Resilience and Inclusive Leadership: A Personal Journey

FOCUS Resilience and inclusive leadership Resilience redefines the terms for success and survival Divided we stand Change-ability: the key to global success Leadership agility: a global imperative Putting resilience into practice in a volatile world Resilience and inclusive leadership: a personal journey Business professor Kurt April gives a candid account of his long and often difficult process of personal change and development in South Africa – and how he beat the system Illustration: Mike Brooker-Jones What is the answer? 32 Dialogue | Dec 2013/Feb 2014 As humans, we all experience deep yearnings for purpose. We want to mean something, and belong. We want to touch the inner reaches of ourselves and live full lives, but there are tall gates blocking the way to our inner landscapes and potentials. Learning to scale these gates should be the life work of all true leaders. It is a hard and long path that involves becoming resilient as well as changing old ways of thinking, living more consciously and purposefully, shrugging off pointless influence and standing upright in virtuous fortitude. How can I lead more fully, and with purpose, to make others more powerful? It therefore did not take too long for me to develop serious cognitive dissonance – on the one hand, your parents claim that you are their special/miracle child, that they love you and that they hoped that anything was possible for you; on the other hand, the country and rulers continuously reinforced the fact that you are not white and, therefore, not “fully human” and should not expect much from your life circumstances and chances. When confronted with extended periods of two such “truths” and you cannot reconcile them, the end result is continuous degradation of one’s self-esteem and selfconfidence. It doesn’t help this mindset when one sees his 6ft 1inch, normally-upright father, physically change his body shape to show submission, in the presence of white people. I grew up in Apartheid South Africa, a person of “colour” born into a lower middle-class family. We had enough to eat, owned our three-bedroomed home (even after being moved out of an area that became designated for white people, without compensation), a car and clothes aplenty – but we did not frequent restaurants (the handful we were allowed to go to as people of mixed heritage) and no distant or overseas holidays were taken, mainly because there was no money for such “extravagances” (as my dad put it) and also because our Calvinistic (German) spiritual upbringing did not look kindly on such pursuits. Another “truth of the time” was that “work was a necessary form of suffering”, and that such suffering was good for our character development (much like the “necessary character-enhancing hidings” I got from my dad when I stepped out of line). In the main, my childhood was happy… until I developed some self- and other-awareness, and “awoke” to my context and systematized social reality (as a so-called coloured person) in which I was not considered white and, therefore, “less than”. Continuous harassment, as a young person, by the militarized police (and their attack dogs) and a ban from the multitude of beaches around Cape Town – as well as bans from the majority of restaurants, museums, movie houses, and the continuous reminder that you’re not welcome in your own country through “Whites Only” signboards on park benches, trains, buses, shop entrances, and so forth – ensured that one’s world perspective was very small. Dialogue | Dec 2013/Feb 2014 At best, people in my community hoped for a stable job that they could go to every day. In addition, student loans, home loans and the like were not permitted for people of colour and, thus, many accepted their lot in life, and ironically appeared grateful for whatever white folk were willing to offer and dish out – and the inability for social movement and creating different, potential futures was prevalent in the psyche of the majority of South Africans. + DIGITAL EXCLUSIVE Viewpoint: seeing resilience as a state of mind with Michael Jenkins. Beating the system In such circumstances, one can: (a) fight back against the system (which I initially attempted, and got involved with the “wrong crowds” doing destructive things… and totally displeased my mother, whom I cared for dearly; I also had a family member, James April, who fought the system by being a very senior officer within the ANC military wing and, when caught, ended up spending 15 years on Robben Island with Nelson Mandela), (b) give up and give in to the system (either by putting one’s head down, doing what you were told and obeying the powers that were; or, by trying to assimilate with a white group – taking on their habits, sports, religion, ways of speaking, attempting skin whitening, straightening of hair, staying out of the sun, etc.); and (c) by beating the system, by being “better” than white folk at the very jobs they held, by being smarter and more qualified in the education they so freely received, and by never demonstrating less than excellence in whatever you attempted. I chose the last – I beat the system. 33 All three of these approaches required fundamental shifts in one’s personal identity, moving uncomfortably towards the very edges of one’s psyche and comfortability, and displaying an openness to being adaptable in the face of ongoing uncertainty and ambiguity. When such fundamental individual changes occur, one needs “pillars” on which to hold, because there has to be a denial of one’s inner self – mine were my deep sense of spirituality/faith, as well as the teachings of Steve Biko, founder of the Black Consciousness Movement who claimed that “our fight” was not with other white people, but with ourselves – we needed to accept ourselves for who we were and live authentically. At the time, I was not at all (ego) mature enough to live such authenticity: I had invested so much time and effort in creating a very acceptable persona (mainly for the benefit of white people, so that they could take me seriously), while subconsciously hoping that all people would learn to love and admire the external persona of myself and, in so doing, maybe I then could love myself (an external-in approach). After completing seven degrees and national diplomas (during which time South Africa had seen its first democratic elections), and numerous job-hoppings between private and government institutions, I was able to take up a job on the board of a prestigious international company, where I fought for shareholder interests. It was a time in which I invested all of my energy and time into “becoming important”. All was well, it seemed, but I longed for holidays and lacked joy and fulfilment in my work – still believing that work was a form of necessary suffering. My business school education also impressed on me that all individuals in corporate life existed for the maximization of shareholder value. Having