"A man who wants to lead the orchestra must turn his back on the crowd."
--Max Lucado
In my last post, I wrote about loneliness in our culture and in my work. I always felt a specific sense of loneliness when I was leading (either by title or by action). Some of it was definitely my sense that if things went wrong, it would all be on me. That wasn’t all of it though.
There seems to be some consensus that leaders feel lonely. This is even more true among women leaders and especially among women of color in leadership roles. My internet search revealed no shortage of articles on the leadership and loneliness phenomenon. The thinking is that because leaders do not have meaningful social connections at work, they feel lonelier.
Some of my most lonely leadership experiences involved leadership during crises. In recent years, the COVID-19 pandemic created moments of intense loneliness. As a Montessori school administrator, I was connected to Montessori leaders throughout the world. Before we had even experienced COVID-19 in the U.S., I was leaning on those colleagues to look toward what was coming. As I attempted to prepare our school, even those teachers who were closest to me had conversations about whether I was crazy to be spending so much time on something that would likely never face our school
Once things shut down, we were called upon to make unpopular decisions quickly. Our entire school community—our Board, our staff, our students, and our parents had different ideas for what we could and should do during that shutdown. Their voices got even louder as we discussed what was needed to re-open.
I like to think of myself as well-prepared. Our school had a robust crisis-management plan. But, that plan never contemplated re-opening while the crisis was still going. In our planning, we thought of crises as short-lived events that we would survive and then regroup to come back together.
This crisis continued for two years. Every week (and sometimes every day and every hour) brought decision-making that affected others. I made decisions during that time that were often unpopular, but the reasons they were unpopular were not consistent among groups. Groups of people thought I was overly strict and closed-minded. Other groups thought that I was not prioritizing safety highly enough or being cautious enough. People I was close to formed coalitions to vocalize their discontent.
In short, this time was miserably lonely. I was between a rock and a hard place. It didn’t matter who was “right”. In fact, seeking certainty and data only led to more confusion. Empathy and trying to understand different perspectives led to a muddled mess where everyone had an opinion and they all went different directions!
At the same time, I had as many social connections as the rest of us during that time of Zoom cocktail hours. I was just as connected as anyone else. If we use those friendships and connections to measure loneliness, my measures were pretty good. But, I felt so isolated.
Recently, I read a book that helped me understand this time better. Colleagues recommended Edwin H. Friedman’s The Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix . I wish I had read this book so much earlier in my life. It answers the loneliness of leadership question so well.
Friedman states that leaders will inevitably be faced with crises. Some crises come from within the system, and some are foisted upon leaders. Leaders who are not self-differentiated will be reactive, eroding boundaries between the leader and others.
They will value togetherness and function to soothe rather than challenge. Non-effective leaders will move toward weakness by seeking to blame (usually someone or something external to the system). They will focus on safety rather than on adventure. This will cause leaders to seek a quick fix perhaps through seeking more data and information (in pursuit of certainty) or by focusing on technique (focusing on leadership skills, training, etc.).
Self-differentiated leaders will remain non-anxious, set boundaries, challenge people to focus on strength and responsibility, and be clear about what the higher challenge is. This is rarely a quick fix. More often, it is painful, takes people out of the realm of comfort, goes against the grain of popular theory—e.g., data and technique. Worse, it takes time and requires a leader to hold people in that state of discomfort for a while. A self-differentiated leader can do this because they know that their identity is not found through others. Instead, it is found through clear boundaries with others and remaining consistent with their own values.
When a self-differentiated leader functions in this way, the result is usually challenge and sabotage from those around them. Anyone who functions in this space (even for a short while) is bound to be lonely. The people close to them are those within the system—family members, colleagues, and teammates. And those very same people will be the saboteurs for leadership—not because they are malevolent but because they seek comfort either through remaining in the status quo or by blaming the need for change on the leader (instead of on the system in which they participate).
This is why coaching and mentoring mean so much to me. During crises like COVID-19, coaches and mentors helped simply by holding space for me and walking alongside me. They couldn’t take away the loneliness of leadership. But, those coaches and mentors helped me remain solidly in touch with reality—even the painful parts. Even years later, I am grateful that they helped me find belonging even in lonely places.
I hope that you have wonderful coaches and mentors to walk together with you also!
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