Reflecting on Personal Leadership

Rod Paynter

With the idea that we are all teachers, if only by virtue of the modeling that we do through our behaviours, it can be said that I’ve been teaching leadership since I was a youngster.  As the oldest of six children I had more than ample opportunity to experientially explore the privileges, rights, responsibilities and hazards of leadership.  Certainly leadership in the context of my siblings had its attractions.  Power and prestige were fun!  The responsibilities of leadership were not so attractive.  “Take care of your little brother!” usually translated into loss of autonomy, and I sure liked my autonomy.  I often sincerely wished that my younger siblings would learn to take care of themselves, as, somehow, I had done.  I now know that I didn’t invent my self-care skills on my own.  I was actively mentored by my parents and by others who saw my potential.  I was raised as a secular humanist and as a leader, after the manner of my father. 

 

As with other sorts of life lessons, lessons in leadership keep coming my way in various guises until I learn them.  At the age of ten I idly speculated in a friend’s presence that I would pick him to be my seconder (corporal) in a cub pack six (squad) once I was promoted to sixer (sergeant).   With no recollection of saying that, I picked someone else when the time came.  My friend’s mom called my mom and said that my friend was sobbing his heart out because I’d broken my promise and shattered his hopes.  35 years later I idly speculated with a friend/fellow Life Skills coach/fellow employee about training Life Skills coaches with her some day.  A year later I organized a training, and with no recollection of having had the conversation with my friend, hired someone else to work with me.  My colleague became my bitter enemy within the organization and it was another year before I found out what was wrong.  I made the connection between these events, and as part of my ongoing process of building coherence into my life and style resolved to pay much closer attention to my promises, whether explicit or implied. 

 

From this small sample it seems that adults and children harbour similar dreams, wishing to advance in experience in the company of capable friends.  As a lifelong leader and capable friend I’ve organized countless ventures and adventures, and I wonder now how many other friends I’ve carelessly left in the dust of their aspirations because they took seriously that which I did not (I just remembered another one).  Sometimes I think that I’ve ridden the pendulum to the other extreme, and am now so conscientious about following through on commitments that I put undue pressure on those who don’t take agreements as seriously as I do (or perhaps who have a different understanding of what we’d agreed to!).  I hope that I don’t get so attached to my aspirations that I let my own disappointment and resentment poison what might otherwise continue to be good relationships.

 

My struggle now is to give space for understanding and misunderstanding, to honour and value my friendships in spite of whatever contractual disappointments I may feel or inspire.  My leadership initiatives aren’t always what others wish to undertake, and I mustn’t mistake their humouring me for enthusiasm and agreement. 

 

Oh I hope I’ve learned that lesson!

 

I’ve worked for nearly two decades as a Life Skills coach and coach trainer, modeling and teaching personal and group leadership skills.  In the last few years I’ve explicitly brought into my life and curriculum the concept of not taking things personally, of receiving the things that people say and do as information to be assessed, and as revelation about the other rather than being about me.  I teach this in the knowledge that I’ve transgressed my own lesson and likely will do so again.  However good I get at the skill, I will still from time to time not use it.  I will allow my feelings to be hurt.  The trick then becomes recovery, a different and equally valuable skill.  Regaining my balance while in an emotional storm requires insight, perspective, humility.  The wiser I get the easier it is to recover.  I’m not very wise yet, so it’s still a big struggle sometimes to centre myself after taking something personally.  I’m working on it.

 

I’ve been doing and teaching leadership since I was a youngster.  I’ve studied leadership, I’ve written on leadership, I have a Masters degree in leadership, and inculcating leadership is likely to be the focus of my EdD dissertation.  Yet I keep discovering such important aspects of leadership that it seems I’m really no sort of expert at all.  It may be that leadership can’t be taught.  Maybe it can only be revealed.   Maybe leadership is inherent in all of us, waiting to be called upon, to be nurtured, to be examined and developed in the light of individual, unique experience.  Maybe the best that I can do as an “inculcator” of leadership is to ask questions, and leave the answers to the leaders with whom I’m working.  I’m working on it.

Return to Table of Contents

Return Home