a purpose At the time, I fulfilled the duties of my job, not understanding that real energy and influence come from having a purpose, and living out that purpose through the work and relationships one engenders. But I changed drastically one day when, inspired by my mother who, on her death bed, advised me 34 Inclusive leadership starts with an intention of wanting to be the best for the world to live life passionately – not in pursuit of money and personal success only, but to focus my efforts on making other people powerful and living a life of significance (not importance). I therefore had my life crisis, in which I asked myself a few existential questions: Who am I? Is this me? What gives me meaning? Who is the “other”? Do I belong? What are my values – and am I able to live them in work and socially? What lifestyle do I want (as opposed to what job do I want)? How long was I going to mask my anger with compromise? How long was I still going to pretend to be tough and successful, when deep, deep inside I suffered from severe lack of self-esteem and self-confidence (hiding successfully, I foolishly thought, behind education, material success and outward brashness)? How can I lead more fully, and with purpose, in order to make others more powerful? Courageous choices The challenge, as always, was in translating my intent into real action, through making courageous choices. These disciplined and courageous steps towards a more fulfilling future, in which I had to unlearn and let go of many of my deeply-held attitudes and beliefs, did not come without doubts and fears. However, I was encouraged by the fact that if I did not do anything to change my personal course in life, that anger and power could continue to dominate every facet of my life, whereas there could be a shift to an enriched life experience. I knew that I needed help in embarking on a new narrative – my wife Amanda was a pillar of strength (able to help me confront the dark night of my own soul, to deconstruct my old paradigms and construct new ones collaboratively, while challenging me regarding the choices I was making in shaping who I was becoming) and others: the elders to whom I turned taught me that I had to turn from gathering more knowledge and instead had to seek wisdom, in which I had to let go of something every day (mental models, subconscious beliefs, emotional stances, stereotypes, resentment, shame and guilt); my mentors encouraged me in my search for self-identity and personal pride (self-love – not the selfish or narcissistic kind) within the milieu of disproportionate rank; and my Dialogue | Dec 2013/Feb 2014 teachers told me to continue to demand excellence from others, while being willing to coach and teach those who could not as yet be excellent. Soft power I learnt that I did not always have to use hard power in my pursuits and work in order to get people to do what I wanted – coercion, might, control, economic muscle, operating from one’s role/position and using one’s authority. In fact, Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King Jr, Mother Theresa and Mahatma Gandhi all effectively used soft power – equal to, or even more effective than, hard power – in which they were able to get others to want the same things that they did, responsibly. This power was characterised by generosity, attraction and influence, the appeal of cultural, social and moral messages, a respect for others’ traditions and an approach of deep care and love. I could see Plato’s “philosopher king” characteristics fulfilled by this latter form of leadership – and it was appealing to me. I learnt that true and lasting subjective wellbeing or happiness, through the lenses of this paradigm, comes when you treat the world as if it is not just a backdrop of your own journey; and if you have a relationship with the world that isn’t based on triumphing over it or complaining about it. It is premised on a dedication and orientation to something other than your own interests and concerns. It is a human trait to put ourselves at the centre of the world and attract willing followership by eliminating our concern for the smaller self, the selfish self, the political self, the material self. Role of a leader This is a form of leadership that looks deeply into the role of a leader; one that embodies four components. First, the role of the leader is to be the custodian of values, character and resources. Virtue must be understood and used in ways that heal and build community, as opposed to appealing to old stereotypes. This involves hearing the minority voice, the marginalized stance, the “other”, and widening the conversation, helping others cope with uncertainty and ambiguity, and avoiding the trap of absolutes, while teaching Dialogue | Dec 2013/Feb 2014 The role of the leader is to be the custodian of values, character and resources compassion (actionable empathy). Second, a leader needs to invest in personal renewal – taking time out for serenity, time for selfcare, growing in gratitude for those who have influenced their lives, investing in those people – and practices – that make them resilient, living out a purpose and saying “no” to all that is not in that purpose (vocatio). Third, leaders must be agents of healing – helping people to work through resentment and to become connected, restoring their sense of belonging, and reconciling conflicting images of the past with a vision for the future. Providing hope – becoming a voice for the marginalised and actively taking stances against and opposing despair, and embodying hope in one’s words, actions and deeds. And, fourth, leaders must move beyond just telling it “how it is” and practise “telling it how it could be” – to help others to see the potential and possibilities. Such leadership necessarily requires continuous active stances against the evidence to change the deadly tides that could lead to despair. It is not just about being optimistic or merely speaking about what could be, but actively taking stances and getting involved to help bring those possibilities to fruition – and, whenever and wherever encountered, to challenge: (1) hegemonic paradigms, (2) people who are stuck in fractured and (3) irrelevant ideologies, and evidence that highlights only spurious beliefs. In summary, inclusive leadership starts with an intention of wanting to be the best for the world, not necessarily only the best in the world. It is the basic call for all of humankind to become more than we currently are. But you can only be more if – through purposeful action – you help others and allow them to be more than you. You cannot be more if you don’t know how to be less. ● Kurt April is a Sainsbury Fellow and tenured Professor of leadership, diversity and inclusion at the Graduate School of Business of the University of Cape Town, an Associate Fellow of Said Business School (University of Oxford), faculty member of Duke CE and research fellow of Ashridge Business School (UK) 35