Keep Calm & Write On

Oh the veritable joys of longlisting and shortlisting (and decision-making in general)! I am tempted to throw my hands up in the air and shout: "I WILL JUST USE ALL OF THEM!" Every relevant book, theory, and framework.

But this, unfortunately, is an unrealistic goal. Besides the obvious fact that this would make my project an unreadable tome, there is a little ticking clock situated right on the edge of my sub-conscious constantly reminding me that “*tick* you *tock* are *tick* running *tock* out *tick* of *tock* TIME!” I swear, it’s starting to drive me a little bit insane.

And so I am faced with a series of decision-making dilemmas – there seem to be no clear right or wrong ways to work this, it is a toss-up between a myriad of right and right decisions. What I really need to do is pull out the proverbial weighing scales and balance the options against one another: Do I shortlist The Lifeboat or The Dovekeepers or The Invention of Wings? (I love them all equally!) Does Welcome to Thebes or Top Girls say more about power, inequality and benign sexism? (They’re both so rich I almost don’t know where to start!) Do I cut my longlist down from 10 stories to 8? And if so, which ones do I strike off the list? Is a transformational learning approach too idealistic? (Am I kidding myself with how much you can actually get out of a good novel?) Do I read my selections through a feminist and a deconstructionist lens? Or am I stretching myself too far? What about Cixous, Irigaray and Kristeva and feminist poststructuralism? Am I just another over privileged white feminist making a huge mistake by ignoring intersectionality (i.e. race)?

I suppose there are better choices versus a few not-so-good ones, but all the options seem so full of potential – from this distance the 'fields of completion' all appear to be full of flowers. And yet I could unintentionally stumble into a hypothetical quagmire if I’m not careful.

It’s panic inducing stuff I tell you! Panic partially brought on by the fact that I’ve had a nasty chest infection for the past month. I have to frequently remind myself to slow down, breathe and just:

I know my project isn’t world changing, like finding a cure for cancer or alleviating poverty, but the more I read and learn about gender, feminism and leadership, the more I see a desperate need for fundamental changes across the board, in organisations and in wider society. As the Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie writes in We Should All Be Feminists (2014): “Today, we live in a vastly different world. The person more qualified to lead is not the physically stronger person. It is the more intelligent, the more knowledgeable, the more creative, more innovative. And there are no hormones for those attributes. A man is as likely as a woman to be intelligent, innovative, creative. We have evolved. But our ideas of gender have not evolved very much” (p. 18). [Check out her excellent TED Talk on the same subject here].

We must have more conversations about gender and leadership. Rather than sweeping the ‘woman question’ under the table because it is too controversial, too provocative, too emotional, let’s talk, debate, disagree, agree, reflect on and, maybe, even transform our thinking. Let’s disrupt habitual patterns of thinking, discuss in detail the everyday dilemmas women face as they practice and experience leadership, make meaning from these dilemmas and stories, and achieve some level of insight. And if I can facilitate, or at least provide what I like to call ‘the scaffolding,’ for a discussion which has the potential to explore a wide array of women and leadership issues, then perhaps I am starting to accomplish something worthwhile. (At least that’s what I like to tell myself after a sleepless night worrying over my thesis!)

Transformative Change

Of course, these aims all tie into my methods section which I’m frantically working on at the moment (panic, sleepless nights, frantic scrawling…I’m beginning to sound like a broken record! Although it’s rather cathartic to voice my self-doubt, and by doing so, start to release it). I’m kicking it off with a brief literature review on women’s leadership development, focusing on the specific ways educators and scholars are addressing more ‘sensitive’ topics (i.e. those that garner the most resistance and reactance), such as double binds, stereotypes, myths, expectations, gendered social structures, etc... However, the research in this area is rather scant. Hopkins, O’Neil, Passarelli, and Bilimoria (2008) have found that the topic of women’s leadership development remains underrepresented in both the business and psychology literature, and very little is written on teaching women and leadership as a potentially sensitive subject (Shollen, 2015). The result is that educators and practitioners “lack a coherent, theoretically based, actionable framework for designing and delivering leadership programmes for women” (Ely, Ibarra, & Kolb, 2011, p. 475).

