Indigenous Perspectives on Leadership: A Communal Reflection

Betty Merchant

Professor, Department of Educational Leadership and Policy Studies, University of Texas at San Antonio

I am deeply grateful to the people who took the time to share their thoughts for this special issue focused on indigenous perspectives on leadership. I have known Dr. Felisa Gulibert, Mr. Ron Lovato, and Mr. Joseph Abeyta for more than two decades, in conjunction with a partnership that existed at the time between the Santa Fe Indian School and the University of Illinois, Urbana–Champaign. I was introduced to Dr. Rijasoa Andriamanana and Mr. Raymond Gachupin by Dr. Hal Schultz (PhD, University of Illinois, Urbana–Champaign) a longtime friend and colleague, whom I first met when he was Assistant Superintendent of the Santa Fe Indian School. As Mr. Abeyta’s father once observed, “God turned his head when Schultz was born, because he should have been Indian.”

The opportunity to talk with these five individuals was predicated on my promise that I would not alter the content of what was shared with me in our interviews. Trust was something that had to be re-affirmed, because in the time between our last encounter and now, I had amassed almost 20 additional years in academia. Mr. Abeyta, in particular, was concerned that I might have become socialized to the way of conducting research that had consistently “missed the mark” when it came to Native people. It was precisely this concern that necessitated two visits to his home—the first time, for him to determine whether or not I had changed for the worse as an academic, or whether I could be trusted. Fortunately, his concerns were alleviated during that visit, and he invited me back a second time to talk with him.

Before submitting their interviews for publication, all authors were given the final transcripts to review and edit, to ensure that what is presented in the journal remains faithful to their intent. The first four cases are listed in alphabetical order by author and precede Dr. Andriamanana’s case, which focuses on Madagascar. The authors who contributed the interviews that follow did so with the understanding that their individual interviews, when considered collectively, could help readers gain a preliminary understanding of some of the fundamental values associated with indigenous leadership. Consistent with this intent, readers are urged to read all five interviews before engaging in discussions related to this material.

Joseph Abeyta

Former Superintendent, Albuquerque and Santa Fe Indian Schools

Tribal Member, Santa Clara Pueblo

As we prepare to discuss leadership and my role in developing the plan for the first Indian contract school in America under P.L. 93 638, the Indian Self-Determination and Assistance Act, ¹ the following statement is my basic belief regarding all the work that I have done: I am a product of my experiences, and the decisions I make and every choice I make is directly related to my life and things I believe. I’d like to emphasize that I believe—and it’s getting more and more embedded in the way I think—what I believe and why I participate in my community—I am a product of my experiences. And what that means, obviously, is that decisions I make, the ideas that I’ve got, are the result of experiences.

So first, let me tell you that Santa Clara is my home. It’s a relatively small village in north central New Mexico and our village has been here for a very, very long time. And as a matter of fact, our ancestors came from the prehistoric Puye Cliffs just a couple of miles from here. They just simply moved down the road to our present location, so we’ve been here for a very, very longtime, and over that long period of time, there’ve been values that have been fortified as a result of experience, and those experiences have been shared with the current generation of people that live here today. So that’s an influence—just living in Santa Clara and being part of this community.

I went to a boarding school in Santa Fe, New Mexico. The school was St. Catherine’s Indian School. A lot of people, including many of my classmates, that I run into from time to time, were students at St. Catherine’s, and they talk about their experience as being a significant influence on their lives, and their experience at St. Catherine’s prepared them for the lives they live today. And there are other people, that are probably a minority, that didn’t have great experiences. For me, there was a continual question about why we were doing things at St. Catherine’s the way we did them. Certainly, there was a reason. I guess the reason came from the founders of the school in the 1800s about what the school’s agenda would be. Clearly, it was a belief in Christianity, and that went on there without a lot of participation on the part of students or anyone else. I wondered why we did the things we did at school, and thought there was a better way to teach and to learn. I didn’t like school, and I wasn’t very successful as a student at St. Catherine’s. I don’t know who’s got my transcripts and my record from St. Catherine’s, but if someone ever finds them, they’ll see a lot of poor grades that include behavior, and the behavior grades were probably worse than my academic record.

And it was just this attitude that there was something wrong. I could not put my finger on it, but over a period of time, I felt that what they were teaching was different from what my parents and my grandparents were teaching. I couldn’t distinguish between the two. They were both committed to responsibility. They were both committed to determination. They were both committed to a good life in terms of behaving yourself and doing the right things. As a matter of fact, there were similar values as I recall, but somehow, there was something wrong that just didn’t work.

My experience in school was that you have to compete as a condition for success. If you don’t compete, and sit in the back of the room, you get a grade that isn’t a reflection of your intellect. It is a reflection of your experiences to a great extent that you don’t participate in a way that gets you recognition. I remember on some occasions at home when my friends from Saint Catherine’s, who were from other Pueblos would come here, I’d hide from them, because I didn’t want to have them come to my house, because we did things here that we weren’t taught to do at school. Everything from “How do you butter a piece of bread?” to “Where do you put your fork for salad?” School and home were two different places. School was a different world, and over a period of time, you were conditioned to believe this is the way that the real world works. I was being taught: “This is the way that you do things.” This is the way that you become an American. But it was different from how my grandfather behaved. So, for 9 months out of a year, I was being told one thing, and for 3 months, while at home, I was told something different. As an example, when my grandfather butchered an animal, people from the Pueblo would come to help, and when the job was done, everyone took home a piece of meat. My grandfather shared, and the sharing contributed to the good feeling of community. The family cooked and prepared meals using the entire animal.

My grandpa didn’t have any teeth, and I can remember sitting at the table with him. He would roast the head of the sheep and after the head was roasted, my grandma would put it in front of him on a little tin platter, and he had a hammer that he would use to crack the head and dig out the brains, and it was for him, a delicacy. Even the marrow from the bones, he’d dig out and he’d say, “Sonny, this is good for you.” And I’m thinking, yes, grandpa. I’m sure it’s good for me. But we never did that at school, and I lived at school for 9 months, and we ate in the dining hall, and the cook was a very nice lady, but I’m sure she never butchered an animal the way we butchered here. At school, we were told that “This is how things are done” and if you didn’t do it properly, we were slapped on our hands with the comment, “That’s not good manners.” Literally, everything that my grandfather was doing was objectionable; it was not appropriate. I loved the man, I loved my grandma, and to hear what we were being taught at school was confusing, and a contradiction to what I was learning in Santa Fe.

Indian education, taught by Indian people, was filled with lessons for life. Those lessons were internalized. The lessons were not taught in an American school setting, but they were taught every day as a part of life. And as you read in the literature, the melting pot—somebody’s idea—put everybody into a pot and stir it around, and you get an outcome. And being an Indian, and I assume with other nationalities also, that held you back from your role in America that had been defined by, as they call them, the “Fathers” of this country. I never met any of them, and I never really understood exactly what they were about. We certainly read about George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and Hamilton, as being great people, along with all the other people that were part of all those early years. But they weren’t by any means a reflection of me, and they weren’t in any way, in my opinion, an example that I could latch on to in terms of wanting to be like them. And the people that I respect, and the people that I enjoy, and the people that I was comfortable with were never, ever discussed. So, the point I’m trying to make is that early on in school I couldn’t figure out what I didn’t like about school, but I just knew something was wrong with the experience.

