this is not the case.

Menxi makes an interesting point while defending Confucianism against Mo. He, however, states that humans are fundamentally good and go wrong because of poverty, competition, materialism, laziness, and lack of cultivation; i.e. the stresses and strains of daily life. He claims that Confucianism teaches people to cultivate the good and sacred things in life, keeping them on track in times of trouble.

While instead of believing that humans are fundamentally good and choosing to say that they exist in a fundamentally neutral state, I agree with the idea that Menxi presents. Humans are born as a clean slate. Our personality, though determined in part by genetics, it is also determined by our environment and interactions as we grow and develop. We are influenced by our surroundings and pulled to act in a positive or negative manner. The way that we develop and act then affects the way that we perceive people, leading us to think humans are either good or evil, contrary to our actual state of affected neutrality.

A good leader must have the ability to remove himself from an assumption of good or evil nature. He must be able to view each involved follower, the situation and context, and the possible consequences of his decisions before he acts. Only then will the leader be able to treat each human in a just fashion.

When a leader fails to act with this form of objectivity he makes assumptions not only about a person’s fundamental nature, but also of his motivations and possible actions. A leader expecting all humans to be fundamentally evil and therefore act in a negative fashion will close himself off from his followers, provide strict rules, and limit his followers. This will create a very cold leader-follower relationship. A leader expecting humans to be fundamentally good and act in a positive fashion may risk extensive openness with his followers. Though good hearted, he will be pushed over and abused, blind to the misdeeds of which humans are capable.

Instead, by viewing humanity through a lens of neutrality and removing assumptions, a leader remains open to all possibilities of human function. He is able to connect with and relate to each follower and truly understand actions, decisions, and consequences before acting on behalf of the group. It is with this form of clear, level thinking and interacting that the strongest leaders are realized. 

Thoughts on Drive

I’ve been thinking a lot about drive and dedication; passion and the desire for perfection; success and sacrifice. These are all things that I qualities that I think leaders need to embrace. However, I also think that they can also hinder a leader if not balanced by perspective. It is the line between the two – the one weight that keeps the scale from tipping – that I have a hard time defining.

I’ve been questioning this more and more as I continue to work in the theatre department to an excessive extent. I am driven to take on every possible opportunity because I want the experience. I want to learn the elements of theatre so that I can make myself more saleable and successful. But sometimes I am too driven and I take on too much. I take on so much that I can’t possibly put enough time in to each task to make it the best it can be, so my drive for success, in a way, cancels itself out.

But also, the intensity of my commitments and my resulting schedule is my choice. I chose to take on the opportunities; therefore it is my responsibility to do well no matter what it takes. I will come in early and stay late and I won’t ever let my team down. I make sacrifices so that my team can succeed and the projects get finished. It’s not always fun, and the end product isn’t always perfect, but it’s enough. In the end, I’m not sure whether my actions are good or bad. Although I am not necessarily completing my best work, I am learning and growing with each responsibility that I take on.

However, I also believe I take the idea of drive for leaders to an extreme. You don’t have to do everything to be driven; you don’t have to do nothing to be lazy. I started recognizing this as we struggled to reschedule class after so many people tried to skip the Friday heading in to spring break.

My first irritation with the situation was that it was necessary at all. We were all informed very clearly at the beginning of the year that Roberts Fellows is to be our top priority. We all know that we have class on Fridays. And yet…people scheduled over top of class and simply thought they would be excused. Some situations I understood – for other educational programs like Clinicals or Student Teaching Seminars that are mandatory and can’t be made up, exceptions have to be made. But in other cases, I think skipping class was an inconsiderate choice on the part of the other students. But that wasn’t what really irked me.

After realizing that we were never going to find a time that we could all meet, a suggestion was made that we should consider sacrificing something in order to make time. All well and good. But the only students agreeing to make sacrifices were the same students who had actually planned to be in class on today. The dedicated students inconvenienced by the cancellation that was out of their control were being further inconvenienced as the original students seemed to be refusing to budge. Talk about a lack of drive or sense of responsibility towards the group.

What frustrated me was that the Roberts Fellows was to be the group for which I didn’t have to sacrifice in order to pick up slack; the group of similarly driven and dedicated students that would put in equal effort in order to achieve to a level that met the expectations of the University—and this was not seeming to be the case.

