In praise of small leaders

I found that bit of wisdom in the obituaries published after Pete Seeger’s death. Seeger claimed he was a communist, but he obviously wasn’t a Stalinist. In his last years, he became a prime example of a small leader as he focused much of his political activism on the preservation of the Hudson River — the kind of limited goal that attracts small leaders.

We should keep Seeger’s injunction in mind as we begin the political marathon that culminates in November 2016. For most of the next two years, we’re going to be besieged by politicians making grandiose claims, magnified by the billions of dollars the political parties and the news media spend ballyhooing the presidential campaign. We would all be better off if we followed the first half of Seeger’s advice and eyed the uproar with skeptical wariness.

As for the small leaders — I’ve met a number of small leaders in the 60 years I’ve lived in Philadelphia and he was absolutely right. You can’t have too many.

Some of the small leaders I know are primarily advocates, like the core members of the Bicycle Coalition of Greater Philadelphia and other environmental groups. Others are primarily creators, like the hardy visionaries who start theater groups and music organizations. When you read a theater or concert review in Broad Street Review, the event took place because somebody wrote all the grant applications and sent out the fund-raising mailings that maintain American arts organizations. When you walk or bicycle along the Schuylkill Banks trail, you are profiting from the efforts of all the amateur lobbyists and publicists who’ve campaigned for more bicycle and pedestrian facilities.

No limits

I’ve known some of those advocates for 40 years. I’ve watched them patiently confront the indifference and hostility of an automobile-oriented society. You won’t see their names enshrined on plaques, but I don’t think most of them care. Unlike presidential candidates, they tend to be focused on results, not image building.

I’ve known small leaders who were public school activists, small leaders who organized town walks, small leaders who organized conventions and special events like reading series, small leaders who founded professional societies, small leaders who set up tutoring programs — there’s no limit to the possibilities.

Sooner or later, most normal humans become sick of the presidential extravaganza. Don’t sink into a stupor when that deadly gloom descends on your soul. Consider becoming a small leader. If you can’t become a small leader yourself, find a small leader you can work with. (Note that I said work with. Small leaders tend to have colleagues, not followers.) You won’t enjoy the heady delusion you’re marching behind the savior of a great nation, but you might actually accomplish something. And you won’t have to spend your days campaigning for the job.

We only need one president, but we usually have 10 to 15 candidates vying for our support, with dozens of secret dreamers lurking on the sidelines. The number of small leaders we need always exceeds the number of volunteers.