The Year That Was & The Year That Will Be

2016. I’ve focused a lot over the last 2 weeks on re-energising myself. After an extremely hectic 2015 where I literally tried to fit EVERYTHING into my life with predictably bad consequences (the least of it being that I was sick 7 times in 5 months!), I’ve made time to refresh myself and simply be in the moment these holidays (saying that, the word ‘thesis’ is constantly hovering on the edges of my sub-conscious). Of course, I haven’t stopped ploughing through the reading list (I have 9 books to review this week!), but I’ve also been doing things for myself, whether that be shopping, going to the beach, seeing friends, binge-watching Downton Abbey, and spending a lot of time with hubby. I realised the other day as Mitchel and I were reflecting on the year that’s been that this is the first time in 4 years that I’ve taken longer than 5 days off over Christmas and the Summer holidays. I find a lot of fulfilment in being busy and achieving goals, but too much is definitely unhealthy, especially if you’re like me and just keep going, going, going without stopping for a decent breather. Note to future self: Read this post & take note of your own advice!

It's All About the Process + Progress

When I started blogging about the 'thesis process/progress' back in July, the first question I asked myself was: "How to start?" Starting is tough. Sharing honestly is difficult. Being 'authentic' is nerve-wracking. But here I am - I've started, I've shared, and I've tried to be authentic! I'm proud of what I've accomplished so far. And even though I still have SO much to do to get this thesis off the ground/down on paper/into the world, I feel I've carefully and deliberately considered the complexity of this project, a factor which will (fingers crossed) make it richer, more interesting, and deeply meaningful. The process has been all-encompassing and consuming, the progress challenging and enriching at both a personal-level, as well as academically. And in July 2016, I hope to be asking myself: "How to finish?"

Reflecting on Awakenings

An important aspect of myself I’ve wanted to explore in more depth this summer is feminist spirituality, or, more accurately, the ‘divine feminine’. Perhaps these phrases sound wishy-washy or unimportant, but part of the journey for me, in terms of what I like to think of as my ‘feminist awakening’ (putting words & theory into action), is discovering what it means to engage with religion, theology, and spirituality from the perspective of the ‘sacred feminine,’ the ‘other’ side of God if you will.

And so I was excited when I discovered that Sue Monk Kidd (author of The Secret Life of Bees and The Invention of Wings) prior to her mainstream literary success had written an account of her spiritual journey from the fundamentalist Christian tradition to a new understanding of the 'sacred feminine.' Unsurprisingly, the ideas she discusses in The Dance of the Dissident Daughter (1996) deeply inform the content of her novels, and it sparked in me a new appreciation for what she is attempting (successfully, I might add) to achieve in her novels - celebrating women who grow into their strength and do intrepid things - "sometimes being gentle, sometimes fierce, sometimes waiting, sometimes leaping. But always knowing who [they are]” (p. 212).

While I don’t agree with all Monk Kidd's propositions (and she is careful to frame them as her personal ‘vision’ - only one way to engage with the divine rather than a definitive, unarguable theological stance), I felt refreshed after finishing the book. Permission was granted to simply be in the moment, allowing feelings of perhaps anger, confusion, sadness, but also excitement and happiness to be felt in entirety as new ideas were/are discovered, considered, embraced or abandoned. I asked myself: "What does it mean and how does it feel to ‘awaken’ slowly, noticing and moving in time with emerging experiences rather than always trying to be correct or attempting to navigate in an unknown ‘right’ direction?" I also love the way Monk Kidd emphasises the importance of protecting oneself while in the ‘awakening’ or developmental stage of change; not everything has to be argued or defended right away: 

While I found her spiritual musings thought-provoking (as in 'shelved for future reference') and interesting (heretical to some no doubt!), what I really appreciated was Monk Kidd's careful formation of a solid feminist critique.

On several occasions she highlights the importance of looking at social institutions, the church, and Western culture as a whole, from the ‘bottom up.’ She writes: “This looking from the bottom up is the catalyst for a reversal of consciousness, not only for ourselves but also for the most resistant among us. For when we stop perceiving, assuming, and theorising from the top, the dominant view, and instead go to the bottom of the social pyramid and identify with those who are oppressed and disenfranchised, a whole new way of relating opens up” (p. 35). This ties in closely with post-structuralism and deconstruction, methods which I have discussed previously - here.

