The Unexpected Burden of Leadership

The writer is a current president.

Much has been said about how difficult the job of a president is these days.

As someone who has served in many executive leadership roles, I honestly thought there had been too much whining about the “poor presidents.” Many a time I said to my administrative colleagues, “Well, if you paid me a million dollars a year, I would be happy to take the heat.” This year I had the opportunity to put my money where my mouth is and accepted a presidency.

I expected the many meetings trying to get to know the campus, the culture, the people. I expected the political sandwich between the board and the campus community. I expected the grueling travel schedule, while also trying to manage the home front. And I expected the political jockeying by members of my leadership team.

What I did not expect was the emotional toll of having others look to me for validation, vindication, and acceptance. As president, you are the symbol of the institution—a living mascot. One donor said, after chatting with me at a football game, that he felt like he’d “just met royalty.”

You are expected (and need) to always be on, always have the answers, always be calm and collected, and be willing to have pies thrown at you at any moment—whether at a board meeting, the Rotary Club, the Faculty Senate, or while out walking your dog.

When people you don’t know yet come up to you, they are often looking for something intangible, more emotional than substantive. They want to take selfies with you, because they believe it brings them a certain cachet, power, legitimacy. Today, I have no more of those things than I did six months ago, yet there is an expectation that now I can somehow bestow them.

In retrospect, as I moved into this position, I was well prepared for all of the logical aspects of the presidency, after spending several years in a major leadership role that did not report directly to a board. In that role, I worked my tail off under a leader who took all the credit for my work and the work of others, but who still complained about how hard the job was. My growing demoralization in that role was less about someone else taking credit for my work than about not having the tools to operationalize my own values and vision for higher ed.

So, when the opportunity for my current role was presented to me, I felt confident. I had plenty of experience with strategic planning, student success, budget planning, enrollment management, fundraising, research foci, marketing, government relations, alumni relations, athletics, community engagement, and union negotiations.

All of these present challenges, but they are also team sports. The less tangible and lonelier parts of the job require a different set of skills. Much has been said of the need for emotional intelligence, and the best leaders have that in abundance.

But it takes a toll to be always giving the validation people seek without attending to replenishing your own personal well. For me that means long walks, yoga, days off, and binge-watching Hulu’s In Vogue: The 90s.

The emotional toll is real, but I know that if I do the job well, it is well worth paying.