It might sound burdensome, but, as Kansans, we might be better for it. Let me explain.
As a writer, language is important to me. I feel strongly about writing with clarity and accurately capturing the essence of the way things are.
Yet as a journalist, I frequently used the word “leader” as a synonym for council members, state legislators, business executives and other authority figures. It did not matter whether they actually made progress happen. In my mind, titles made them leaders.
It wasn’t until I wrote my first case study on civic leadership for the Kansas Leadership Center that I understood how often I had confused leadership and authority. A KLC staff member pulled me aside to point out that I had unconsciously used the word “leader” to characterize several people who simply held official positions.
I already had a grasp of the KLC’s idea that “leadership is an activity,” one that anyone can do, and “not a position or authority.” But that moment crystallized for me to be much more precise in how I write and think about leadership.
These days, instead of talking about someone being a “great leader,” I try to examine how well he or she exercises leadership to make progress on tough challenges. I don’t assess people’s effectiveness by the prominence of his or her offices. Instead, I look at how purposeful they are at addressing the causes they care about.
Of course, neither I nor The KLC possess the authority to banish the word “leader” from your vernacular. But by consciously choosing to not assign the word “leader”, I’ve become more skilled at discerning when “leadership” really happens.
