Dave Deveau, Artistic Leadership Resident 2024 (Leadership in Time of Crisis)
What I may or may not know
I was fortunate enough to be part of NTS’ Leadership in Crisis Cohort, a pairing of 12 emerging leaders and 12 seasoned mentors from all across the country, coming together to dissect and posit what leadership is, and how we make it work through challenging times.
And after a week holding space together, I honestly don’t know what leadership means, not leadership with a capital L because it’s often bandied about as someone in a suit, at a podium, giving directives. But since I write for a living (though more grants than plays these days), and all of our attention spans have suffered so much under the weight of screens and capitalism, I thought I’d offer up what I do know, as a listicle:
- Leadership is finding ways to see myself in how others see me;
- That I take great solace in the fact that all of us are just humans who do things with all their foibles;
- That being at the helm of a company is about authenticity, rather than being about emulating existing models of leadership;
- That leadership cannot exist without tangible, palpable, authentic relationship with community, and as my sweet friend-colleague and fellow cohort member Jovanni Sy reminded us, any community by definition will be dynamic, and will fracture under stress. Relationships with community are no different than with romantic partners – sometimes things are great, and also many times they’re not and there’s work to be done to get them back to being right, those stresses, left unresolved, can be volatile. The digging in, the trying to get it right, but often getting it wrong and acknowledging it, that’s the work. That’s the leadership;
- That there’s no place for fear, and at the same time, fear is ever-present. Fear of getting it wrong, fear of letting people down, fear of making the wrong move, or making the right but hugely unpopular decision. As my incredible friend-colleague and fellow cohort member Micheline Chevrier told us: “I don’t act out of fear because there’s a great deal of preparation which is the solid ground I stand on. Doubt, sure, but never fear”;
- That four seasons into my tenure at the company I co-run, I’m starting to meaningfully understand what I’m doing. Which isn’t to say I’ve not had direction. I’ve known what we’re trying for, what we’re course-correcting, but I’ve been so busy in the weeds of the the day-to-day paired with Russian dolls of crisis, that I haven’t seen the whole garden, the whole block, the city, the planet. But I see it now, with remarkable clarity;
- That we don’t talk about how to lead. At least we didn’t until this week. We expect that those of us who are privileged and fortunate enough to get selected for these leadership positions inherently know what leadership is and how to execute it. But it’s an amorphous concept, it’s bespoke and individual, and ever-changing to the needs of a community, an organization, a political landscape, possible futures;
- That I am not the company I lead, but it is me, in a sense. I am the tenant who is painting the walls and redecorating in a way that makes sense to me, in a way that makes me want to invite people over to socialize and contemplate, and argue in good faith. And someday I will move out, but until that day, it needs to make sense to me;
- That when I arrived at NTS, truthfully I felt a bit broken. Beyond the usual cycle of despair and desperately seeking a way out of an industry in crisis. Overwhelmed by the overwhelm. But what a happy accident that a 41 year old father of two, early mid-career artist would end up in a cohort of 26-35 year olds. I felt my age. Big time. And was in the unique position of having person and professional relationship with half the “mentor” cohort. And I very quickly accepted my role as the generational bridge, holding space for big feelings on both ends, on top of my own very huge ones, and grappling with how to pull those ends toward one another, and in turn, myself toward them both in an expansive and beautiful way. Like a chiropractic extension, feeling the space and possibility between my bones. I’m grateful to have been put in this potentially untenable position. Because that’s were I could feel leadership. That’s the tangible, practical piece, right there. And in the fog of that week, through a series of surprising, unexpected, and unrelated incident, moments, happenings, I saw myself for the first time. For the first time, I saw the person my community sees, rather than the often crippling doubt, the imposter syndrome that these positions only enhance.
- That we all have imposter syndrome. Even those who don’t admit it. Especially them. We are all just getting through it one day at a time. How human.
- And finally, and perhaps most of all, and that I am a leader. Perhaps I’ve always been one. People look to me for work, advice, direction. So I need to stop doubting it and believe in myself and see inarguably what has happened, what I’ve achieved, and am achieving, instead of just the uncertainty of what potentially lies ahead.
