There has been a lot happening in the world- in addition to my world- and navigating these happenings has felt heavy at times. From institutional changes to caregiving responsibilities, I feel like I’ve been spinning a lot of plates (and each plate is full). Wanting to do and give my best to my work, my family, and my community, while the impacts of invisible disability knock regularly at my door… this has been an exceptionally tough “season”.
Throughout it all, I’ve found that thinking of my life and all the ways I engage in/with it as tied to a collection core guiding principles and values. Starting by identifying what these were for me, and moving to what they look like in practice personally and professionally, has helped me scope my expectations for myself, how I decide to (or not to) take on new projects, and how to measure success. I’m trying hard to move away from thinking about my “performance” and productivity (grounded in capitalism) towards a day-to-day where I’m bringing my whole authentic personhood to the spaces in which I’m invited or have access. This is a snapshot of three of the ideas guiding me in this effort… centering these are what “help me sleep at night” (as my therapist says).
Trust:
I know from my doctoral research, that trust is a key characteristic of groups coming to a place of shared communal wisdom. I also know that my perspectives on trust have shifted as I’ve faced relational trauma and toxic environments, while coming into my own as a parent of two kiddos. I don’t give trust as freely as I used to, and don’t expect others to either… instead I’ve moved toward relational reciprocity. I now understand trust as something to be cultivated and maintained. It takes work, just like most aspects of relationships, but the work is worthwhile.
According to the Center for Creative Leadership research (2017), all components of trust constitute a core need we have as humans; trusting in ourselves, being trusted, and trusting those around us. When present in a team, trust stiches together buy-in around group purpose, goals, and objectives, creating a fabric of collaboration and empowerment. To build (and sustain) this kind of trust, it is crucial to provide meaningful opportunities for folx to connect with one another on a human level. Just as crucial is the understanding that there will be times when trust is compromised, and rebuilding is necessary (after all we’re all human).
Care:
Depending on who I’m talking to, “care” can look very different. To my kids, care looks like “keeping us safe and healthy” (what they know is my “#1 job”) where to my colleagues and collaborators, care is very different. Regardless of who – acting with care requires one to actively listen (listening to understand rather that just respond). Care often requires time and definitely establishment of welcoming spaces. Care is community. Care is compassion + action, letting humanity drive the way we exist and operate with and amongst one another. We should consider approaching all with a commitment to caring; ourselves and others.
Dr. Catherine Denial, author of “A Pedagogy of Kindness” (2024), very eloquently captures what I’ve come to know and experience (if only I had read her book first). “Our access to care—even self-care—is knowingly limited by people who understand their privileges to be dependent upon denying others the material, emotional, social, and spiritual space they need. In the academy this is reflected in matters like the move to contingency; in the loss of lines in departments and programs that ask hard questions about equity and inclusion (like gender and women’s studies, Latinx studies, and African American studies); and in tolerance of sexual harassment, abuse, and assault” (p17).
Congruence:
Growing up, I heard relatives regularly pick up the phrase “they talk the talk but do they walk the walk” to point out the way what a person says aligns with how they act. Now whether they picked the phrase up from casual conversation or the movie Apocalypse Now, I came to understand that “walking the walk” was the most important part of the phrase from an onlooker (or impacted persons’) perspective. Congruence in my practice means that I am doing what I say I’ll do, that my actions are in alignment with what I say is important to me, that (going back to my opening of this piece) I can sleep at night knowing that I showed up in ways I’ve promised to my community.
Congruence is one of the seven “C’s” of the Social Change Model for Leadership Development. In “Leadership for a Better World” authors Komives and Wagner, with associate Shalka (2017), note that “The ability for individuals to live their lives from places of personal truth [congruence] can bring comfort and strength” (p69) and that “To be a person of Congruence requires dedication and courage. Congruence demands that leaders commit to a process of frequent evaluation and refinement of their intentions, actions, and motives” (p79).
All in all, as you may have gathered, these three guiding principles are interconnected in a way that is quite challenging to parse out in my daily life. Despite that, the work of self-reflection, of naming these things and how they influence the way I keep the plates spinning and my heart beating, has proven to be an extremely valuable practice in my life as an educator, as a colleague, and as a human.
Photo by Charlie Firth on Unsplash