Carrying The Burden Of Leadership
Author John C. Maxwell once said that “A leader is one who knows the way, goes the way, and shows the way.” I disagree with this premise and I suggest that often times a leader is someone who “finds their way (often into the unknown), learns from the way they’ve chosen, and then shares their experience to help others to find their way.”
A good leader has the integrity to do what is right, not necessarily because of some deep innate morality, but rather because of a moral compass that has been carefully crafted over many years of learning. Learning that has come through trial and error, through choosing both right and wrong, and through the wisdom of others.
I had the privilege of learning the responsibilities of leadership at a very early age.
I was 13, and I had just been made patrol leader over some younger boy scouts in troop 279 of the Cherokee Area Council in Tennessee. My first responsibility as a new patrol leader was to help 3 younger scouts earn their hiking skill award by taking them on a 5 mile hike. It is on this hike, that I made a decision that changed my life forever.
It was the middle of a hot and humid August in the rolling hills around Cleveland, Tennessee, and we had set up our basecamp at the edge of a cow pasture next to a small streaming creek. The only things worse than the heat that day were the mosquitoes, which swarmed around our bodies like a hungry football team at a buffet. Sweat rolled from our matted hair and flowed down our brows as we hiked with our backpacks along the back country roads.
After about two miles I turned to the three scouts under my supervision and said, “I have plan to save us some time and a couple of miles if you guys are up for it, and promise not to tell?”
The young scouts eagerly agreed to my plan to cut corners and listened intently to what I had to say.
“If I am correct we can cut across this field to the top of that hill over there, and basecamp should be at the bottom of that hill. So instead of walking 5 miles, we will only have to walk about 3 miles, and everyone will be amazed at how quickly we were able to get done.”
We crawled through a barbed wire fence and quickly found ourselves at the top of the hill. We stared down into the field below, but our camp was nowhere in sight.
“Sorry guys, I think it is actually on the other side of that hill over there.” I said boldly.
So we marched down the hill and then up the other hill. We repeated this process three times before finally, hours later; our tents could be seen in the valley. We started down the hill until we came to a large manure pasture the size of a football field and from all appearances about a foot deep. Large grassy hills sat to each side of us, which would allow us to circumvent the smelly mess before us. I walked over to a barbed wire fence to crawl through to safety. As I grabbed the fence, ZAP! Volts of electricity coursed through my body. The fence was electrified. I fell to the ground and woke up a few minutes later with three scared scouts screaming my name.
I got to my feet and was forced to face the truth. We were going to have go through the field of manure. We trudged through the oozing layers which rose just above our ankles and were half way across when we heard a scream from behind.
“Stop! I’ve lost my shoe and I can’t find it.” The newest member of our troop was on all fours searching for his lost shoe. I couldn’t help but laugh at his predicament and started over to help him find his shoe. As I got over there he jumped up triumphantly holding a gooey mess that somewhat resembled a shoe. “I found it!”
Little did he know that in his celebration he had knocked backwards to the ground. I stood up covered from head to toe in dripping manure. We struggled through the field, each of us falling again and again, until finally we emerged from the other side and entered our campsite. Our scout leader and the older Eagle Scouts had been searching for us for a couple of hours, while everyone else had started packing up the site. My brilliant shortcut had ended in disaster. After eight miles of hiking we were exhausted, and we washed off what we could in the stream.
I failed my patrol that day. I failed each one of those younger scouts who looked to me for guidance. I learned from that day forward not to cut corners and to lead with integrity. As I got older, I learned that working smarter and harder held many rewards, but that the greatest rewards came from helping others to avoid my mistakes. True leaders may falter, they may even want to give up, but they persist, not for themselves, but for those who have placed their trust and faith in them.
Whether you are a business analyst, an aspiring author, or a stay at home mom, I would exhort you to persevere. Learn from your mistakes and share what you learn. Your experience, your life is valuable. It is valuable to your friends, it is valuable to those you work with, it is valuable to your family, and it is valuable to each of us. I would ask each of you to share your life and your special qualities with others, to learn from my experience, and to lead with integrity, faith, and a genuine love for those around you.
