Many of you know that I was a Parks and Recreation Director for thirty years. In my last position I worked for the epitome of a cowardly leader, and he (plus a few others) were the inspiration for the www.cowardlyleadership.com website and series of posts.
After this “leader” asked me to leave my last job, with the sum total of explanation being, “We’ve decided to go in another direction,” the bitter taste influenced me into not wanting to insert myself back into the political world again, and instead focus on consulting.
Why Now
I haven’t written a leadership blog post in over a year, but during the pandemic I’ve witnessed several examples of cowardly leadership. I also found myself more and more often saying to those cowering in their office, “Stand up and be a leader.”
Well OK, fine. To be accurate, I said it to myself, about those cowardly leaders unwilling to make decisions, but second-guessing cowardly decisions has become somewhat commonplace in that psychedelic world also known as my brain.
I’ve been having more and more internal ping-pong matches regarding what I would be doing if I were a Director again. How I would communicate better than what I’m witnessing. How I would identify the stars of the team (and every team has stars) and put them in positions of importance, regardless of if it fit their exact job description. How I would commit to the best practices of the profession and ensure they were incorporated throughout the organization. On and on…
Those internal discussions were the catalyst for the Theodore Roosevelt quote at the beginning of this. It’s a great quote– if you’re not familiar with it in its entirety, I’m sure you’ve heard or read at least part, usually the line that says, “The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena.” And although that is true, it misses a couple of other points he makes that are just as salient. In my opinion, even more so. In fact, in the recitation above, take notice of the line that is the largest of all and is in all capitals: “WHO STRIVES VALIANTLY.”
For what good is being in the arena if you, or I, are not willing to strive valiantly? To stand up to cowardice, or ignorance, and often, stupidity? Nowhere in Roosevelt’s quote does he suggest to stand in the arena and accept being pummeled. In fact, he emphasizes the exact opposite of that:
“who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails by daring greatly.”
Those are two very powerful words, daring greatly. If you don’t remember anything else about this post, or about Roosevelt’s quote, I hope you’ll always remember to dare greatly. Because anyone, with no ambition, no passion, and no investment, can accept a political appointment and sit in a seat of authority and be a what I call “pass-through agent.” When told to jump by their boss, these pretenders merely ask, “how high?” and then pass on the directives to the staff. That takes no courage and no daring. It most certainly has nothing to do with leadership.
I Miss It
Roosevelt’s quote begins with the line many people recognize: “It’s not the critic who counts.” I couldn’t agree more. In this era of social media everywhere at once, critics are ubiquitous. It is easy to criticize from the outside. But I’ve been on the inside, several different times in fact.
To be clear, I don’t miss everything. I don’t miss all the night meetings. I don’t miss the budget battles. I don’t miss the fake deference to elected officials who have no clue what we do or how we do it, but think they know more because of their elected office.
What I do miss– more than anything else– is what cowardly leaders never care to do. I miss fighting for my staff– my people. Seeing them grow as leaders in their own right. Watching the really talented ones rise to the top, knowing that they will eventually lead a larger organization and influence many others due to their talent, and knowing I had a small part in that. Working with a team, getting their input, hearing their ideas, putting the best ones together to create the plan, or the program, or the special event, or the policy, and then implementing whatever “it” is without asking permission, because I know that’s my job and that is why I was hired.
I miss winning the state and national awards, and seeing staff being recognized for great work. I miss the satisfaction of receiving national accreditation, or recognition by the governor. I miss the respect from peers, colleagues sand citizens that these awards and certifications earn us.
And– I miss the challenge. I miss speaking truth to power (probably a little too much to be perfectly honest). Asking why we have to paint the building pink. Or why we have to ignore our own written policies that have already been approved and adopted. Or why I have to hire someone from the Mayor’s staff after we’ve already gone through the HR hiring procedure and made a different recommendation. I miss all the frustrations that come with sitting in a leadership chair. Not a lot, but I do miss those a little, too.
I miss daring greatly.
I miss being in the arena.