Testing Feminist Frameworks

One of the ideas I briefly played with in my last blog entry was the difference/similarity between liberal and cultural feminism and my desire to find a balanced approach between the two. So I was thrilled by Sue Monk Kidd’s eloquent framing of the two as mutually inclusive concepts:

My personal belief is that while differences exist, women and men both have an innate and equal ability to engage in the full range of human experiences. (Men can nurture and women can quest for autonomy.) Neither men nor women should be limited to a narrow category of what’s considered feminine if you’re female or masculine if you’re male. I also believe that men and women contain both ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ qualities and that the goal is to balance, blend, and honour both within the individual and the culture. The point, however, is that women have been socialised toward certain choices and experiences, and these experiences need to be valued in a way that is not inferior to men’s experiences. Indeed, as I made my critique, the problem seemed to me not that there are differences but rather how we value these differences (p. 62-63).

Too idealistic perhaps? Nonetheless, it highlights the complexity of finding a middle ground which takes into account the socially constructed nature of male-female differences and at the same time stresses the importance of not devaluing feminine traits in favour of masculine norms. An increasing masculinisation of society [in the sense that over the past 40 years there has been a major shift involving middle-class women’s aspirations and attitudes becoming more like men’s, focused on individual achievement and individual freedom (Cameron, 2007, p. 175)] is not the desirable outcome of minimising differences between the sexes, and vice versa.

As I’ve been drafting up my discussion on Feminism & Women’s Leadership I’m starting to realise how valuable and useful a multi-lens feminist approach will be. I quite like how Evangelina Holvino in Women & Leadership: The State of Play and Strategies for Change (2007) uses five Feminist frameworks (liberal, cultural, socialist, poststructuralist, transnational) in her consulting firm to inform her coaching practices and to come up with specific strategies for addressing issues of power and leadership that female leaders face in everyday organisational life. 

For example, Holvino uses poststructuralist feminism to encourage 'Ana' (a senior female director in a large, successful firm) to pay attention to imagery depicting the women in her organisation and to “identify the sources of organisational influence and power that go beyond those expected and sanctioned by the culture for its women leaders” (p. 374). To demonstrate this method, Holvino discusses an image found in the company’s internal 'leadership' brochure. In the photo, the highest-ranking female executive in Ana’s organisation is portrayed with her arms outstretched & a warm beaming smile on her face as she serves up a platter of lasagne – she is the stereotypical image of a nurturing mother figure and dutiful housewife. By employing a poststructuralist feminist discourse, Holvino is then able to discuss with Ana the implications, both good and bad, such symbolic imagery has for female managers and leaders in the corporate workplace, e.g. what expectations may be subconsciously formed, how do men & women perceive the 'mother' figure in the workplace, etc...

Similarly, Sue Monk Kidd uses symbolism & symbolic imagery to deconstruct patriarchal power. (She also cleverly employs Greek mythology to question and explore the concept of female empowerment). I’ve picked out this example:

A Divine Feminine symbol acts to deconstruct patriarchy, which is one of the reasons there’s so much resistance, even hysteria, surrounding the idea of Goddess. The idea of Goddess is so powerfully “other,” so vividly female, it comes like a crowbar shattering the lock patriarchy holds on divine imagery. Nelle Morton often pointed out that word Goddess is so important because it bursts the exclusivity of the old symbol and opens the way to reimage deity (p. 167-8).

Aside from the fact that it seems a rather New Age-esque trope (just to clarify, I’m not a goddess worshipper, whatever that may mean!), I appreciate the way Monk Kidd and Holvino both manage (in starkly contrasting ways) to use poststructuralist feminist theory* to thoughtfully inform their writing and analysis, making it both practical and provocative. 

* What is poststructuralist feminism? Holvino uses the following definition: "Poststructuralist feminism uses theories of language, subjectivity, and the history of institutions and social practices to understand and question existing power relations, especially as they are constructed through differences, knowledge, discourse, and the symbolic. For example, societal discourses typically constitute men and women as different. These discourses are in a binary and oppositional relation, but one side, the masculine is privileged. One of the goals of this approach is to unpack and deconstruct those assumptions, images and practices that are taken for granted" (p. 369).

--

And coming very soon…book reviews!!  