However, not all is bleak! During my research I identified three key learning frameworks that are being successfully utilised for women-only leadership development programmes. These include consciousness-raising and emancipatory techniques, experiential learning, and transformational learning. It’s also exciting because scholars have noted an increasing demand among women for interdisciplinary approaches which combine social sciences and humanities perspectives, such as women’s studies, communication concepts, and sociology, with leadership studies. Ruminski and Holba (2012) claim that interdisciplinary methods offer much richer possibilities for “scholarly analysis, functional praxis and constructive social change” (Ruminiski & Holba, 2012, p. 6). But the real golden key, I believe, is Debebe’s (2009, 2011) transformational learning model for women’s leadership development (based on Mezirow’s (1991) model). I’m not going to go into too much detail in this post, but here is a figure to illustrate the transformational process in its most basic form:

Working within this framework offers clear guidelines and a proven method for effecting change. And the real clincher – in terms of developing course content for a ‘transformational’ women’s leadership course, growing attention is being visited on arts-based transformative learning approaches, in particular, the power of literary fiction to invoke meaningful transformative insight (Hoggan & Cranton, 2015; Lawrence & Cranton, 2015; Lawrence, 2008; Jarvis, 2006). In a qualitative study with 131 undergraduate and graduate students in the US, Hoggan and Cranton (2015) found that reading fiction for a specific purpose or learning activity (that is, directed reading as opposed to casual reading) has the "potential to arouse strong emotional responses and to encourage critical reflection on habits of mind" (p. 22). 

Even though Badaracco (2006), Sucher (2007), and McManus and Perruci (2015) don’t explicitly state their intentions in such theoretical terms, their respective goals appear to be transformational in nature. They are, as Sucher stipulates, “harnessing the power of literature” to raise serious questions about what it means to practice moral and ethical leadership, and to illuminate the complexity of leadership as a multi-faceted process (and by doing so, completely change how leaders, followers, and students understand leadership). And so it's not a question of "will my methods work?" but rather, "what are the best ways to apply my methods?"

Of course, this has prompted me to take a step back and ask: Have I personally experienced transformative changes in my attitudes and values as I've critically read and reflected on various stories and characters? I think the resounding answer is 'Yes.' I definitely feel like I've adapted some of my ideas and I feel that I have a greater sense of agency and a much deeper understanding of women's leadership issues and, most importantly, why they continue to exist. But what forms has this learning taken exactly and what particularly has stood out? Have any of my practices changed? What am I doing differently?

I wish I had a smidgen more time to keep going with this blog post and explore these questions in detail. But time really is of the essence right now and that methods section is practically crying out for attention. I promise, however, to return to these questions at a later date. So for now, Happy Easter! 

References:

Adichie, C. N. (2014). We should all be feminists. London, UK: Fourth Estate.

Coles, R. (1989). The call of stories: Teaching and the moral imagination. Boston, MA: Houghton Misflin.

Debebe, G. (2009). Transformational learning in women’s leadership development training. Advancing Women in

Leadership, 29(7), 1-12.

Debebe, G. (2011). Creating a safe environment for women’s leadership transformation. Journal of Management Education, 35(5), 679-712.

Ely, R. J., Ibarra, H., & Kolb, D. M. (2011). Taking gender into account: Theory and design for women’s leadership development programs. Academy of Management Learning & Education, 10(3), 474-493.

Hoggan, C., & Cranton, P. (2015). Promoting transformative learning through reading fiction. Journal of Transformative Education, 13(1), 6-25.  

Hopkins, M. M., O’Neil, D., Passarelli, A., & Bilimoria, D. (2008). Women’s leadership development: Strategic practices for women in organizations. Consulting Psychology Journal: Practice and Research, 60, 348-365.

