CARE, SHARE, DARE AND DANCE

Earlier today I briefly took part in UNGEI’s team retreat. The UN’s Girls’ Education Initiative (UNGEI) is a pearl – a real hidden gem within the UN system. I love it because it doesn’t stop at counting how many girls enter or even graduate from school. It works to embed gender equality in all aspects of the education system, from textbooks, curriculum, teacher training, the physical school environment, policy, and leadership. Its activities are genuinely transformative, and nothing less is what the world needs.

I was humbled and honoured to be asked to kick off their team retreat with reflections on collective feminist leadership. But what value could I add? They had asked me to share my personal experiences, but how could I move the conversation from ‘me’ to ‘we’ – a central element of the collective feminist leadership approach? And in truth, I am not able to describe single points of failure or success or give a practical how-to guide for introducing this leadership approach. I am still unlearning much of what I was brought up to believe, and I consider myself a student rather than a teacher. I’ve therefore decided – in the spirit of the paradigm shift we seek – to share today’s kick-off reflections in this article and invite readers to enhance the value of the input so we together can support and give positive energy to the UNGAI team and to everyone else seeking to break the dominant leadership paradigms.

I have come across many definitions and principles that define collective feminist leadership. I am convinced that authentic collective leadership is feminist leadership, and I choose not to make a distinction between them. At the heart of collective leadership lies a fundamental truth: we are imperfect humans, and no one has all the answers. Herein lies the transformative power of the approach. And to simplify, dispense from jargon, and help us all remember that leadership is actions and not positions, I have come to think about it as an approach where we care, share, dare and dance.

But before I unpack these four words, let me share that attempting to practice feminist leadership has been the most challenging and rewarding journey I have been on in my life. When I, at age 30, accepted the position of Deputy Resident Representative for the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) in Indonesia, I was given supervisor responsibilities and believed this made me a leader. Had I dared use the word, I would probably have called myself a feminist leader. Little did I know. Today, I am in no formal position of power, and I dare claim that I am a feminist leader or at least an apprentice leader.

To care

To care has more than one meaning and I mean all of them. To be concerned, interested, and give importance to. To give a damn. To look after and protect the rights of the people we work with and ourselves. To care enough to see people around us in all their diversity. To be curious about what cultural, gender, race, ability, sexuality, and other differences mean for a person’s appetite to lead.

It means caring enough to sit with the discomfort of my white power and unearned privilege. To work with my white fragility and continuously ask for feedback in any shape or form to address my unconscious biases, oversights and weaknesses. In the beginning, this was incredibly hard and I had to deal with fear, embarrassment, and denial. I may have given up or despaired had it not been for the nudging and caring of my brave sister of another mother, Mariama Deschamps, the Global Safeguarding Director at Plan International. 

Embracing collective feminist leadership starts at the inner level. I believe the journey is helping me accept my imperfections, build resilience, support my understanding that there is no face to save, and consequently help me leave my ego at the door – paving the way for collective learning and action. 

I’ve asked Mariama if I could mention her pivotal role in my learning because she built the bridge I needed and wanted to cross and fostered co-learning and collective care. Collective care means that each of us is responsible to the collective. It’s our responsibility to ask for help when we don’t know what to do. And it’s our responsibility to care about staff wellbeing and growth. You will never walk alone.

To share

Different from my early days as a manager, where I was determined to prove myself by working twenty hours a day and sacrificing my family and health on the all-important career ladder, I have come to appreciate how collective leadership improves outcomes and unleashes trust and leadership power across an organisation. I now realise, that I have led better when I gave up some leadership to make space for others. When I gave up the need to try to know everything and when I accepted not only my imperfections but also the imperfections of others. I have practiced sharing my position and giving space for others to represent, take early responsibility, take risks and get to know an organisation from every vantage point. Together with other leaders, we recently co-created a strategy and organisational structure by ensuring that all staff led parts of the design and walked in each other’s shoes. In this way, the outcome was more fully owned and everyone got to know different aspects of the organisation. This understanding allowed us to unleash extra leadership power at all levels. 

I’ve also experienced that sometimes those who have been given space to lead are reticent to exercise it. Caring is needed again because we must look into why a person doesn’t want to use their leadership: “Is it a fear of making decisions? Of making a mistake? Of giving critique? Of expressing emotion/opinion? It’s necessary to include not only the gender perspective but also the inter-generational and intersectional perspective in this exploration.

To dare

Daring implies personal courage to act and the will to defy and challenge the status quo. It might also be helpful to say that it is not about sacrifice and heroics. It’s about daring to be radically transparent and trusting and confronting superwoman.

A wonderful colleague and friend once gave me a superwoman t-shirt. I know she meant well. She celebrated my ability to hold down a successful job, take care of my home and family, and run a few marathons. Something she also did herself. But if we are to make a genuine break from the more patriarchal leadership model, also this superhuman needs to go. We need to focus more on collective than individual achievement. Therefore, we must dare to change our performance and belief systems.

A key element of collective feminist leadership is developing shared trust and transparency. And the leader with the most formal power has to take the first many steps. I remember feeling exposed and scared – and in a few cases being taken advantage of. I have been fortunate to see the exponential benefits that come with it. Despite this, I have experienced how trust and transparency have clashed with compliance cultures and traditional top-down hierarchical thinking. Navigating the blowback and standing for your beliefs takes courage.

Possibly the most challenging thing of all is overcoming the fear of failure. As I started out saying neither I nor anyone else I have found has the handbook for the journey that comes with introducing collective feminist leadership and there is no guarantee of success. Like many roads less travelled, it takes courage to give it a whirl.

To dance

And talking about giving it a whirl – let’s dance.

Feminist leadership is hard to practice without an entire whole of organisation, society, employee and citizen mindset shift because it subverts the more traditional rules of authoritarian or change leadership, which are based on expecting one individual alone to steer, motivate, care and be accountable.

We must learn to walk or dance on a knife-edge between the traditional and the new. Picking up the best from both while not losing sight of the prize. I have often felt that I had to practice my leadership approach under the radar – making me think of limbo dancing. Better limbo than tame, I say.

And as I sit here with this beautiful group of rebels wanting to transform and even revolutionize education systems, I recall an excellent book that all activists must read, titled ‘what is the point of revolution, if we can’t dance?’ by Jane Barry and Jelena Djordjevic. 

The roots of collective feminist leadership reach far back in history and outside the Western hemispheres. As I honour this, I also want to end by paying homage to the book with the beautiful title that makes everyone I know smile and that some 15 years ago sowed the seed for better self-care and leadership in the social justice sector. The love and passion for our work and humanity must take centre stage – so for goodness sake – remember to dance. Dance a lot and enjoy the upcoming holiday season.

First published on 8 December 2022.