References:

Cameron, D. (2007). The myth of Mars and Venus. New York, NY: Oxford University Press Inc. 

Holvino, E. (2007). Women and power. In B. Kellerman & D. L. Rhode (Eds.), Women & leadership: The state of play and strategies for change (pp. 361-382). San Francisco, CA: John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

Monk Kidd, S. (1996). The dance of the dissident daughter: A woman’s journey from Christian tradition to the sacred feminine. New York, NY: HarperCollins Publishers.

Storytelling as the ‘Other’ (Part 2)

Puzzles, Puzzling, Piecing. This is like slowly putting together a 5000-piece puzzle. Before the whole picture begins to materialise (is it a gorgeous scenic vista or a magical wonderland?), I have to build the edges. And in this lovely little analogy, the edges are the theory. And since I don’t quite know yet what the puzzle will end up looking like, I suppose it’s more like a Wasgij Puzzle!

In a previous entry, I included this quote: “The theory should illuminate a work, and a work should illuminate a theory” (Rapaport, 2011, p. 9). I would like to explore this claim further, investigating how it can be applied to women’s leadership development. What interpretative method/s could I apply to reading literature so as that the text will effectively illuminate issues surrounding women’s leadership? In this post I will take this question into the theoretical realm of post-structuralism and deconstruction, and consider the potential usefulness of these methods for my analysis.

But before answering this question, I want to take a step back and look at how Badaracco (my original inspiration for this project) has structured his analysis of literature in Questions of Character. As I’ve said before, I do find Badaracco's style to be a little too neat and idealistic, with the main problem being that he focuses on the primacy of the ‘leader;’ a ‘type’ of objective person who fits into a universal definition of ‘leadership.’ He writes: “The basic challenges of leaders appear so widely, perhaps even universally, because they reflect enduring aspects of leadership. One is the humanity of leaders – the hopes and fears, traits and instincts of the human nature we all share. The other is the unchanging agenda, in all times and places: developing a goal…and working with and through people to make it real” (p. 6, emphasis added).

The problem with this approach is that it collapses ‘leadership’, a collective process “which encompasses not only leaders but their followers and the context in which they come into contact, into ‘leaders’, into an individually-based unit of analysis” (Ladkin, 2010, p. 5). Subsequently, this ‘great person’ construct only serves to strengthen the widespread tendency in Western society to idealise leaders, implying that only a select few have the ‘right’ traits to exercise initiative (Gemmill & Oakley, 1992) [Excerpt from my Research Project].

However, I like the way he raises thought-provoking questions by making well-known novels and plays such as Death of a Salesman, Things Fall Apart and The Love of the Last Tycoon speak deeply about moral issues in a business context, substituting the carefully crafted, prosaic business case study with the multi-layered, messy reality of everyday life. 

I’ve chosen to look at Chapter 2: “How flexible is my moral code?” Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, as I’ve recently read this novel (which is excellent by the way! I even managed to get Mitchel to read it). The key question Badaracco poses in this chapter is: “Will my moral code help me make the right decisions for my organisation, even as business conditions change?”

The first thing that Badaracco does is problematize the notion of moral codes and the ‘moral compass,’ asking: Should leaders really be as moral as possible in all situations? To counter this popular supposition, he uses Okonkwo’s tragic story, which, in part, can be blamed on the African leader’s intransigent and uncompromising moral ideals. Badaracco points out that Okonkwo’s death raises a very difficult and uncomfortable question: “Should we abandon the familiar idea that good leaders have a moral compass? This is a disturbing question because we want leaders with moral clarity, who can guide and inspire organisations, especially in tough times. But Okonkwo’s moral compass is a liability when Umuofia is fighting for its survival” (p. 32).

Badaracco then goes on to discuss a contemporary case featuring a business leader who was uncompromising on his moral code, and rather than work to find alternative solutions, walked out at great cost to the firm and many of the employees. As an alternative to the popular moral compass trope, Badaracco claims that “leaders need moral codes that are as complex, varied, and subtle as the situations in which they often find themselves. This does not mean abandoning basic values or adopting moral relativism. It does mean…embracing a wider set of human values” (p. 33).