Jarvis, C. (2006). Using fiction for transformation. Fostering transformative learning in the classroom. Challenges and innovations. New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education, 2006, 69–77.

Lawrence, R. L. (2008). Powerful feelings: Exploring the affective domain of informal and arts-based learning. In J. M. Dirkx (Ed.), Adult learning and the emotional self. New directions for adult and continuing education, no. 120 (pp. 65–78). San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.

Lawrence, R. L., & Cranton, P. (2015). A novel idea: Researching transformative learning in fiction. Rotterdam, The Netherlands: Sense Publishing.

Ruminski, E. L., & Holba, A. M. (Eds.). (2012). Communicative understandings of women’s leadership development: From ceilings of glass to labyrinth paths. Plymouth, UK: Lexington Books.

Shollen, L. S. (2015). Teaching and learning about women and leadership: Students’ expectations and experiences. Journal of Leadership Education. 

The 'Art' of Writing

Well I’ve been writing steadily for the last three and a half weeks and so far have produced almost 21 pages of 1.5 spaced content, which roughly translates as 9,000 words. And that’s just for one section (and not including the 51 references)! No doubt there will be a lot of paring down in order to consolidate my argument, but for now, even in all its rough draft glory, I feel an immense sense of relief that I’ve finally started writing. Phew.

But it didn’t start very well…!!

Now I love the library. Massey has a beautiful modern library in which I’ve spent many hours perusing (or frantically searching) the book shelves and participating in group meetings. So I decided it’d be a good idea to sit myself down in the library to start writing the first weighty paragraphs of the Women & Leadership section. I’d packed up my laptop, a stack of hastily scrawled notes and references, and a couple of books, thinking this was going to be an extremely productive morning. I was prepared, focused and ready to produce some serious...academic writing. But as I purposefully strode into the library foyer I made my first crucial mistake.

Mistake #1: I was going to start writing straight away but my weakness for flat whites propelled me towards the café. I pulled out my phone as I waited for my coffee and started skimming the latest trending Mashable and Buzzfeed articles. Once you get hooked into reading this kind of stuff it’s hard to stop, especially if your coffee is ready in 2 minutes (you feel ripped off, caught in mid-article, unsatiated by mindless, yet entertaining drivel). Thirty minutes later I was finished with that (and the coffee) and ready to get started, happily fuelled by caffeine (maybe that wasn’t such a bad mistake then?)

Mistake #2: I hate lifts, absolutely hate them. Someone almost has to hold my hand to get me on one. So in the library, of course, I avoid them like the plague. Now usually I would go up to level 4 or 5 if I wanted to study quietly, but the thought of climbing at least two flights of stairs carrying my laptop, handbag, books and notes wasn’t appealing, even with a coffee buzz. So I went downstairs instead and found a cosy corner spot facing the wall. I set up my laptop, earphones, notes, water, etc. and after the required amount of time fiddling with sound, finding music I actually wanted to listen to, and checking the internet was working, I finally opened up a brand new Word document. It was at that point I realised my choice of location was incredibly poor. A loud intermittent clanking noise emanated from behind a nearby maintenance cupboard, a light was faintly flickering overhead, and people were chattering away in the pods. By now it had been almost 60 minutes since I’d arrived at the library and I hadn’t committed one word to virtual paper yet. Since moving upstairs would definitely push me over the hour mark I decided the best course of action, despite the disturbances, was to turn up my music and just start writing.

Mistake #3: At home I usually leave my smartphone in my bedroom in an attempt to counter it’s tantalising siren-like “pick me up and check Facebook” call. No such luck at the library where it’s only half-hidden in my bag. The first buzz to let me know someone has messaged me and can’t resist checking who it is.

