EMOTIONAL INVESTMENT
Throughout my career (and life), I’ve often been told I invest too much. That I’m too emotional. Well forgive my ‘French’ - but so-fucking-what? I think most women have had that ‘your too emotional’ trope levelled at them as a barrier to overcome when in senior leadership roles, however I would argue that as a leader (and facilitator), being emotionally invested in the work is vital.
In fact, at the ripe old age of 53 - I’ve finally decided that my emotional investment is actually my super power and I will NOT be shamed for it. I will cry. I will cheer. I will be angry and I will rejoice in the fact that it not only makes me who I am, but it also makes me bloody good at my job.
Over the years, when motivating teams, working with disaffected young people, inspiring groups and developing work, I will put my heart and soul into the creative endeavour - and I must admit there have been times when I have questioned if the balance was wrong. Was I investing too much?
Staying up late to tea stain paper to make it look like an old parchment for a primary school treasure hunt, or doing extra-curricular research at home on a grime artist for an arts award study because the school computer wouldn’t allow us to access the needed websites. Spending time having a cup of tea with someone who has come in early because the rehearsal space is heated and they have no one to chat with at home. Crying in a meeting because you are passionate about the work you do and you need a moment to collect your thoughts and re-make your argument and prepare for the next steps.
The examples I have could go on and on.
In a world where ‘self-care’ is top of the agenda, I do wonder whether we are potentially in danger of under-valuing the emotional investment in our work, which I think would lessen the impact of the work being done. I guess (yet again) everything is a balancing act - but one thing I have stopped, is worrying about the question - “is it just me?” … it’s not! Throughout this study, and with all the reading I’ve done and all the people I’ve met, the biggest common-denominator is the emotional investment both in the work being created, and to the people/communities creating it.
For me the argument is simple - as a facilitator or leader or strategic thinker (or whatever the role is) - if we don’t care about the people in the room and the work being created, why should they?
My emotional investment is my super power.
When I was younger I used to think I had to ‘put on a brave face’ in board meetings or ‘be the one with all the answers’ in the room. Perhaps one of the joys of being at this stage in my career is the strength I have to walk into a room not knowing all the answers (I love a blank canvas and a lot of questions), as well as the strength to show my emotions at a strategic level and be honest as to why they are there.
The downside is that (at times), I will invest more, and feel more, and care more than others, but I now think - yes. How amazing is that. This rollercoaster, this ride, this industry! The experiences I’ve facilitated over the years, the stories and memories and relationships I’ve cultivated are unique and exceptional and the highs and the lows of this profession are what make it exciting and challenging and awful all at the same time - and it’s also why that old clique of ‘not everyone is cut out for it’ is also true.
Now I’m not saying, put yourself in danger. I’m not saying sacrifice yourself for your art. What I AM saying is that emotional investment shouldn’t be demonised. It should be celebrated.
What I'm reading (and being inspired by) this month:
The Club on the Edge of Town: A Pandemic Memoir
by Alan Lane
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