But how do you develop a sensitive, flexible moral compass? In answer to this question, Badaracco uses Okonkwo’s story as a lesson, drawing from it a series of questions which are intended for “honest reflection” on the reader’s behalf. I think what is so gripping about Badaracco’s approach here is that while there is an expectation that you have read the book/play/short story, he retells key moments from the story (and not in any particular linear order), making the narrative come alive and providing compelling and memorable examples. There is no 'obvious ending' or simplified moral lesson, such as those found in traditional business case studies (Boje, 2001). He also briefly considers the intertextuality of the book – the perspective and intentions of the author, the historical setting, the wider social issues the novel addresses, and the reader’s active role in producing and creating meaning from the text.

Badaracco spends the bulk of his discussion on five key reflective questions:

1. How deep are the emotional roots of my moral code?
2. What do my failures tell me?
3. How have I handled ethical surprises?
4. Do I have courage to reconsider?
5. Can I crystallise my convictions?

Each of these questions are explored using examples from Things Fall Apart and with the support of current leadership theory (although Badaracco doesn’t cite many, if any, of these ideas or theories). Badaracco is careful not to prescribe answers, but rather attempts to stimulate debate and self-analysis/reflexive thinking. It's a guide to a better ‘way of being’ in the world: “Okonkwo’s life shows the importance of a leader’s moral code and offers several basic ways for leaders to test the soundness of their own deep convictions. It also warns us against viewing moral codes as simple, mechanistic devices” (p. 51).

In summary then, Badaracco takes a popular business concept (in this case a leader's in-built ‘moral compass’), problematizes widespread ideas/norms surrounding individual morality, demonstrates why there are flaws in this way of thinking (using the story of Okonkwo’s downfall), and proposes possible solution/s in the form of self-improving reflexive questions. Essentially, he is providing aspiring leaders with ideas to help them become better, more ethical, moral leaders. It’s like bookclub on steroids basically, but for men.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I really do like Badaracco’s book – it’s practical, easy-to-read and insightful, and its depth, in terms of literary analysis, is something I really appreciate. However, the overall message is that we are all on a self-directed teleological journey towards an elusive future where you/me will have become the moral leader. If only me/myself/I work hard enough to develop emotional intelligence and authenticity, then there is no reason I won’t succeed as a leader in any environment and in any situation. As Ford, Harding and Learmonth (2008) explain: “Leadership discourses are very much concerned with changing the self so as to become this good leader. In being urged to develop self-awareness, the subject is required to analyse the self as if the self were an object that can be looked at, assessed and then worked on so as to change (p. 21).

At this point it’d be nice to say: ‘Well, this method and style works really well – it’s interesting,  engaging & Badaracco’s already proven it works, so let’s just substitute male narratives with female ones and discuss (using women's literary examples) how to become more collaborative, relational and authentic leaders.’ End of story. A beautifully written, practical thesis tested on a myriad of wonderful female leaders who found it vaguely ‘empowering.’

But unfortunately (or fortunately!) I can’t bring myself to write something so blatantly post-feminist; buying into the wider discourse of Western individualism and over-simplifying the pressing issues surrounding women’s leadership by relegating problems to the ‘I/me/you’. And so I would like to turn to feminist post-structuralism, deconstruction and critical reflexivity (scary names, huh?) as potential ‘methods’ or strategies for content analysis. 

Deconstructing Texts to Story ‘Others’

First off, what does deconstruction even mean? Although providing a set definition is, as Boje points out, rather contradictory to Derrida’s original intentions, deconstruction can be explained “as an analytic strategy that exposes in a systematic way multiple ways a text can be interpreted. Deconstruction is able to reveal ideological assumptions in a way that is particularly sensitive to the supressed interests of members of disempowered, marginalised groups” (Boje, 2001, p. 19).

According to Derrida, all Western thought is based on the idea of a centre – a Truth, Ideal Form, a Presence, etc… which guarantees all meaning (Powell, 1997, p. 21). So deconstruction can be employed as a method of reading/understanding that decentres and unmasks society’s ‘grand narratives’ or essentialist ‘Truths’ (i.e. the ‘great man’ theory of leadership or ‘heroic masculinity’), making room for less visible or marginalised voices and ideas (i.e. women’s perspectives, leadership as shared process, etc...). By enacting alternative narrative analysis that stories ‘Others’ and the author, new narratives in organisation studies that are “multi-voiced, rich with fragmentation and lacking linearity” can emerge and, ultimately, work to actively destabilise hegemonic masculinities and taken-for-granted assumptions and stereotypes (Boje, 2001, p. 9).