Mistake #4: Forty minutes into writing I’d managed about 300 odd words. I felt rather disenchanted with these sentences, they weren’t quite fitting together and I wanted to figure out why. But I was quickly distracted by a pressing need to use the bathroom. The problem with coffee is that it has a tendency to move through you very quickly. And so I was faced with The Toilet Dilemma. Everyone knows those stories of poor unsuspecting students who just needed to use the bathroom quickly, left their laptop, phone, etc. out because it’s such a hassle to pack them up and returned to find them ‘disappeared.’ That coffee probably wasn’t such a good idea after all. :-/

I did manage to sneak off to the toilet without losing any of my valuables, but obviously by this point the whole library-writing situation really wasn’t working for me. So it made perfect sense to leave after two hours to go shopping with my sister, with only a measly 600 words in that Word doc. And when I got home that afternoon I ended up scrapping them all. It was, for lack of a better expression, a lose-lose day. Thesis – 0, Lydia’s ego – 0.

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I know this is quite a silly story! Ok, a very run-of-the-mill, hurry-up-and-finish, is-there-any-point kind of story. I will openly admit - it lacks profundity. But I wanted to explore the writing process honestly and the inevitable struggles, however inane, along the way (especially since family and friends often set me up on a pedestal as an example of the perfect, truly dedicated study-freak. And while I do, at times, have an incredible capacity for concentration, I’m still a fallible human being!).

On reflection, I managed to blame literally everything else but myself for getting off to a bad start (isn’t it incredible the human capacity for directing fault onto something/someone else other than oneself?) And for some reason this disastrous attempt at getting started put me off for the rest of the week (off writing at least, I did keep researching and reading!). After a few moments of soul-searching I eventually came to the realisation that the real problem was with me – my notes for the Feminism segment were poor and difficult to use. So the moral of the story is twofold: (1) I’m a creature of habit – home is always where the best writing happens (aka the dining room table!), (2) my writing is only going to be as good as my notes and research are. Such obvious points but so easy to ignore sometimes. 

Let’s Get Serious Now

Since the Women and Leadership (W&L) Section is more of a summary or evaluation (or in academic speak, a 'literature review') of the current issues women are facing in the contemporary workplace, it feels a bit like I’m working with a puzzle. I have 40+ references from which to craft my argument. The difficulty is always keeping in mind how all seven (yes 7!) sections of the thesis are inextricably linked to the arguments I make in this crucial middle piece. And yes, that does seem rather counter-intuitive doesn’t it? I’m sure that’s a rule from English 101 – don’t start writing your essay in the middle. But let’s imagine just for a minute a mindmap:

Women and leadership is the crucial central idea from which all other claims, ideas, and speculations evolve. Of course, doesn’t that still mean it should be the first topic to be addressed in the thesis? The way I like to think of it is concentrated analysis versus a broad ‘birds-eye-view’. Leadership itself is such a huge and often contentious topic, so before I can even begin explaining how gender influences/is-part-of leadership (the concentrated analysis aspect), I have to give a rundown on the perspective I’m adopting in relation to leadership as an academic discourse (the ‘big picture,’ the ‘ideal form,’ the ‘best practice’). But rather than write extensively on leadership with little to no direction, going back to this 'big picture' will ensure its relevance to the arguments I am making in the W&L section.

To give a brief explanation of the term, leadership, as I conceive of it in a business context, is the process of mobilising people effectively and efficiently so as they can work collectively towards a common purpose, goal or objective. But rather than being something that occurs through the agency of a single ‘leader’ figure; followers, context and the purpose to which effort is directed, all contribute to leadership’s occurrence (Ladkin 2010). And the part I'm honing in on is what goes on between leaders and followers during leadership ‘moments.’ More precisely, what does ‘gender’ do to leadership, or conversely, what does leadership do to gender? As much as some theorists would like to remove the ‘leader figure’ as a the primary topic/subject for analysis, because the social world and society’s power structures are arranged to give meaning to the binary classifications of male and female, and the tendency in most people’s minds to equate the term ‘leader’ with ‘leadership,’ gender identities and gender relations (men/women, masculine/feminine, etc.) continue to exert an immense amount of influence on how we conceive of and practice leadership in all variety of contexts and situations.