And as time would go on, I realized that we were unique. We had a set of values, we had a set of principles, we had procedures, we had a protocol that was uniquely ours. They were ours, since . . . as the people in the village say, “Since the beginning of time.” And we can show that we were here for years, and years, and years before these visitors that came to America. Little by little, I began to realize that Santa Clara Pueblo had an educational system that was not recognized by the state, the federal government, and the Catholic Church. There were politicians that I can remember coming to my grandpa’s house, saying “Don’t vote—don’t participate in our system because if you do, we’re going to have to come and get involved in your way of life.” This was really very significant for me, because it represented another challenge to Santa Clara’s educational system. And it was confusing because we were told,

Here’s your place, and here’s our place. Now, you want to come and be part of us in this small little valley? Then you’re going to open the door for us having to come and get involved in your community. Fair is fair.

And it was an intimidating thought. “You are of no value. You’ve got nothing to contribute beyond what we’re able to give you through our educational program. That is, the condition for you becoming part of us and part of America.”

There was never any recognition that Indian people should be a part of the development of education for our children. The education of Native children never took into consideration the fact that there is Indian education that has contributed to our survival, and it was at this point that I began to think about programs that could include a Native perspective. I realized, that, as Indian people, we have conceded to the federal government the responsibility for educating our children without our involvement as Indian people, and we’ve been doing this for as long as we’ve allowed newcomers to attempt to change our ways. It was dramatic, and I kept thinking about it. Why are we letting others decide for us what an education program should be? As these questions were being debated in my mind, I read a statement made by Adolph Hitler as he planned for his idea of a perfect society. He said, “Give me your children and I can create a new Germany.”

Two experiences that I’ll share with you crystallized my thinking for me, in my later years. They were, Number 1, an opportunity to meet a man from Los Alamos, New Mexico, who was a physicist. He knew that I was a teacher, and he was always questioning what we were doing to incorporate our belief system and our values into an education program for our children. He told me that he wasn’t accepted in school. Now, he is a physicist! When he was a student, he couldn’t understand math and he said, “I was just so frustrated that I could not do math the way it was being taught, and then finally, I realized that I was operating on base eight and the school was operating on base ten.” He said,

Consider for a second, kids that grow up with base eight, now being told to solve problems using base ten, without an explanation. There’re eight sides to my hogan, and using my hogan as a reference, I could solve mathematical problems. How many sheep we had. How many we had to sell to make X number of dollars, using base eight. But then when I went to school, none of that was of value, because we were being taught something else.

But he had an intellect. He had some basic smarts that were not acknowledged and not recognized, and so he was on the verge of being thrown out as a special education student that needed special help. And he said, “Thank God for my mentor,” who he ran into, that helped him realize that he had a mind. For me, that was really inspiring.

The second person similarly was from a Pueblo—not from Santa Clara. He was from a different Pueblo, and he was a good friend of my father’s. And on occasion, during the course of a year, my father and I would go to his Pueblo for different activities, and we’d always go to this man’s house. And they always went through the same exchange. My dad’s friend would say, “Oh, Joe (my father). How are you? How are you doing? Come in, come in. Have something to eat.” Then he’d look at me and he’d say, “Joe, this is your son?” And my dad, for the hundredth time, would say, “Yeah, this is my son.” And so, this man would look at me and say, “Oh, you’re a principal. You’re in education.” And he didn’t talk English all that well, but he could communicate very well. And I’d say, yes. And he’d say,

You ask your dad about my education, because I’m stupid. I’m dumb. And your dad knows, because I was in the third grade for three years. I couldn’t get out of the third grade, because I was too stupid to learn, and so finally I had to go home, because I couldn’t learn. I was thrown out of school, and they told me that I couldn’t come to school, because I was holding all the other kids up. They couldn’t learn because they were waiting for me.

Then the visit was over, and we would return back to our Pueblo.

On the way home I’d ask my dad, “Tell me about your friend,” and so, my dad would tell me the same story. He’d say,

This man is a genius. A genius in every sense of the word. If there was a way for him to be evaluated, he’d be considered a historian. He knows things that not a lot of other people know. He knows history. He’d be a doctor. He knows medicine. He knows when to go to the mountains to harvest the roots, when they’re ripe, when they’re ready to be harvested to use in healing. He’s a philosopher. He could share has beliefs about life in an easy way to understand. This man is an incredible person. He’s a genius.

And then my dad would say, “And I hope you don’t make the same mistake that was made with him. The school didn’t know what was behind his eyes.” And my dad would say, “This man is smart, but the school and all its teachers, with all their education, couldn’t recognize that this man was a super intellect.” People from all different places and different Pueblos would come to him for advice. They’d come to him for help because he knew about life. Then my father would say, “I’m proud that that’s my friend, because I enjoy listening to him and talking to him, because he sees things a lot differently from how other people see things.”

And then I’d say, “Dad, tell me about the part about the eyes.” And he would say, “In the Catholic church you’re baptized.” I said, “Yes. I’ve got a certificate at home that says I was baptized. And I got a name.” And he’d say, “You made your first communion.” “Yes,” I’d say. “I’ve got another little certificate that says I made my first communion.” He said, “You were confirmed.” And I said, “Yeah. Yes, of course.” And he said, “Well, all of these things—when you meet somebody like Betty Merchant. Does she know you’re confirmed and you’re carrying that blessing from the Catholic church?” “Probably not, unless I tell her.” “Does she know what’s behind your eyes that is the basis for what you see and how you interpret, and how you internally come to conclusions?” “No.” “Well, be careful with your kids, because you don’t know what they’re carrying.” And the way he said it is,

You don’t know what’s behind their eyes. Some of the children are blessed people. Some of them have got a role in their communities as significant leaders, but you can’t see. Like this old man—his teachers couldn’t see what he had behind his eyes, but his people did. And he was acknowledged by people from other communities because he was very, very smart. And he knew things, but people, other than Indian people, couldn’t see that he had this. and he was pushed out.

But he said,

Consider for a second if he had stayed in school and graduated. During his day, he probably would have retired as a janitor. During his day, he probably would have retired as somebody who took care of animals or herded sheep. And his Pueblo would’ve lost out on this man—lost out on this very bright man that grew up in the traditions of his community, because he started very, very young, because the formal school, the American school, wouldn’t accept him.

And so, it makes you think, God, how many kids, how many superior intellects, have gone through the system and were not accepted, because the system couldn’t see what was behind their eyes and didn’t understand them?

So, all of these things were in my mind, and as I got older, I began to see more clearly what I couldn’t understand as a kindergarten student, or what I couldn’t understand as a young elementary school student, or what I couldn’t understand in college. And finally, I came to the conclusion that we need desperately to create our own school that is sensitive to our needs as Indian people, that is developed from the perspective of our communities, not from the perspectives of only American scholars. We need to value our people. We need to value their insights. We need to value their intellects, because they have survived for longer than America has been here. And they must have had an education program. How do we begin to look at what that system is and if possible, translate it into formal education? And beyond that, how do we engage our people who have got so much to contribute, but because if they don’t have a high school diploma, or if they don’t have a degree, they’re ineligible to participate as a teacher beyond their community. But in their community, the degrees they’ve got are profound.