But I suppose, when you think about it, we are all so involved on campus and in the workforce that we may not be able to make sacrifices. There are some things that simply require your attention and you have no choice. So perhaps the other students were experiencing a situation similar to my work in the theatre – a situation in which they commit and commit and commit to the point where something needs to be sacrificed, and yet, you can’t sacrifice anything without inconveniencing your teams.

So where is the line? I’m still uncertain.

Ahimsa in America

To live a life without suffering, the Buddhists preach that we must follow the 8-fold path. This requires the right outlook on knowing and avoiding suffering, the right resolves to renounce the world and do no harm, the right speech without slander and lies, the right acts abstaining from murder or thievery, the right livelihood to support this way, the right endeavors, the right mindfulness in realizing what the body is and what it requires of us, and the right rapture of concentration to find aloofness that removes us from our bodies and its desires.

This path is centered on the principle of “Ahimsa;” the principle of nonviolence toward all living things. But when one looks back at this plan, it is clear that a successful leader may struggle to stick to it. But this does not mean the ideal should be abandoned completely. An American leader can, and should, embrace this ideal and strive to implement it in all aspects of his life. But he must also be aware of the fact that he may not always achieve perfect Ahimsa.

A leader is someone who can take charge when charge needs to be taken; someone who can make the hard decisions when they have to be made; someone who can take the burdens of an action so others don’t have to. We discussed in a previous class the idea that one cannot live a life entirely of service and still be successful. When one acts and functions for other people, always making decisions in others’ best interests, we are walked over, ignored, and forgotten. A leader who is acting for other people is not grounded in what is necessary for the group, task, or situation at hand. But to lead in this sense goes against many steps in the 8-fold path. A leader is taking on suffering, rather than abandoning it. A leader is making decisions that could be against the desires of a portion a group, thus causing them harm – but these are the decisions necessary to advance the organization or group.

Most divergent from the Buddhist ideals and Ahimsa, leadership in the American sense is fulfilling a desire of the body rather than a desire of the soul. The aim of American leadership is not to eliminate suffering but to find success. To Americans, economic, financial, and leadership successes are thought to eliminate suffering. However, in Buddhist teachings, these successes are what we must eliminate to reach enlightenment for these are the things that bring us suffering. Buddhist leaders are to help followers eliminate the aspects, thus the principle of Ahimsa.

Rather than attempt to change the practices of American society and align them with the Buddhist teachings in order to achieve proper Ahimsa, American leaders can attempt to adapt the Buddhist ideals of Ahimsa and meld them to American practices. They can work to eliminate most suffering – they can embrace the Buddhist ideals and work with Buddhist intentions while working towards American achievement and success. Thus, the damages and suffering cause by the American way of life can be minimized.

The truth is that someone, or something, will always get hurt if we play by the rules (or lack of rules) in American society. It’s a similar case to the fight for political correctness – it’s nigh impossible. When take out all religious connotations of the Holidays, the Holidays themselves lose their meaning. The non-religious may be satisfied, but the religious feel suppressed. Either way there is harm. It may not be physical harm like a broken limb but, rather, a psychological harm like a broken soul. But we can seek to reduce this damage by recognizing that our way of life causes suffering and seeking to reduce it – even if we can’t remove it completely while still leading successfully.

Wisdom from the Leaders of Dow Corning

I learned so much from the Dow leaders with whom we spoke that I had a hard time pulling out an ultimate “take home” idea.

Something Tim Dyste said really stuck out to me – he highlighted the importance of finding your joy, which, to him, meant finding what you love to do and what you do best. It seemed to echo the ideas of Aristotle that I held so highly after our initial class discussion.

Aristotle, in addition to his prescription of a balance life, preached the importance of Eudaimonia, which is happiness earned from doing well that which you enjoy doing. “Human Flourishing” has been a commonly accepted translation of the word.

It makes sense, though. How can one flourish if he is constantly going to a job that he does not enjoy? How can one flourish if he is beaten down by the system day in and day out? If the system—the job; the leadership—does not encourage him to grow, thrive, and influence change…how can he do the same for his organization and his followers?

As we learned in the leadership theory portion of the Roberts Fellows Seminar, leadership is dynamic. It often requires a leader to analyze many different followers and many different situations in order to best handle the task in front of you. It deals with people, decisions, environments, the past, and the future. Although it may not be a high and lofty, unattainable ideal, it is in the very least a challenge.