Image: Inverted Triangles. The inverted triangle exemplifies for me the 'honing in' structure of my thesis.

Another one of the important yet subtle distinctions I’ve been trying to make in the W&L section is the difference between the terms ‘women and leadership’ and ‘women’s leadership.’ Why is this significant? Here is a short segment from my discussion which sums it up nicely I think:

“Although the idea of finding a female advantage or a particular set of traits which allow women to compete on equal terms with men is appealing, a note of caution is in order. Promoting the idea of ‘women’s leadership’ as separate and distinct from ‘leadership’ places female leaders in a comparative position to be assessed against a pseudo-model of universal or neutral (aka male) leadership/power. Elliot and Stead (2009) explain that “women, we might conclude from this, are caught in a gender trap in which they are ‘constructed and reconstructed’ in order to make them appear suitable for managerial labour” (p. 26). If the workplace is established to reproduce and sustain masculinity, whether or not real differences and styles are identifiable in women leaders or not, traditional gender stereotyping will no doubt continue to influence how behaviours are perceived and rated (Whelan, 2012), perpetuating a ‘psychology of prejudice’ by which gender discrimination continues to be legitimated.”

So the aim is not to facilitate the feminisation of leadership, but instead a “loosening up” of management being “culturally connected to men and, in particular, masculine men and given a masculine meaning” (Billing & Alvesson, 2000, p. 155). Based on this premise I've developed a set of guiding questions for the methods section, questions which point to the usefulness of engaging fictional texts written by women: What can we learn about women and leadership by studying it in alternative, non-organisational settings? What methods will be employed to better reflect women’s experiences of leadership in the field of leadership development? How will these methods promote approaches that attend to the social and are concerned with leadership as well as with individual leader development? 

Engaging Imagination: Is the Process of Writing ‘Art’?

Imagine with me for a moment a beautiful large white canvas lying flat on your living room floor. Right next to the canvas is an assortment of paints, all manner of colours and shades, carefully emptied from their tubes and arranged expertly on a palette. And a little further over to the left, a set of clean paintbrushes. A toddler crawls into the room and pauses, awed by the size of the spotless, empty canvas. She spies the paint and makes a quick beeline for the uncovered rainbow of colours, a squeal of excitement on her lips. Tentatively dipping a finger into the sky blue she draws a squiggly line across the white space. It looks lonely, so she places both hands into the paint and swirls them around before drawing them enthusiastically across the unsuspecting canvas in a myriad of waves, dips and circles. The result, as perhaps you can well imagine, is something less than perfect. But perhaps, you might dare wonder, there is some kind of underlying order and beauty to it.

At the moment I feel a bit like that toddler. And if we substitute the canvas for paper, paint for theories and academic perspectives, and the excited toddler for the graduate student, then perhaps we can indeed call the writing process an ‘artistic pursuit’ in its purest, most literal form (brush to paper; hands to clay; keyboard to screen). Or, at least, collaging?!

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).

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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.

Calling All Bookworms

I was in the middle of writing a post on feminism, difference and women's leadership, but suddenly it all felt just a tad too deep and controversial for a rainy Friday afternoon! Plus, I've had rehearsals for the dance show I'm organising, and it's my second to last week at my current job and I'm tying up a million loose ends, so I feel I have a legitimate excuse not to be quite so 'academic' today...or tomorrow.

However, I didn't want to stop writing, so instead I have compiled mini reviews of my latest reading endeavours. Somehow I still managed 2000 words!

So without further ado...

1. Year of Wonders: A Novel of the Plague (2001) by Geraldine Brooks

Applicability Rating: 7.5/10

Relevant Themes: Self-actualisation, gender roles, religion, courage in crisis

Key Thoughts: Pulitzer Prize-winning author Geraldine Brooks is a gripping storyteller, and even if I didn’t think Year of Wonders was applicable to my project, I would wholeheartedly recommend this novel. Her non-fiction book (which I read for a post-colonial literature), Nine Parts of Desire: The Hidden World of Islamic Women (1995), is equally fascinating, so add that to your reading list.

