Being First

There are many life and leadership lessons to be learned in nature – both in actuality and in metaphor. One occurred in my yard this week.

After a seemingly never-ending, record breaking brutal winter, once again the crocus emerges. The first of the spring flowers. Daring to emerge well before consistently sunny days and warmer temperatures. Showing up, even though, all too often there will be still be snow and many freezing nights. Yet still poking through the hard and frozen earth.

I was thrilled to see the first crocuses and their heralding of the spring to come. And without fail, they bring a reminder to me of one of my favorite poems – which speaks to leadership and the risks one takes when leading – especially in the areas where it really matters.

Here is the poem:

Crocus Prayer
adapted by Kim Crawford Harvie

It takes courage to be crocus-minded. I’d rather wait until June
Like wild roses, when the hazards of winter are safely behind
and I’m expected, and everything’s ready for roses.

But crocuses? Highly irregular.
Knifing up through hard frozen ground and snow,
sticking their necks out because they believe in spring
and have something personal and emphatic to say about it.

I am not by nature crocus-minded.
Even when I have studied the situation here
and know there are wrongs that need righting,
affirmations that need stating,
and know also that my speaking out may offend, for it rocks the boat.
Well, I’d rather wait until June.
Maybe later things will work themselves out,
And we won’t have to make an issue of it.

Forgive me. Wrongs won’t work themselves out.
Injustices and inequities and hurt don’t just dissolve.
Somebody has to stick their neck out,
someone who cares enough to think through and work through hard ground
Because they believe and they have something personal and emphatic to say
about it.

The poem causes me to reflect on the times I was crocus-minded. When I screwed up the courage to voice an alternative opinion. When I raised an issue the team was struggling with but was not addressing, other than in hallway and after hour conversations. When I brought forward my sense of discomfort or injustice or unfairness – in spite of being the minority in opinion and in gender.

And when I think about those times, the one consistent theme is that fear of bringing up the issue was far greater than the negative consequences of taking action. Taking action, in most cases, allowed others who felt the same to own their voice. It allowed light into places that had been dark. It allowed insight followed by action. Not always perfectly, but almost always in a way that was better than dodging the tough issue.

The poem also caused me to pause and ask questions about the here and now.

• As I lead, what actions or conversations frighten me? Which of these need to happen, in spite of my fear?
• What is the group that I lead struggling with? Something that is real but unnamed? Something that no one dare bring to the forefront, but is draining the team of energy and focus? What might I do to surface and deal with it?
• What am I seeing, but conveniently ignoring, as that is the easier path?

When have you been the first to lead? Where do you see others leading the way? And where do you (or others) perhaps need to begin?