However, caution is still in order. As Boje points out: “If we just replace one centre with our own authoritative centre, we have fallen into our own trap. The point then is not to replace one centre with another, but to show how each centre is in a constant state of change and disintegration” (p. 19). Several of the novels/short stories/plays I’ve read do attempt to deconstruct central visions, essentialist concepts and transcendent principles. For example, Top Girls, ‘Sur,’ ‘The Matter of Seggri,’ Welcome to Thebes, etc… The play Welcome to Thebes and Le Guin’s ‘The Matter of Seggri’ are both particularly interesting in this regard as they explore a reversal of the binary opposition, overthrowing patriarchy with matriarchy. But rather than just replacing one hierarchy for another, both Le Guin and Buffini open up the analysis and encourage the reader to think differently about the adverse effects of socially-constructed, gendered societies.

How does Deconstruction Relate to Post-Structuralism?

Boje writes that “for me, deconstruction is a post-structuralist epistemology” (p. 19). But what is post-structuralism? In very brief terms:

In post-structuralist perspectives that build on the performative effect of language, there is no such thing as a passive reading of a text or looking at a film: the ‘gaze’ is actively engaged both in interpreting the text (and thus the reader becomes part of the text) and in the production of the self, or subjectivity, through the very act of looking. Thus reader and text are caught up in one another – the text confers subjectivity (Ford, Harding & Learmonth, 2008, p. 5).

By taking a post-structuralist stance, one can argue that reading, writing and talking are not innocent activities, but are actively productive (Ford, et al., 2008). For example, since popular leadership discourses are impregnated with images of the ‘hero’, visions informed by a battle between ‘the good hero’ and its binary opposite, the ‘dastardly villain’ (Ford, et al., 2008, p. 21), the performative effect is such that leader = leadership in the business world. Similarly, “where men have been regarded as logical, non-emotional, aggressive, occupiers of the public world” and women the opposite (nurturing, emotional, empathetic, unstable), “these descriptors not only create the genders they supposedly do no more than describe, but become norms by which we do not feel we are truly men or truly women if we do not live up to them” (Ford, et al., 2008, p. 132).

So the aim, in terms of leadership development, is not to provide people with ideas to help them think through how to be/come good leaders as Badaracco does (although this is still a legitimate and helpful exercise), but instead, as Ford, et al. (2008) recommend to look at “the demands that have been placed on them and the ways in which those demands may be influencing who they are, as individuals, as subjects, as people involved in the on-going process of constructing the persons who turn up at the workplace each morning" (p. 11).

This critical method of reflexivity, informed by deconstruction and post-structuralism, requires the reader/leader to go beyond the self and embrace wider social, moral and historical contexts, making what was hitherto invisible (stereotypes, expectations, prejudices, ‘centres’ and ‘grand narratives,' etc...) visible and open to critique and resituation (as Boje would say). I'd like to end with a quote by Ford, Harding & Learmonth (2008), the authors of Leadership as Identity: Constructions and Deconstructions, they write:

The encouragement of self-reflexivity and critical questioning of taken for granted aspects of the experience of managers [and leaders] may facilitate a determined critique among managers that can lead to resistance to organisational control. This may be possible through active interpretation of storied accounts of peoples’ experiences and reflexive dialogical critique in which many interpretations can be surfaced (p. 184).

And by ‘storied accounts,’ why not novels, short stories & plays which explore the complexity of women’s leadership from multi-dimensional, multi-voiced 'Other' perspectives?

References:

Badaracco, J. L. (2006). Questions of character: Illuminating the heart of leadership through literature. Boston, MA:  

Harvard Business School Publishing.

Boje, D. M. (2001). Narrative methods for organisational & communication research. London, UK: Sage Publications Ltd.

Ford, J., Harding, N., & Learmonth, M. (2008). Leadership as identity: Constructions and deconstructions. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan.

Gemmill, G., & Oakley, J. (1992). Leadership: An alienating social myth? Human Relations, 45(2), 113-129.

Ladkin, D. (2010). Rethinking leadership: A new look at old leadership questions. Cheltenham, UK: Edward Elgar 

Publishing Limited.