Big Little Wolf has an interesting and thoughtful post up today: Good driver, bad passenger? She prompts introspection about the need for control and the willingness to take charge, which I think are two related but separate impulses.
My father has always said that dancing with me is like driving a truck. I am a graceless dancer who struggles to let myself be led. Not a big problem, given the paucity of partner dancing in my life. But, still, a metaphor that stays with me. I have a powerful need for control, and it’s one of the things I most dislike about myself. My need for control gets in my way on a regular basis: I choose no over ambiguity, prematurely shutting off options or experiences, I am quickly frustrated when things do not go my way, and I avoid activities that would require me to release the reins and surrender to them (eating “scary” foods like oysters, riding roller coasters).
None of these are pretty qualities, I know that. But I thought further about what BLW was saying, and realized that while I crave control over my life, when it comes to actively taking control in a group setting I’m much more wary. I remembered something specific from my time at business school (a time of my life I so rarely think about!) It was the first semester of my first year, and we were assigned a small group project. I have no idea what the project was, but I remember that my group of about 6 people from my section was clustered into one of the round tables in the window alcoves of Aldrich late into the afternoon. As the sun set, people grew cantankerous and wanted to be finished. Again, I have no memory of the content but I know that I, infuriated with what felt like a waste of time and a lack of clear direction, started taking charge of the conversation and setting forth specific plans for the group.
I don’t remember what happened from there, though I vividly recall myself stepping into a leadership role on that dark afternoon. The next week, project behind us, one of the men in my group, a much older guy with years of impressive military service pulled me aside after class.
“Can I give you some feedback?” he asked. What was I supposed to say?
“Sure,” I said, nervous and feeling like something bad was coming.
He went on to deliver some criticism in the guise of feedback about the way I had assumed control of the group’s workplan and efforts. I blinked back tears as I listened to him, and then fled to my apartment over an Italian food store and cried for hours. I’m sure he had many good points, though of course I can’t remember them. That day comes back to me a lot, though.
When I think about the ways in which I am loath to be visibly in charge, I often wonder why. Is it some kind of gender conditioning that makes me believe that women should sit back and be quiet? I don’t think so, at least not consciously. Is it fear of putting myself out there, into a position where I might attract more criticism like the early HBS experience? Maybe. That feels closer to why. Is it a deep feeling that someone else would do a better job at leading? Maybe. That feels like it could be why as well.
It strikes me that this could be the worst possible combination: to be as rigid and in need of control as I am, yet to be unwilling to expose myself by taking an active leadership role … isn’t this the worst of both worlds? I don’t like this mix of traits in myself at all, but changing both feels daunting. To let go of my need for control would require that I learn to feel safe in the world. The moments when I do feel safe enough to relax my white-knuckle grip on my life are rare and special, but I don’t know how to make that into a more normal reality. To be brave enough to more often visibly lead also seems intimidating to me: authentic vulnerability is hard for me and doing this creates it.
Don’t know the path out of this particular knot of fabulous personality traits, but perhaps being aware of it is the first step. Thank you, BLW, for making me think yet again.
Well, I don’t blame you on the group project thing. Unless someone takes charge, everyone flails about aimlessly and shuns any kind of responsibility (can you tell that I HATE group projects?)
I tend to be the Alpha Dog in those kind of situations because group projects/staff meetings are a huge time-suck…if someone doesn’t take the reins, those things will last forever and produce zippo.
Which is kind of funny, because normally I sit back and shut my mouth. So I guess we are opposites, but equally strange. 🙂
Back when I was a filmmaker I once had a woman executive at a rather low-rent studio tell me that she wouldn’t even consider me for a directing job because I wasn’t tall enough. She said she needed a big guy with a beard to yell at the crew and get things done on time. I guess I could have gotten some lifts for my shoes and tried to grow a beard, but I tend to think this said more about the executive than about me.
Likewise about a small man who took his own pain and handed it to you. I suppose we all benefit from being aware of our own “issues,” whether they are about fears of being out of control or about hurt.
I appreciate your bravery in authentic sharing—to me this allows more real connectedness and, hopefully, lets us put down our masks and find that we are good enough as we actually are.
Namaste
There is an immense promise in mere awareness, in seeing the knot in the first place.
Oh, I read this so many times so I could form the perfect response. However, the words that I want to say, will not come.
Your bravery, your honesty, your introspection are skillfully included in this eloquent post. I am amazed by your insight.
Lindsey, you seem to look at yourself so well. I find it hard to put out there, for others who may see or “judge,” what I feel many times. I am going to try to be more open in these areas both as I write and in real life.
I wonder sometimes if we need to reframe our language; re-understand our metaphors and our deeply-held beliefs. Dancing with a truck might be a whimsical, not-to-be-missed, once-in-a-lifetime experience. Taking control might be a brave and amazing thing that no one else has the courage to do. Constructive criticism might be more about the insecurity and passive/aggressiveness of the one speaking. “Rigid and in need of control” might be strength, tenacity, and courage. And maybe, just maybe, the very things you most loathe in yourself are the most beautiful and amazing parts of you…just needing new understanding, new words, new vehicles. Maybe a truck?
And I could be totally wrong.
What I do know is that you ask tender, provocative, and profound questions of yourself and therefore each of us. That is a beautiful thing. This is leadership, Lindsey.
Lindsey, we all try to be the perfect combination; compassionate leader, attentive follower. We try never to forget our keys in the car, or to take a wrong turn. But life just isn’t like that, I guess.
And I have to say, as an outsider looking in at your HBS story — it’s the rare woman leader who can get something done effectively AND retain the admiration of the (older) men in any group. Chalk that one up to experience, and next time, don’t hesitate to step up. Do you think he never got chopped down when he stepped up?
I’m sure you did a good job, and I’m equally sure that he did a crummy job more than once in his leadership career. The difference between him/them and you/us? We learned sometime early on to care just a little too much what other people think.