The leaders of Dow reflected this idea. They discussed situations in which managing conflict amongst employees was a major challenge. Sometimes the hardship was recognizing the problem; sometimes the hardship was living with the problem long enough to truly understand it. They discussed situations in which communication was challenging. There is a language barrier when working in international situations as well as a cultural barrier. Sometimes the words simply didn’t exist or were unknown. Sometimes the Dow leaders didn’t know when they needed to be explicit or implicit. Sometimes employees were simply afraid to participate or communicate, or disagree because it was disrespectful in their traditional cultures. Most importantly, the Dow leaders discussed the challenge of continuous curiosity and awareness. They worked in new cultures and wanted to learn about what these cultures had to offer and why they functioned the way they did. They needed to continuously ask questions and talk to employees and learn in order to succeed.

How can a leader expect to take charge of these challenges develop and execute solutions with success, and remain open to the culture and the humanity of the organization if they are not in love with and excited about their job? Without passion and joy for what one is doing the actions would become lifeless and mechanical, possibly controlling and menacing. The human aspect to the job would be lost as it would become a necessity rather than a choice. The Eudaimonia of which Aristotle wrote is essential to dynamic, successful leadership.

Further, I believe achieving this Eudaimonia is half the battle—but also a challenged that was highlighted for us by the leaders of Dow.

It was mentioned by each of the panelist that we cannot set in stone the path that we plan to take. None of the leaders with whom we spoke were working in the field in which they got their degree. They had all made a plan and worked their way through that plan and willingly ended up in a completely different destination – and each of them was happy.

The strongest example was Bridget Sparrow. She spoke jokingly of her first plan: she never, ever wanted to work in the United Kingdom. Of course, she did end up living and working there. When she got there, she re-worked her plan: She didn’t want to stay for longer than a year and would never, ever marry and English man. Of course, she stayed for 23 years and married an English man. She continued to say that Shanghai was also not on her plan, but, of course, she worked there and loved and wouldn’t have changed a thing.

It is important to have a plan as it gives us motivation to keep working. It gives us a guideline of how to prepare and what we should be doing. But in the end, we may not have had the best idea of which plan we should actually follow. If we force ourselves in to a box and create tunnel vision for where we want to go, we will be unhappy with the result as we did not search inside ourselves and really find that one thing that makes us the most happy. When we allow our lives to be shaped by our plans and our paths, we allow ourselves to grow, change, and be just as dynamic as the leadership we hope to someday achieve.

When we really live our lives, we find our own Eudaimonia and we can then become true leaders.

A Place for Ruthlessness in Leadership (Or Not)

As we discussed Shih Huang Ti (a leader who ended the warring states and unified China through ruthlessness to the point of cruelty) and Han Feizi (a Chinese philosopher who prescribed this method), the question arose as to whether it is appropriate to be stern or cruel in order to gain power as a leader.

I have a very hard time accepting the idea that it is okay for leaders to be openly cruel to their followers. Though not a pacifist, I am a firm believer in communication before conflict, collaboration, and philanthropy. As a Humanist, I believe that we develop ethical values from human need and human interest; that fulfillment in life is achieved through service and humane ideals; and that we find meaning in relationships and thus working to benefit society (and these relationships) brings us happiness. Although I am not flawless in my actions, I am passionate about people and try my hardest to act in order to protect them from or help them through harm rather that put them through it.

This is not to say that we should be calm, collected, kind people, free of anger and harshness at all times (let’s remember my support of Aristotle in his prescription for balance in every human character). It is to say that I believe we can be too harsh or not harsh enough depending on what best serves humanity.

Unfortunately, this can be a fine line to draw as the definition of what “best serves humanity” may not be universal. For me, best serving humanity requires a leader to aim to develop followers, not aim for material power. This adds a form of depth to his leadership process. The goal should not be power, but empowerment.

A professor in the management department used an example from his work experience to demonstrate the importance of policy and follow through. In order to provide the best service for the customer, his policy was that if an employee ever neglected a customer, he would be fired. The situation in which a customer was dissatisfied resulted in an analysis of the employee’s interaction with the customer; when it was determined that the employee neglected the customer, her was fired. This proved that the manager was serious. After the first customer-neglecting employee was fired, it didn’t happen again.

I believe that this is an acceptable action for a leader. I do not think it was excessive or cruel, but simply necessary for the company to function as it should. Analysis of the situation with the employee and the customer showed care for the employee, the customer, and the company. The process was not done to instill fear but, rather, to set a standard and a work ethic. The manager’s policy created an environment that was controlled but empowering.