Like my dad said about this old man, “He’s a genius.” And this man, that is, a physicist, he was able to figure out for himself how he kept his Indian values, and at the same time participate in an American education system. He is an accepted scientist at Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory and he still maintains his traditions, and for a lot of people, I can remember them saying, “You can’t have both. Either you’re going to be an Indian grounded in your culture, in your tradition, or you’re going to be an American. You can’t have both.” I believe you can have both if both are given equal value. There are ways to have both, and it starts with a school and an educational system that understands and accepts that Indian children are of value and that they have an intellect. This country of ours, through its lack of understanding of our children, is missing out on contributions of Indian people that can make a difference in creating a more loving and caring country.

Raymond Gachupin

Former Middle and High School Principal of Santa Fe Indian School

Former Director of Student Services at Southwestern Polytechnic Institute

Former Governor and Tribal Member, The Pueblo of Jemez

My name is Raymond Gachupin and I am from the Pueblo of Jemez. I am currently retired, having worked in the education profession for over 30 years. In addition to my professional career in education, I have also served as an appointed tribal official as a Sheriff (one term), Second Lieutenant Governor (one term), First Lieutenant Governor (one term), and Governor (three terms). Today I continue to serve in a tribal leadership role as a Tribal Councilman, a position that I will hold until such time I choose to retire from that position.

The intent of this paper is to provide my personal perspective on Indigenous Leadership. My perspective and understanding of tribal government is solely based on oral history, written literature, and my own personal experience as an appointed tribal leader for the Pueblo of Jemez. The content of this paper does not reflect my knowledge or understanding of other Pueblo Governance, although there may be some similarities.

Jemez Pueblo is a Native American community located 45 miles northwest of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Located in the foothills of the beautiful Jemez Mountains, of which the tribe owns approximately 160,000 plus acres which equates approximately to a third of its original ancestral lands. The 3,000 plus tribal members enjoy and take pride in their culture and the way of life that they maintain today through the practice of their tradition, culture, language, and government as passed on by the ancestors through their native language of Towa.

A sophisticated form of government existed among the Native Indigenous people of the Southwest when the Spaniards made contact with them. They encountered communities that were well organized and structured, and the Spanish described them as Pueblos (towns or villages). Since time immemorial, the central figure of tribal government has been the Cacique and his aides. The Spaniards referred to an Indigenous leader as Cacique, a title meaning that the individual is a recognized leader or chief of his people. The term and role of a Cacique still exist today in most Pueblos and still remains the central figure within tribal government.

The Spaniards had a very difficult time understanding the complex organization and governmental structure of the Pueblo. To compensate for the lack of their understanding or tolerance, they imposed and institutionalized their form of government within the Pueblo communities. They introduced and implemented the concept of a Governor, Lieutenant Governor, Fiscales (Church Officers), and a Sheriff. This new secular government would be the liaison between the tribal government and the Spanish Government, thus creating a government-to-government relationship and recognizing each Pueblo’s sovereign status. As a recognition of the Pueblos’ newly established form of government, and acknowledgment of their sovereign status, King Philip III of Spain, in 1620, presented each Pueblo in the Province of New Mexico a Vara (Cane) with a Spanish emblem of a crown on the top of each Vara. Today, the same Vara is passed on to each newly appointed Governor for the Pueblo of Jemez as a symbol of authority and self-governance. Over two centuries later in 1863, each Pueblo of New Mexico would receive another cane from President Abraham Lincoln with his signature inscribed on the top of the canes. This act further acknowledged the recognition of the sovereign status of Pueblo people by the government of the United States.

At the end of each calendar year, usually about 2 to 3 days after the Christmas holidays, the Cacique will convene a meeting with his religious council and will deliberate until a consensus is reached to name and select new officials for the upcoming year. It is a time of high anxiety, anticipation, and wondering who will be the next leaders for the community. After a full night of deliberating, the Cacique and his Council will reconvene the appointment process the next day. The outgoing officials are instructed to summon and escort the newly named and selected individuals to the Kiva where an official appointment and announcement of the newly selected officials is made, and the Spanish Vara and the Lincoln Cane are bestowed and passed on to them. Individuals appointed to serve in the tribal government for the upcoming year are not aware of their selection until they are summoned by the outgoing officials. The community is not aware until the newly selected officials are summoned to the Kiva.

Leadership is viewed as the responsibility of the male members of the tribe. All adult males in the community are considered as eligible candidates for any of the appointed positions. Other officials, like the Sheriff, aides to the Governor, Fiscales, and War Captains, are selected by the outgoing aides; they get to name and select their own successor. The high-level officials (Governor, two Lieutenant Governors, two Fiscales, and two War Captains) are appointed by the Cacique and his Religious Council. There are no political affiliations for any of the appointed positions. As a community member of the Pueblo, it is a civic responsibility to fulfill and execute their role throughout the year that they are appointed for. An argument could be made that the tribal selection process of leaders is similar to an electoral college where the delegates from the 50 states cast a vote on behalf of their state for the President and Vice President. In this instance, the Cacique and his Religious Council serve as the delegates on behalf of their tribal members to select the leaders, the only difference being there is no popular vote by the citizens of the Pueblo.

The Governor aide positions tend to be filled by younger men who will potentially become the next generation of tribal leaders. The appointed positions are scrutinized more and are heavily debated during the selection process by the Cacique and the Religious Leaders. For the most part, there is a prerequisite that the individuals appointed to the higher level positions have had prior leadership experience. Most likely, they have served as a Lieutenant Governor, Assistant or Lieutenant War Captain, or Fiscale, and most likely they have also served as an aide to one of those positions. To be considered for any of the appointed positions, one has to be a tribal member, understand and speak fluent Towa, have a reputable character and integrity, have knowledge of the culture and tradition, and have some educational background.

An enormous amount of power to rule and govern is delegated by the Cacique and the Religious Leaders each year to the newly appointed tribal leaders. Even though the power of the Governors may seem absolute, it is understood the power to rule is not that of an autocrat but as a servant to the people. The yearly appointment also makes it very clear that no one leader will ever amass any totalitarian powers. The Cacique and the Religious Council are very clear that the role of tribal government is to protect the welfare of its people, to maintain law and order in the community, to protect and care for all natural resources referred to “Mother Earth,” to protect and safeguard the culture and religion of its people and foremost, to protect its sovereign status. These ideologies are articulated by the Cacique and the Religious Council each year during the inauguration of the newly appointed officials.

After a 1-year appointment to serve as Governor for the Pueblo, the outgoing Governor will be appointed to serve on the Tribal Council. The Tribal Council consists of individuals who have served as a Governor and will serve in that capacity for life or until such time they choose to leave their position as a councilman. Individuals currently serving on the Tribal Council can be reappointed as Governor, which is a common occurrence. The Tribal Council serves as a legislative body and is delegated by the Cacique and Religious Council to support and provide oversight to the Executive Branch.