This particular novel is told through the eyes of Anna, a brave young women living in a plague village in 17^th century England. During the fateful year of 1666, she and her fellow villagers face the spread of this deadly disease and the burgeoning rise of superstition and witch hunts. Brooks doesn’t shy away from recounting every gory detail as she vividly explores Anna’s progression from a cautious, unremarkable wife and mother, to a strong, independent female character. As Anna struggles to survive, and one could even say ‘find herself and her place in the world,’ a year of tragedy becomes instead annus mirabilis, a "year of wonders."

Anna is not only engaging and likeable, but she also learns how to take action and, ultimately, determines her own fate, standing up for what is ‘right’ and making decisions despite the expectations and beliefs of those around her. She isn’t defined solely in relation to men and isn’t limited by them (whereas Le Guin’s Lavinia is largely complicit in her fate and, subsequently, never emerges as or becomes a person in her own right). In fact, a comparison/contrast between Anna and Lavinia could bring up some very interesting questions about gender roles, female leadership and self-actualisation. For example: As women in positions of marginal ‘power’ (Anna as a healer, Lavinia as a sage), what expectations are placed on Anna & Lavinia? What similarities exist? What differences, if any? What dangers do they face due to their ‘power’? (i.e. Anna fears being accused as a witch, Lavinia is afraid her son will be forcibly taken away from her). 

 

2. Day After Night (2009) by Anita Diamant

Applicability Rating: 6/10

Relevant Themes: Friendship & solidarity, crisis situation, women's experiences

Key Thoughts: I really wish Diamant would write another novel with the same level of depth, scope and imaginative appeal as The Red Tent. I’ve now read two more of her most recent books, Day After Night and The Boston Girl, which, although well written and interesting, neither have the same complexity or narrative insight as Diamant’s dramatic re-telling of Dinah’s story.

As I’ve noted previously, while the focus is on motherhood and the bonds between women as opposed to women's leadership, The Red Tent's ‘universal’ themes and linear narrative lends itself to discussion on the 'power of women' and the importance of female bonds. How do women interact with one another when there are clear power boundaries? How does age affect leadership among women? Dinah's grandmother Rebekah is an example of a strong, perhaps almost masculine leader (see pages 147 - 166) who has to make difficult decisions which are often criticised.

Day After Night, on the other hand, is specifically concerned with Jewish women’s trauma and displacement immediately following WWII. Held in Atlit, a camp for over 270 ‘illegal’ immigrants to Israel in 1945, four young women struggle to start-over in a new country without friends, family, or, seemingly, a future. Diamant is a compassionate storyteller, and manages to thoughtfully portray the psychological struggles the women face as they are gathered in this ‘waiting’ place. While not specifically concerned with leadership, one character, Shayndel, a Polish Zionist who fought the Germans with a band of partisans, does take up the ‘leader’ mantel during an escape from Atlit. I suppose the ‘escape’ could be analysed in terms of it being a leadership moment (clear context, purpose, leader, followers) but it would require reading the entire book to make any sense of it, and there just isn’t enough in terms of 'women’s leadership' for it to be very compelling or particularly relevant. 

3. The Ten-Year Nap (2008) by Meg Wolitzer

Applicability Rating: 5/10

Relevant Themes: Working mothers vs. stay-at-home mothers, female ambition, disillusionment, money, motherhood

Key Thoughts: I was hoping that Wolitzer would be the contemporary version of Marilyn French or Mary McCarthy, especially since her bestselling novels are predominantly concerned with third-wave feminist issues. But unfortunately she lacks the finesse, insight and literary acumen to be considered their successor. (I’m still waiting to find a modern female equivalent who writes like French or even, Byatt).