In the case of Shih Huang Ti, cruelty was enforced to show power and to show who was in charge. It was meant to subdue followers rather than rein them in so that the leader could help them succeed better. Rather than develop future leaders or empower people—rather than help humanity—the cruel leadership of Shih Huang Ti built power for the current leader so that China could be powerful, no matter the human cost. Shih Huang Ti’s own son wasn’t even empowered as a leader and was overthrown. The success of the power was purely on the surface; a material success. It is this abuse of power that is not justified in leadership.

On Aristotle and the Character of Leaders

We have been asked (on a few separate occasions) to analyze the role ethics plays in leadership, what kind of character we expect from our leaders, what our own values are, and even the importance of being ethical as opposed to simply appearing so. As we continue to discuss these ideas in class, I keep returning to the idea of balance. This week, my thoughts were echoed by the words of Aristotle, and, as I prepared for the weeks ahead, Gautama Siddhartha Buddha.

As Ciulla points out in her introduction to Chapter Two, although leaders are human and “subject to the same flaws and weaknesses as everyone else,” we often expect them to be more ethical and have higher standards. She continues, explaining how we often view leaders of the past as meeting these perceptions while leaders of today continuously fail us; and we wonder why that is. As we see more of these flaws and our leaders continue to fail us, it seems more and more that leaders do not necessarily need to just traits and ethical character that we desire. How can we continue to expect ethical leadership?

Again, I tell you, the answer is balance.

Aristotle outlines the requirements for a virtuous life using this idea. We must not be fearful or rash, but brave; we must not indulge in pleasure or expect pain, but find temperance; we must not be wasteful or greedy, but generous; we must not be passive or irascible, but mild; we must not be boastful or self-deprecating, but truthful; we must not be ingratiating or flattering, but friendly; we must not be ashamed or disgraceful, but virtuous; we must not be spiteful or envious, but indignant; and the list goes on. It even continues levels of character pertaining to intelligence and wisdom. Each character describes an excess of a trait, a deficiency of a trait, and then desired mean. Each person falls somewhere on the scale between the three, but the ideal person is balanced entirely on the means.

Returning to Ciulla’s introduction, the author addresses the point that today there is much more exposure – in the past, we saw only the actions that leaders made public and really had no way of publicizing their flaws. Today, it often only takes the click of a button. She states that leaders of the past and leaders of today were similarly ethical, but that today we see the flaws that, in the past, were hidden.

I think she is on to something.

I think in addition to seeing more we are also expecting more. As we see more and more flaws, we perceive more and more undesirable traits and therefore wish for more and more desirable ones. The misdeeds of current leaders feed our craving for leaders without any flaws. In this fashion, we have tipped the balance that Aristotle instructs us to find. We have, in a sense, blown our idea of leadership out of proportion.

Further, this tipped balance has burned like a wildfire, worsening as we move in to the future without righting the scales. As our expectations of leaders rise, those who wish to lead must try harder to meet our expectations. They try to emulate perfect virtue – they must not lie, cheat, steal, abuse power, exercise anger, or be upset. They must be passionate, honest, reasonable, caring, and collaborative. They must be interested in people and never interested in themselves. They must have no flaws. However, this character that aspiring leaders strive for is out of balance, according to Aristotle. It requires too much of people and, frankly, they are wearing out.

How long can you continue to never give in to your desires, instead sacrificing to your followers in order to be the perfect person? The answer: not very long. This is when we begin to find flaws. Leaders reach breaking point as they succeed as leaders and they give in to a craving or exercise an indulgence. They let loose.

But to maintain the respect of followers and continue to succeed, leaders continue to attempt to appear ethical; they indulge in secret. But, due to the higher levels of exposure, we catch them. We accuse them of unethical behavior and mark them as failed leaders, continuing to wish for the leaders of the past.

The system is out of balance and will remain out of balance until we are aware of the situation and take the time to set it back on track. This, however, will take a lot of time, analysis, and effort as we are all guilty.

In conclusion, I do not think it is important for leaders to fulfill society’s definition ethical behavior all the time – they do not have to be saintly people completely clean of flaws. Instead, they must be rational, honest, and reasonable about themselves, their lives, their goals, and the organization they are leading. They must understand the balance between ethics, risk, and reality. If leaders (and followers) are able to find this balance, it will not be a matter of appearing versus actually acting ethically – we will accept that as humans we are flawed but are still capable of making balanced decisions and ethical actions for the good of the organization.