Leadership is a shared community responsibility and duty. Individuals called to perform these duties are expected to fulfill that calling. One could make the analogy of a draft, as none of the individuals appointed choose to run for these positions. All of the appointed/selected tribal officials will serve their community for 1 year and as that year ends, the appointment process will start again, and a new group of leaders will be selected and appointed. The Governor and the two Lieutenant Governors are expected to take office on a full-time basis. This means that if they are employed elsewhere, they will have to take a leave of absence from their employment up to 1 year so that they can fulfill their obligation. In the last, approximately 40 years or so, the Governor, First Lieutenant Governor, and Second Lieutenant Governor have been and continue to be compensated. A leave of absence has to be negotiated by the individuals with their employer. For the most part, such negotiations have been helpful but in some instances, an individual may lose his job and may have to search for another job at the end of his term.

While the Governor and his administration are expected to uphold the ideologies of their government, they also have to engage and interact with the state and federal government. The role of the Governor has become more complex today, in that it requires the Governor to be knowledgeable about the workings of the state and federal governments. He is the key leader and negotiator on behalf of his tribe, relating to all matters as they relate to the tribe’s economic, social, health, and educational welfare.

What are they looking for in the individual that they select to be Governor of the Pueblo for the year? They don’t discuss it publicly, but only among themselves, the qualities and characteristics. One can only assume that they are looking for someone with integrity, someone with a lot of cultural knowledge of the tribe and the language. Language is very important, so the individuals that get appointed as the tribal governor and governors for the year have to be fluent in our language. Our language is called Towa, and it is the only language that is spoken by the Jemez tribe. Our population is just a little over 3,000, so we’re the only Towa speakers, not in the United States but in the whole world. It’s a very unique language, so we do have to know this language very well, because a lot of the lectures and songs are all given in our Towa language. The individual that is appointed has to have a very clear understanding of the language and be able to speak it very well. Those are basically some of the characteristics that I believe that the Supreme Council is using in making their selection. Again, it’s integrity, and I think just the overall reputation of that individual. Is he a good person? Does he have a good heart? Is he strong? Can he demand respect from the tribal members? Will he be able to address the tribe in the language and be able to speak the language?

I remember when I was appointed for the very first time as a governor. The whole weight of the whole tribe and your community is now placed on your shoulders. Now, I had been a lieutenant governor twice in the past. I had been a second lieutenant governor and a first lieutenant governor, and those two positions are really more considered to be training grounds for perhaps moving up into the position of governor. Now, not everyone is appointed as governor, but as a governor, again, like I said, I mean, I just felt the whole weight on my shoulders. It was a very scary proposition for me personally at the time.

I didn’t have any campaign promises to carry through or to make. I didn’t make any campaign promises because we don’t do that. I mean, we’re just simply appointed. When you take over the office here, you basically are educated very quickly with some of the current issues and situations that the tribal office is dealing with. Always foremost, what I’ve learned as a tribal leader is that you have to constantly be safeguarding your sovereignty. Sovereignty is the most important, precious thing that we have as tribes, because we’re able to govern ourselves. We’re able to make our own rules and regulations within our own community, and self-governance.

That is probably the foremost thing that I learned upon being appointed in the tribal leadership—that you have to look out for your people. You have to look out for their safety at all times. How do you bring sustainability to our cultural existence in our community? How do you bring economic opportunity to your community so that you are providing jobs for people within the community? These are things that you start to deal with. Again, it wasn’t something that you formulate. It’s something that you know you have to do.

During my administration, as I got more comfortable and settled into my leadership role, I began to realize that there are some things I can do, that I can probably look at and explore some economic opportunities for our tribal members. There’s several things that, during my administration, I pursued. One of those was a woodlands project, because we have some forested area around the Jemez Mountains. We started what we call a thinning project. We bought a wood band saw that we used to split logs into 2 × 4 lumber, that type of thing. We started a little business.

Now, you have to remember also that I only have a year, because that’s all. The appointments are only for 1 year. Within that year, you just have to see what you could do. So again, a lot of these, what I learned as a leader is that you take on issues that are already there. The other thing is, you do have a choice to explore other ventures.

Another thing that, during my administration, we pursued—again this has a lot to do with our cultural identity’s survival—is that we did probably the largest human remains repatriation here in Jemez. We repatriated over two hundred and some thousand human remains from the Peabody Museum. It was a huge, huge venture. But again, during my administration, like I said, you begin to see what you need to do as a leader. Returning those remains was very important to my people, so we pursued that, and we were able to bring those human remains back, and rebury those remains where they belonged.

Again, the leadership can be a scary proposition initially, but as you get settled in, it can become a huge opportunity. Really get settled into where you’re comfortable, where you can start to do things that can help your community. Preservation of our culture, again, is extremely important. The language—very important. We’re now at a point where we’ll have to kind of revive our language. Our Head Start program does have what we call an immersion program now. That’s a battle that we have to fight, and we have to continue to make sure that we don’t lose that, because if we lose our language, we lose a lot of our speeches that were done in our Towa language. Some of the songs that we also have to sing in our language are critical to our culture and survival.

Something that I learned right along, in the beginning, was protecting sovereignty, like I mentioned before, but also surrounding yourself with knowledgeable and competent people, that as a leader, you have to recognize the talent that’s there. Also, communication skills, because now you’re in a position where you have to communicate, because you just don’t do things on your own. You have to deal with the outside world. I testified before a congressional hearing, so of course, you get people to help you with preparing you for that. You have to be open to those types of things. You have to be able to draw on the talent that’s around you, and not think that just because you’re the Governor, you can do it all. The first thing you have to realize is that you cannot do it all.

You have to definitely pull on the strength and the talent of other people around you, and look for it. Bring it in, and be open to some help—be open to some good advice. You have to be selective on how you select that advice. It’s just something that I think you start to learn as you are around people. Perhaps maybe a few times, maybe you got some wrong advice, and maybe took different actions. But again, I think failure sometimes is your best lesson. You learn from this. No different here, even in tribal politics. No different at all.

One of the other things that I’ve failed to mention is that now we have a very thriving health program here in Jemez. Health is also another very key issue for us, but we now have Jemez Wellness, a clinic that we contracted initially under my administration. We were able to start bringing in pieces of the functions of the Indian Health Services, and we said, “We can run this ourselves.” We started to do that. Little by little, we started to pull all the programs together. We now have a very thriving health program here. Actually, that’s probably one of our biggest businesses.

Again, it starts somewhere. I can honestly say I was able to at least open the door, and other leaders, other governors that have stepped in, have been very helpful in pushing this. They’ve kept the agenda going. It’s important that you work with people around you. The tribal council is a very important entity. Our tribal council members are the ones that make up our policies and procedures, so working with the tribal council is very critical also.

Felisa Gulibert, PhD

Former Principal, Santa Fe Indian School

I grew up in the South Pacific in the island nation of Palau on the small island of Angaur. I have lived primarily in Santa Fe for over 40 some years, as well as in Colorado, Illinois, and occasionally, back in my homeland.