A good leader has the integrity to do what is right, not necessarily because of some deep innate morality, but rather because of a moral compass that has been carefully crafted over many years of learning. Learning that has come through trial and error, through choosing both right and wrong, and through the wisdom of others.
I had the privilege of learning the responsibilities of leadership at a very early age.
I was 13, and I had just been made patrol leader over some younger boy scouts in troop 279 of the Cherokee Area Council in Tennessee. My first responsibility as a new patrol leader was to help 3 younger scouts earn their hiking skill award by taking them on a 5 mile hike. It is on this hike, that I made a decision that changed my life forever.
It was the middle of a hot and humid August in the rolling hills around Cleveland, Tennessee, and we had set up our basecamp at the edge of a cow pasture next to a small streaming creek. The only things worse than the heat that day were the mosquitoes, which swarmed around our bodies like a hungry football team at a buffet. Sweat rolled from our matted hair and flowed down our brows as we hiked with our backpacks along the back country roads.
After about two miles I turned to the three scouts under my supervision and said, “I have plan to save us some time and a couple of miles if you guys are up for it, and promise not to tell?”
The young scouts eagerly agreed to my plan to cut corners and listened intently to what I had to say.
“If I am correct we can cut across this field to the top of that hill over there, and basecamp should be at the bottom of that hill. So instead of walking 5 miles, we will only have to walk about 3 miles, and everyone will be amazed at how quickly we were able to get done.”
We crawled through a barbed wire fence and quickly found ourselves at the top of the hill. We stared down into the field below, but our camp was nowhere in sight.
“Sorry guys, I think it is actually on the other side of that hill over there.” I said boldly.
So we marched down the hill and then up the other hill. We repeated this process three times before finally, hours later; our tents could be seen in the valley. We started down the hill until we came to a large manure pasture the size of a football field and from all appearances about a foot deep. Large grassy hills sat to each side of us, which would allow us to circumvent the smelly mess before us. I walked over to a barbed wire fence to crawl through to safety. As I grabbed the fence, ZAP! Volts of electricity coursed through my body. The fence was electrified. I fell to the ground and woke up a few minutes later with three scared scouts screaming my name.
I got to my feet and was forced to face the truth. We were going to have go through the field of manure. We trudged through the oozing layers which rose just above our ankles and were half way across when we heard a scream from behind.
“Stop! I’ve lost my shoe and I can’t find it.” The newest member of our troop was on all fours searching for his lost shoe. I couldn’t help but laugh at his predicament and started over to help him find his shoe. As I got over there he jumped up triumphantly holding a gooey mess that somewhat resembled a shoe. “I found it!”
Little did he know that in his celebration he had knocked backwards to the ground. I stood up covered from head to toe in dripping manure. We struggled through the field, each of us falling again and again, until finally we emerged from the other side and entered our campsite. Our scout leader and the older Eagle Scouts had been searching for us for a couple of hours, while everyone else had started packing up the site. My brilliant shortcut had ended in disaster. After eight miles of hiking we were exhausted, and we washed off what we could in the stream.
I failed my patrol that day. I failed each one of those younger scouts who looked to me for guidance. I learned from that day forward not to cut corners and to lead with integrity. As I got older, I learned that working smarter and harder held many rewards, but that the greatest rewards came from helping others to avoid my mistakes. True leaders may falter, they may even want to give up, but they persist, not for themselves, but for those who have placed their trust and faith in them.
Whether you are a business analyst, an aspiring author, or a stay at home mom, I would exhort you to persevere. Learn from your mistakes and share what you learn. Your experience, your life is valuable. It is valuable to your friends, it is valuable to those you work with, it is valuable to your family, and it is valuable to each of us. I would ask each of you to share your life and your special qualities with others, to learn from my experience, and to lead with integrity, faith, and a genuine love for those around you.
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