The Ten-Year Nap follows a group of highly educated mothers who have left the workforce for one reason or another (not entirely convincingly) to raise their children (or child) in modern-day New York City. There is so much potential within this broad topic – the double bind of careers and motherhood – but Wolitzer conducts only a superficial analysis of the 'un-triumphant female.' And while some characters are reasonably engaging, others are simply boring stereotypes. The ‘grand narratives’ of women’s work, motherhood, and stay-at-home-mums could have been deconstructed and resituated (and then celebrated) but, alas, this was not to be. All I was left with was a feeling of superficiality and an unresolved dilemma – what is Wolitzer’s point/message? What is she even trying to say about this topic? I'd hazard a guess that even she doesn't quite know.

Furthermore, her characters are too tidy – or too much of a type, and the narrative veers incongruously between differing perspectives and irrelevant ‘moments’ from the lives of women throughout history. Perhaps as a book of short stories, linked by location or theme, this might have worked, but in novel form it is just so ‘meh,’ for lack of a better word! As Jill observes near the end of the novel: “This is the ending. It’s just not satisfying, that’s all.” How apt. 

4. The Shadow of the Sun (1964) by A. S. Byatt

Applicability Rating: 5.5/10

Key Thoughts: Byatt is a marvellous writer! I can’t believe I’ve never read anything of hers in full before (summer reading list = Possession). It was a bit of a lucky dip selecting one of her books to read for this endeavour, but somehow I ended up with her very first novel, The Shadow of the Sun. Unconventional, beautifully composed, yet incredibly frustrating, are how I would describe this book in which Byatt tells the story of a troubled, (overly) sensitive seventeen-year-old. Anna Severell is the daughter of a renowned novelist, and it is her struggle to discover and develop her own personality and to be/come someone while under the shadow of her father (the metaphorical ‘sun’) which drives most of the action (or more accurately, it is Anna’s continued refusal to act which causes things happen).

With regards to ‘women’s leadership,’ the topic is not explored in any great depth or detail. However, Anna does make a few succinct observations on what it means to be a man or a woman searching for his/her ‘place in the sun’ in a world of binary opposites and socially constructed expectations and ideas. For example, in a confrontation between Anna and her Father, Byatt writes:

Anna studied him with a gentleness that was not his, but Caroline’s. A sceptical female gentleness. She saw that he had been carried away by a picture of her, having inherited his power, advancing further along his path, and she was touched by a faith in her which she had never hoped to see. But she had thought more about it than he had, and was more aware than he was of the difference there was between his power, and whatever she had inherited from him. She feared that she lacked his bodily strength, that she was not his size, that she could not be prodigal of power as he was, but must husband her resources or be easily exhausted, even when she had found out how to use them. This was partly because she was a woman; also because she was a woman she was constantly tempted as he would never have been, to give up, to rest on someone else’s endeavour, to expend her energy ‘usefully’ at the kitchen sink. And this, she thought, made it harder to go on looking for ways to go forward, when one had to fight against the temptation – socially approved – to stay where one was. She thought, he doesn’t really know, with a certain scorn (p. 200).

5. Top Girls (1982) by Caryl Churchill

Applicability Rating: 8/10

Relevant Themes: Women at work, masculinities, agentic leadership, capitalism

Key Thoughts: For reasons which make no sense to me now, I actually hated this play when I first read it. But after watching a screen version and re-reading the text, I've developed a new appreciation for Churchill’s witty, yet ultimately tragic insights into the modern (70s/80s) workplace.

The most striking feature of the play is that all the characters in it are women and no men appear on stage for its entire duration. Act I opens with Marlene, the newly appointed Managing Director of ‘Top Girls’ Employment Agency, formally celebrating her promotion with a group of 'friends.' But these aren’t just any friends, they are a curious mix of women from the past, both fictional and real. Marlene opens the evening cheerfully, saying: “We’ve all come a long way. To our courage and the way we changed our lives and our extraordinary achievements.” (They laugh and drink a toast). (p. 14). The interplay between all these diverse characters and personalities is both clever and entertaining, as each are given a chance (albeit while constantly being interrupted) to share their [his]story with the group.