My first teacher was my dad. Although he held several positions in the government, and later became the chief of our island of Angaur, his duties as a parent always came first. Through his teachings, particularly his example, I learned invaluable life skills as well as personal skills that helped me throughout my adult life. For example, after each tropical storm on our island, my dad, then the chief, along with his children, would be the first people out clearing debris from the roads. Soon, the community members would join the effort.

As chief of the island, my dad often held meetings with the head of each clan within the island. The manner in which these meetings were conducted was both fascinating and enlightening. I expected the chief, my dad, to run the meetings and to “call the shots”; after all, he was the chief. To my surprise, he listened attentively, remained calm, maintained humility, and always acknowledged each person, even when I knew he did not share the same thought. He never made a final decision without hearing from the head of each clan, or without the group’s consensus. And, even if one party disagreed, there was a time put aside to address all concerns. As a young person, that was very difficult, as it demanded great patience—which I did not have at the time—from all in attendance. You see, these meetings were for men only, but because I always wanted to be around him, and to make sure he did not forget about the fishing trip he promised me, I had to disguise myself as a boy in order to sneak into these meetings. I did, nevertheless, always sit behind his back to be respectful.

Most of the time I did not pay attention to the discussion, especially when old language was used. But one could not miss noticing that the group’s mutual respect for each member’s thoughts was the anchor of these meetings. No one raised his voice, and when one spoke, everyone listened. I soon realized that patience, humility, and listening to and respecting everyone’s opinion were critical elements of my dad’s leadership style. His approach is what kept everybody working as a team toward the same goal.

For what it’s worth, I will share my story. When I came to New Mexico, I was very comfortable around the Native American people because I witnessed that same sense of respect for one another and how all community members worked toward the good of their tribe. I was blessed to later work for the Santa Fe Indian School (SFIS) as a Director of Instruction/Principal. What I learned from my dad’s leadership approach as a young girl and from the Native American people helped me in my role as a (former) principal at the Santa Fe Indian School (SFIS).

I never thought of SFIS as an institution. Rather, I embraced it as my own community, and my role was to help guide all the students and faculty members as if they were members of my own community or family. My dad often said, “. . . as a leader, you are serving others and you must always look out for the good of everyone.” To me, my dad’s statement meant that I must listen to everyone regardless of age, background, or status. It also meant that I must refrain from speaking my mind without considering everyone’s opinion and that I must remain respectful. I wrote this statement in my personal notebook to remind myself about the importance of building a community or a family.

I found my leadership role at Santa Fe Indian School to be very rewarding because I worked for my new community/family rather than for an institution. I strongly believe that approaching any job as serving your community or a family does influence your attitude toward your work and how you approach people. As a school principal, this approach gave me the courage to think of my role as the head of my family, and it inspired me to strive to learn students’ names and to get to know them at a personal level. Doing so allowed me to help many students with both their academic and personal needs. Also, it helped define my purpose clearly because I was responsible for the well-being of this whole family. It warmed my heart, stimulated my thinking, and it energized me daily. I now had a purpose, and I was looking forward to working every day!

Using this approach of serving your community/family, I believe helps build a strong relationship among members. People open up to you, and it creates a safe environment where members are encouraged to help one another and explore new ideas. I truly believe that it builds a strong relationship among community members, that is, students and teachers. When we feel that we belong to a community, we care for one another and we journey together. We cannot leave one behind, and if one member gets weak or tired along the way, we step back and help take this person along.

From my experience as a school principal, the community/family concept helped me with my approach in dealing with every student who came to the school, regardless of personality. It made me realize that each one of them wants to learn, and he or she has a dream or a goal in mind, and would love to experience success. This helped me not to ignore anyone, and it gave me strength to work especially hard to assist each student because we, the adults, now have a responsibility to care for our children. When I addressed our community members (students, faculty, and support staff members), I addressed them as family members, and that made it so much easier for me to communicate with them. I’d like to think that they also appreciated the manner in which I addressed them. I feel they did.

My experience tells me that being in any leadership role, one must be very clear about the purpose and the mission of your community. Equally important is having a very clear roadmap as to how to attain your goal. You cannot be tentative about your expectations. You also have to set your expectations. Having a strong foundation helps tremendously. Also, always remain disciplined and do not lose sight of your destination. I learned quickly that when you appear unsure about where you are going and how to get there, it creates confusion and may even border on chaos. So it is critical that at the outset of creating your master plan, be transparent. One must make time to listen to all members, gather all the information, and include representatives of each group to assist in the planning process. Make a plan that will benefit your family members. In the process, keep members abreast by sharing that plan with everybody. Get input again from all members, make necessary changes, and allow time for thought processing and group consensus.

I remember that, at times, I was getting anxious because this process could be seen as inefficient. Reaching a group consensus does take time, but it is all worth it. Once the decision is reached, you feel good about it because you’ve done your duty and attained success. You collected all the information. You listened. You made changes based on members’ input. You validated the members of your community. Next, you must carry it through, stick with the approved plan and avoid making unexpected turns. You must make sure that all members understand what it looks like to succeed with our plan. For instance, what will it look like to be a successful member of your community? I do give credit to all those old men in my homeland who patiently gave their time in service to their people. They truly cared. Yes, caring is an important aspect in any productive community. When people know that we truly care about them and that we have their best interests in mind, they flourish. SFIS students often claimed that their success was possible because both teachers and support staff members truly cared about them as people, and that motivated them to do well in school. I keep going back to how important it is to demonstrate respect toward one another, to make time to listen to everyone, and get to know them.

I sometimes see that in the interest of trying to be efficient, we ignore the very critical aspects of the planning process, which often results in a plan that is shelved and collecting dust.

We also must keep reminding ourselves that a plan will not be carried through by creating a document and then dropping the effort. Communicate it verbally or through your actions as much as possible. The kids will get tired of it. The staff will get tired of it. But we must make it a part of our daily routine by breathing and communicating it on a daily basis; otherwise it will soon disappear. It must be a part of our daily operation and we must absorb it until it is imprinted in our minds, so that when members are making any decision that may affect our community, their decision is aligned with our plan. Yes, a written document has its purpose, but survival of any community, I believe, will happen through personal interaction with every member of the group. In a school system, we must include our parents and get to know them whether they are young or old, or of lesser or greater status.

We also must always make an assumption that every member of our community wants to be a part of the group and has something valuable to contribute for the good of all. Operating with that assumption does influence your environment in a positive manner. Furthermore, make sure that each member knows that his or her contributions are important, and as a head of the community, make sure that you act on it. In a school setting, we are often consumed with external demands and at times, we neglect our promises to the children. That’s a formula we must not allow in our children’s learning process. Following through with promises gives children a sense of security and importance. This has been my experience.

