In the driver’s seat

I’m just going to need a few minutes to get the hang of this. Don’t bother me. (SDASM archives)

I have many fond memories of taking the students of The Little Middle School on trips.

We went to Chattanooga, Savannah, Washington, D.C., and St. Augustine.

We visited compelling attractions and bonded on the bus. We sang David Bowie in the lobby of our hostel.

And the students were prohibited from asking me any questions.

They still did it, of course. And I redirected them to my second-in-command.

You see, I was working so hard to think ahead and keep everyone safe and fed that I didn’t have any additional bandwidth to engage with random inquiries like, “how much longer are we going to be here?” or “Where are we going for dinner?”

Forbidding the questions allowed me to show up with warmth and kindness and not bite anyone’s head off. With the energy I had left over after making sure everyone was alive and accounted for, I could enjoy the company of my students and colleagues.

Here's why being in a leadership position of any kind, including being a parent, is so stressful and exhausting, even when it doesn’t seem like you’re doing anything more than anyone else.

It’s the difference between being the driver of a car and the passenger.

Both the driver and the passenger are sitting. They’re looking out the windows. They’re singing along with the radio.

But the passenger can rest. The passenger can take their eyes off of the road. The driver cannot.

The driver is constantly scanning for threats, monitoring speed, assessing conditions, and making hundreds of tiny decisions in order to get everyone safely to their destination.

As a leader, you’re doing this in the workplace. As a parent, you’re doing this everywhere. Every decision you make, no matter how small, requires you to expend effort. Staying vigilant in order to protect your people from things that could go wrong drains your intellectual, emotional, and physical resources. And to do all of these things while maintaining a friendly demeanor takes additional emotional energy.

This is why, as a leader, you’re not just tired, but exhausted. And this is why you need and deserve all the support you can get. And why you should hand off any task or project you can, even if you could theoretically do it.

You’ve already got a job, and it’s enough.

I certainly could have answered all of the random questions, but it would have cost me. It would have used up the energy reserves I was desperately trying to hang onto in order to deal with the unexpected rain or the missing Metro card.

I had to do the part that only I could do and let others help me with the rest. Even though it didn’t look like I was doing much, I was doing a lot of internal work.

In the driver’s seat, you have the power — but you also have the responsibility. If something goes wrong, it’s on you. You don’t have the luxury of relaxing until you have safely arrived at your destination.

It would have been a mistake for me to take on more just to try to be nice. It’s not too nice to cause twenty-five people to miss a flight just because someone wanted to tell me a joke or complain about the weather, and I nodded politely while overloading my circuits. I didn’t need to be the hero and do everything. I merely needed to do my part.

Many people, particularly women, seem to feel needless guilt based on what they “should” be able to do. But is it possible that the parameters of what you think you should be able to do are based on being the passenger, not the driver?

Ever seen those pictures comparing what Obama looked like in 2008 to how he looked in 2016? Being in charge is a big job. It takes its toll. If you understand this, it can prevent you from feeling unnecessary guilt and help you manage your expectations and energy. Then, you can teach the others. It’s good for them. They need to know. Someday, it will be their turn to be in the driver’s seat.