However, their individual ‘successes’ are not necessarily worth celebrating. In describing the premise for the play, Churchill writes: “I wanted to set off, with all those historical women celebrating Marlene’s achievement, to look as if it were going to be celebration of women achieving things, and then to put other perspectives on it, it show that just to achieve the same things that men had achieved in capitalist society wouldn’t be a good object.” Churchill explores this contradiction as she moves into Act II set in the office of ‘Top Girls’ Employment Agency.

In his commentary on the play, Bill Naismith observes that “the office women have achieved relative success and independence within a system created essentially by men” (p. xxxv). Within this capitalist economy and blatantly hierarchical company, it is only the fittest who survive (seemingly irrespective of their gender). Marlene and her colleagues are largely dismissive of men (‘Men are awful bullshitters’ they contend), and they are certainly clever and capable, but they fail to challenge patriarchal authority and have themselves become agentic 'Queen Bees' (determined and ruthless) in order to succeed in a ‘man’s world.’ This is no more obvious than when Angie, Marlene’s ‘niece,’ shows up at her office and Marlene takes a recognizably 'masculine' (cold, distant) stance as she is unwilling to undermine her image or professionalism by giving Angie what she desperately needs - recognition, care, and a helping hand. However, Churchill is still sensitive to the intense difficulties and criticism women like Marlene face in entering top jobs in the workforce.

So yes, while we can celebrate instances the success and achievement of individual women in the workplace, Churchill asks, at what cost? If one still has to mould oneself to fit a patriarchal/masculine model to succeed, then we still desperately need to reform the system. 

6. Calling Invisible Women (2012) by Jeanne Ray

Applicability Rating: 6.5/10

Relevant Themes: Collective action, middle-aged women, perceptions

Key Thoughts: This is a light-hearted, clever little book, easily read in one sitting. The premise is simple, but enduringly(?) relevant. Women who, after a certain age, are no longer valued for their beauty or intelligence, and have little real ‘power’ left beyond the private sphere, inevitably start to feel invisible. But what happens, Ray asks, when they actually become invisible?

While there are moments of 'leadership', such as when the protagonist, Clover, starts a collective movement to help invisible women become recognised, appreciated and, ultimately, cured of their invisibility, I would shy away from using this book as, at times, it does come across as a bit silly. The metaphor itself is powerful, but I would have preferred to see it used as the premise for a short story. Especially since in some of the chapters it felt like Ray was struggling to make up her word count and many of the characters were frustratingly one-dimensional (such as Clover’s daughter). 

New on the Reading List:

Flow Down Like Silver	Ki Longfellow	2009	Historical Fiction
White Oleander	Janet Fitch	1999	Novel
Little Black Book of Stories	A S Byatt	2005	Short Stories
We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves	Karen Joy Fowler	2013	Novel
The Last Runaway	Tracy Chevalier	2013	Historical Fiction
Remarkable Creatures	Tracy Chevalier	2009	Novel
Wrong Place, Wrong Time	Tilia Klebenov	2013	Thriller

I feel that I finally have an adequate representation of novels, plays & short story collections, enough to provide a meaningful commentary on what could possibly work and what definitely won't. Almost large enough to begin ‘grouping’ into genres/themes/patterns. For example:

• Historical Literature – slavery, pre-1850, pre-1980
• Modern/Contemporary Fiction
• Feminist Fiction
• Short Stories
• Prize-winning Literature
• Dystopian + Science Fiction

I imagine that by the end of the Christmas break I'll have read (or skimmed in some cases) 40+ books (narrowed down from 100+ ). I do have some ideas on how I will utilise the myriad options in my thesis, but that's another post entirely! 

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.