I also keep going back to the importance of this community/family concept. I found that when people feel that they are valued members of the group, they pull together as a team. So I must reiterate the importance of including all members in any planning process, and we must not dismiss anybody’s opinion because that can devalue a person, and it will disrupt or even destroy the community’s goals. Embracing the fact that a number of members will disagree in any planning process, we must be mindful that it is of utmost importance that we make the time to meet privately with the individual person or the group, and at least listen to them, but also take time to explain your reasoning. I’m afraid that this valuable process is beginning to disappear in our interactions with one other. Yes, we are busy with other obligations; however, making the time to sit down with the disagreeing party and explain our position and then hearing a person out is enough to show that person that you care and respect his or her opinion. Then, that in itself may be enough to influence a person to join your journey, to join this path that you want to take.

So yes, I’m talking about my experiences from my tiny island in the South Pacific and from the school where I was a principal. The question is, can some of these ideas be transferred to the mainstream organizations outside of my little world, for example, a public school system? I truly hope so. I suggest that one can start small using a classroom setting; they are small enough. Start with the teacher. The teacher can adopt the concept of a family, so when students enter the classroom at the beginning of the school year, that teacher can operate on the assumption that each student entering her or his classroom wants to be there, and will be treated as a family member. I believe that having this attitude will motivate that teacher to get to know every single one of the students. Knowing that teachers are extra super beings, they will find a way to help each and everyone succeed.

We also can consider practicing this concept in grade-level teams. A lot of schools in our country have some form of academic teams. Utilize that same concept in your team to move your agenda forward. In this venue, teachers and counselors can be in the driver’s seat, thus empowering them to move beyond just teaching the curriculum. The teaming approach can be very powerful. In the process, we all must be mindful that when the kids come to school, some may be scared, especially now, where we have students from various parts of the world attending schools in this country. So the first few weeks of school, all members of that school system, from secretaries, cafeteria [workers], teachers, support staff members, and so on, must make every effort to embrace and get to know each child. We must make that assumption I mentioned before that every single one of these kids, regardless of color, regardless of background, is coming into this family setting because that child wants to be there. To some, if not most of them, that school is going to be his or her haven.

I believe starting small may work well, particularly in larger school settings. So starting with one classroom or more with a team approach may eventually be a vehicle for expanding the concept throughout the whole campus. Furthermore, one might consider using upperclassmen to sponsor lower grades, for example, seniors sponsoring freshmen. I guess we can follow the big sister, big brother type approach within the school system. Open as many doors as you can for that partnership to allow the older kids to mentor the younger students. I love this concept because it creates the sense of a family. Since children love grandmas and grandpas, we may consider including a grandma and a grandpa from our local community for each group.

Of course, [you] definitely have to train the older kids, and there’s got to be a doable plan to guide the students. We also must explain to the little ones the purpose of this approach. And definitely, we have to make sure that the kids agree to it. Going through the training, the kids can do it. We just have to make time to make it work. We also must carve out time for team building, and allow team leaders and members the time to dialogue and share ideas for improvement purposes. I believe it is important to also allow students to showcase their team or grade-level activities to encourage the concept throughout the whole school. Honoring the kids and allowing them leadership responsibilities will strengthen their character and allow for more interaction among their peers. In so doing, it may provide the school the opportunity to allow kids to be accepting of one another, and of our agenda.

I know that I repeated myself many times in this interview, but what I shared is what I feel, what I know, and what I’ve experienced.

Ron Lovato

Governor, Tribal Member, Ohkay Owingeh Pueblo

I don’t know if this is relevant to anybody else, but in thinking about how I’ve gotten to this point in life, in my career, it’s almost like everything in my life led up to this, if that makes any sense. Let me try to explain what I mean.

Starting off, probably as a young boy with my father, not realizing—you know, education is such a weird thing as I think about it. You’re learning even when you don’t think you’re learning, right? So, my exposure, I think, and my time with him had more influence on me than I realized at the time. He passed away when I was about 21 years old. But it wasn’t until many years later that I realized that the exposure to him had an impact on me. Then factor in all my other experiences and people I met doing what I did, going to school, finishing school, getting the job there at the Indian school—just being exposed to all the folks I met during these times. Now, consider that, at the time, I didn’t realize this, but it was a perfect segue into this tribal world or Tribal leadership world because from grade school, all the way to my first real job at the [Santa Fe Indian] School, I was able to connect and interact and learn from all of the Pueblo people who crossed or entered my life. Again, not because anybody developed a curriculum for Ron Lovato or any of that—just kind of the way things worked out—and maybe I guess, if I had anything at all to do with it, it was just opening my eyes and ears, and watching, observing, and learning. Again, keep in mind, Lovato isn’t smart enough to know he was learning at the time. He was.

Then, just taking those time frames, Betty, there’s a multitude of specific incidental things that happened to me through my life journey. I mean, my trip out there to the University of Illinois [for my master’s degree in education]. That whole effort that happened, influenced me, and all of my co-workers influenced me. Then, when Ohkay Owingeh [formerly called San Juan Pueblo] called on me to become a Tribal official, I guess by then, I had evolved into what I call mid-level management at the School. I believe I was running the middle school program at that time, so I had all the seventh and eighth graders, and I got called here to the Pueblo. Our process is one of appointment. We do not have elections in the sense of a popular vote, so I was literally called. Probably that’s when the start of the realization happened. I was probably early 30s, mid 30s maybe. I realized that I had a wealth of knowledge that I perhaps took for granted, because I didn’t realize that other people didn’t know these things or that they found situations requiring discernment, and then action, difficult. I guess that was the realization that I had actually learned something, and didn’t struggle with decision-making. I knew things that other people didn’t necessarily know, for example, even other Native people. I could tell you what the languages of all the 19 Pueblos are. You know what I mean? I’ve been to places that many of them haven’t been. I was able to quickly discern what I thought the best course of action might be. A realization happened to me. I was the tribal sheriff here in the Pueblo at the time, and that’s when I really got involved here with the Pueblo.

Then, as you well know, I’ve always had this, I don’t know, passion for business. Because I was here at the Pueblo, I got engaged with the Corporation and began to get involved and help them. I ended up leaving the School to come run the for-profit company that the Pueblo owns, called Tsay Corporation, which is a real interesting evolution or merging of a government-run economic development office and a traditional for-profit entity. The Corporation is basically tribally owned, so the shareholders are all of the Ohkay Owingeh tribal members. But because it’s not practical to have all tribal members take shareholder action, the Tribal government through the Tribal Council exercises all action on behalf of the shareholders. It really is a merging of a socialistic tribal approach with a capitalist economic system. The company is organized under Section 17 of the Federal law. We operate Tsay as a for-profit entity with all the challenges that you find on the outside world so to speak, except that shareholders basically, are the members of the tribe. I’ve been doing that now for 15 years as the CEO of that Corporation except for 2011 and 2012 when I was made Governor. Now, again in this year and next, I will be a Governor again.

But just summing it all up, starting from a child with my father, then all the gentlemen and women, all the people who I had the opportunity to learn from at the Indian school, from Hal, to Joe, to Jessie, to Eloy—I mean it goes on and, on and, on. And I learned something a little different from each of them. The things I got to do at the School, running the amphitheater, doing the summer leadership programs, it was, I don’t know, fate, I guess. I don’t know how, why, but I think of the movie . . . I love this show, by the way, “Forrest Gump.” I’m sure you’ve seen it. With the feather you know, just floating in the wind. Well, gosh, I’m Forrest Gump, Betty! It worked out! I can tell you that when it comes to leadership, wow! It’s such a necessary and I don’t know, some might say, a fleeting and or lacking thing in our world today.

You know, my HR lady over at the corporation, I drive her crazy. But some of my best hires in terms of management positions [happened because] I basically threw out the book and did a very unorthodox thing. You know, we were having a lot of difficulty identifying leadership positions, and I threw away her long-winded ads, and I summed it up into three qualities I was seeking. We basically ran an ad like this: “Seeking someone with intelligence, integrity, and motivation; experience not necessary.” My thought was, that if they’re intelligent, they’re gonna learn and they’re gonna learn quick, so “intelligence” I should say, in my definition, is the ability to learn. If they’re motivated, that’s gonna help the learning, and that’s gonna help them work hard for you. Then, of course, integrity. They gotta be honest and have that, but if you find an individual with those three things, you can do phenomenal things, and I still am a firm believer in that. I’ve seen even this with my own children, for example. We put too much emphasis on past experience or process. In today’s world, process is familiarity with software programs. What we really need are honest, hard-working learners. People have lost the attribute of hard work. It’s missing. My oldest son got his degree in accounting, and he seems to think that, now It’s done, now it’s all over. I made it, I’m there, it’s all gonna just work out for me, and I keep explaining to him, It takes effort, it takes time, and it takes a lot of work, son. They aren’t just gonna come to you now because you have a degree. That’s gonna help you, it’s gonna certainly help, but it’s not a guarantee of success, if you will.

One of the challenges, when it comes to the Pueblos, Betty, is that at least in my neck of the woods, in Pueblo country, our structures are very socialistic, meaning that it’s all about community. It’s all about the group. So when capitalistic Ron got here, right?—and tried to take this corporation, I had to learn that the ownership of it is very unique. It’s almost like running an economic development department, right?—that a city, or a town, or a local government, or even a state would have, except that you’re not funded. You have to go earn your own money to survive. In order to accomplish economic development, you literally have to run a business and be profitable, in order to be successful at your given effort, because there’s, nobody funding us.

So, in many ways, it helped me to bridge that gap out of necessity.

I guess if I had to sum it all up for you, I guess I’ve always been a student my whole life—always been learning, and maybe the only thing I’ve accomplished, or the reason I’m able to accomplish and grow as a leader is that, I’ve always learned. I’ve never stopped learning. I’ve always observed, watched, adjusted, tried to learn everything. You learn new things, and it never stops. I mean there’s a whole cultural side to our community that I maybe wasn’t very versed in, and so it required me to learn. Learn not just the culture, but learn that I don’t know it all. I may have been versed in books and reading, and yeah, I went to college, but my counterpart here that’s serving in office with me, he’s been spending his life becoming an expert in our culture. For this particular instance or task at hand, I have to give deference to that expert, and it’s this guy who has the knowledge not I, and in the process, I learned humility. You learn that everybody’s got valuable contributions and it’s not just those of us that think we’re smart—you know what I mean?

There’s a different set of criteria for this expertise, and I’m referring to all my counterparts, friends, and classmates who stayed home and learned our culture. But the person that comes to mind was my friend who recently passed. He didn’t get any grade or certificate of graduation for that—his life took him on that path. So, there you’ve got him and Ron right here . . . I’m very grateful that I was able to serve with him, and this was in 2011 and 2012. He had a wealth of knowledge relative to our culture here, and our language and what the dances meant, and the history behind all of it, and Why this? and Why that? So, while together, I had the knowledge and the experience relative to the outside world, so we were a dynamic duo, if I can borrow that phrase. But it worked, because neither one of us tried to be boss all the time. Leadership sometimes means knowing when to step back and let a smarter person take the helm. It’s not about ego I guess. It’s not about that. It’s about being committed to the cause and being willing to know when to step away and let the best person carry the load when necessary.

I had to learn patience, because in comparison to the corporation where the hierarchy is pretty well-defined and the boss is the boss, in the Pueblo, it’s more consensus-building because there are so many variables, and given the circumstances and the situation, there’s a lot of equals. Okay, the org chart isn’t clean on the Pueblo side. I had to learn that. The result is, you get better at consensus-building versus dictating. It’s not as efficient as the other way. I’ll give you that, but then you know, maybe, I don’t know, maybe our society puts too much emphasis on efficiency and it’s okay if things take time. It’s okay if we gotta talk, and talk, and talk, and we still don’t get anywhere, and then eventually, when the consensus is reached, it’s all the more effective. The due diligence has been better because of all the vetting and all the process. It’s almost a check and balance system on steroids, you know? It’s like wow! It’s not just one check-on-one check, it’s multiple layers of checks, and you have to learn consensus-building to get there. You know, it’s been an interesting journey I’ll say that. It really has!

Rijasoa Andriamanana, PhD

Assistant Professor, Gate University, Ambohidratrimo, Madagascar

My society in Madagascar is built on collectivism. That is, people do things together, decisions are made collaboratively. People still depend on their neighbors to watch their children, run errands, and even discipline children. There’s an African saying that we need a whole village to raise children. Raising children includes disciplining them. Here, for example, in this country, in the United States, you can’t discipline other people’s kids. In my culture, I think, leaders, especially the traditional ones, still honor that collectivism. [The type of] leadership that I would like to see is for the society to take care of an issue collectively, like child-rearing.

I know there should be different levels of child-rearing, let’s say at the school level. And if something is wrong with a child at school, let’s say a misbehavior, it should be the principal or the teachers who discipline that child, but not the parents. Right? Why? Parents also have the right and responsibility, because they, in fact, know more about that child. For that reason, I would prefer communal leadership, with joint responsibilities among those who are in charge of the children. Would it be possible to come up with a compromise instead of a school unilateral decision, often punitive, from which the child can change a behavior and grow?

Let’s talk about another example related to schooling. When things don’t go well, it should not just be the teachers’ or just the parents’ responsibility, but it should be a joint responsibility, because if we are not on the same page, the children will be the victims. Right? How can the two work together without competing [against] each other? What happens is, “Oh, yeah. I love my children and when I am in public, I am on the side of my children.” That is what I heard from parents here in the United States. Like, “I am on the side of my children. I don’t think my children did X, Y, and Z” and put the blame on the teachers. Or the other side, teachers may say something like, “I think those parents are careless and they don’t care about their children because they work three jobs. They don’t even look at their children’s homework.” Right? Again, there needs to be understanding there.

We have a different way of loving our kids. In my culture, we don’t say, I love you. I’ve never heard of my parents saying, “I love you” to me. I have to say I love you to my kids when I am on the phone with them, when they are away, because I’ve been in America for years, and it makes them feel good that I tell them that. But, to my people, it is not a big deal to say those words. Some parents really do their best to provide for their kids. That is a way of loving kids in my culture. If, for example, I work three jobs, it’s not for me. Maybe for me, it’s only one job, and that would be enough. To provide for the whole family, maybe I need three jobs. That’s the way I love my kids. Now teachers and school leaders may blame me for not being able to see if my kids did homework or not. How is our leadership then collective, if we are not on the same page?

The traditional leadership model, before formal schooling by Westerners came to Madagascar, was parents and teachers jointly deciding on consequences or rewards for children’s behaviors. The children were all sent to one location and learned things by doing, according to their gender. It was not schooling like learning how to write and count. That’s not how schooling worked traditionally in Madagascar. Traditionally, girls learned how to make baskets and mats for the household, and boys learned how to work on wood. When they went to that place, one person in the neighborhood was in charge, and they reported to the parents like, “So and so did this.” They talked about the children’s behaviors and addressed the issues collaboratively. They were on the same page. In that kind of leadership then, teachers and parents have the same goal. Nowadays, it is a big issue when school teaches one thing and the society teaches another thing about the family or the community. To that extent then, the two contradict each other. And if leadership entities contradict each other, what kind of society are we creating?

Do we want just people with a lot of degrees but who cannot function in real life? I read the other day that the students who sit upfront are those who always answer the questions in class, but those who are at the back of the classroom are the ones who solve real problems in life. How can we prepare our children to face real life? Again, it’s not to prepare for the present. It’s to prepare for the future, and the children are the future. If the leadership people at school and in the community are not on the same page, how can they prepare children to function as real adults or real citizens for real life?

Unfortunately, school nowadays is not real. It’s a construction, it’s a fake world where people have to go and pass a certain amount of tests and quizzes, respond to certain expectations, receive a paper called a “degree,” and then magically are expected to be functional in the society. All of that is an illusion. That is utopia. Because that was not how our ancestors centuries ago prepared children for the future. Society has existed for years, whereas school is something new, that was created later. What did the people who came before us do to survive and pass the civilization to the next generation? They didn’t have any school. We need to look back and think and question what we do now because our children depend on leadership and they look at that model for how to function.

I don’t mean what I said represents the whole country of Madagascar. Madagascar, a former French colony, was colonized by France for 64 years and has been independent for 59 years now. Yet, those 64 years really damaged the people and affected how we see the world. People say like, “Well, the French are gone.” Yes, the French are gone, but what they left is still pervasive. I’ve never seen any French colonists in Madagascar. I didn’t experience colonization per se, but in the classroom how I learned and how I taught, was the colonial way of doing things. The Eurocentric way of thinking, saying, and doing things in everyday life is perceived and reinforced as the norm. The indigenous knowledge and thinking are labeled outdated and ignored. The people in the society didn’t invent that view, but it was those who are on top. How can leadership then fix that? Only the leadership can change that because they are the ones who craft policies, make decisions, and have the power to change things.

I need to say something about bottom-up approach leadership where decisions come from the masses, with the help of those at the top. Those who are at the bottom can’t necessarily reach the top, but the ones at the top can go down and reach the masses there. That’s how to connect the two. If we talk about schooling, how can we make schooling more collaborative? That depends on all stakeholders, right? Not only the teachers and those who have the power in the institution, but especially those who are in the community, like the parents and their children. The parents have the power in the society, in the community, which is in their individual households. Their power can be transferred to the school institution for a shared cause, which is the education of the children.

How can we build the kind of leadership that I would like to see so that we are on the same page? Either at school or at home or in any form of society, we shouldn’t contradict each other. [It is] only in schools that individual success is promoted, because in the society, in the real life, one person cannot do things by himself or herself. In school, you can be the best at one thing and teachers and principals really praise you, “Oh, so and so is the number one who has done this. X is the only one who has done that. Y is the first or the best in this.” Just one individual accomplishment. But in real life, if we put one person in a location in isolation, I don’t think this person is going to sustain. Maybe 1 or 2 days. After 3 days, that person needs another person to do something or share something with. Maybe I exaggerated. Maybe someone can live in isolation for days, but not months. My point is, eventually we can’t function just by ourselves. Why would school leadership want to be the sole institution or the sole authority to be in charge of the children? Or the opposite, why would we think that the parents only would be in charge of that? Why can’t the two come together and collaboratively lead? That’s the kind of leadership that I would like to see.

Of course, the only Western society I know is the United States. Here, it is assumed that people have good intentions. People say all the time that, “No, I didn’t intend this,” or “I don’t mean this.” I don’t buy into those comments. To me, intentions don’t matter, good or bad. It is the impact—it is how the person received it or perceived it, I think it’s just an excuse. Before you say something, you need to think. I know there’s a lot of debate around what comes first, talking or thinking. In my opinion, you need to think before talking, and be sensitive of people and their culture. The world is now intertwined and very diverse, so you don’t know what people believe, who the people are, where they come from, what they endure, and how they feel. Those are things that you can’t see.

A good leader should care about the impact of what they do and say. That is, a good leader should think about how this action or these words or these policies impact people. There’s no guessing here. It’s building relationships. It’s making the connection. It’s not a question of liking or disliking. No, connect. Because somehow, we have something in common, somewhere. Start with that. Even if you have a lot of things that you don’t share with others, I bet there’s something you share with that person, regardless. How can you make that connection so that you understand the background of the person before you say something or do something, so you can avoid the saying that, “I don’t intend that” or, “My intention is good”? Yeah, your intention might be good, indeed. But good—that is subjective. Intention—you can’t really measure that. Good intentions can’t be proven. A good or bad impact can be seen.

The question of truth here is very important because my truth is not necessarily your truth. We have different experiences in things. For example, where I am from, words are powerful. Once you’ve said a harsh word you can’t unsay it. It attaches to our heart. It doesn’t go to our mind, but it goes to our heart and it hurts. It’s like a sword that stabs people in my culture. We prefer to be whipped than to be told harsh words. When you say that you didn’t intend to hurt or, “Oh, my intention is to do this,” how would you know as a leader that you did not hurt people, or you had good intentions? You are not a leader if you don’t know how your people feel, or how your actions impact them. Because good leaders, strong leaders, are the ones who listen to their people and act accordingly.

Betty Merchant, PhD

Professor, Department of Educational Leadership and Policy Studies, University of Texas at San Antonio

Readers should resist the temptation to focus on traditional, western models of leadership as exemplars, and refrain as much as possible, from relying on their taken-for-granted assumptions about education, schooling, community involvement, and decision-making. Instead, readers are encouraged to be open to the ways in which their own leadership knowledge and practice could be transformed by these indigenous leaders.

Embedded in the quote from Dr. Rijasoa Andriamanana is an important assumption that undergirds the collective case and suggests a useful perspective for initial discussion, “The question of truth here is very important because my truth is not necessarily your truth. We have different experiences in things.”

Although all of the authors speak about the importance of listening, a quote from Dr. Felisa Gulibert’s interview will be helpful in guiding class discussions:

You have to listen to everybody. You have to refrain from speaking your mind, allow everyone to speak—as a leader that was his [my father’s] style. Allow everyone to speak first, then you take all that in, and of course, you have to weigh it all, and you have to make sure that everyone is heard, and everyone is satisfied.

Suggested activities:

*, **, *** Special thanks to Mr. Joseph Abeyta, for inspiring these suggestions.