indness is often a forgotten leadership quality in business and in life. It has become commonplace for people to be scammed, property to be stolen and lies to be told. Work favors efficiency and results over problems and empathy. It is important to find solutions, to make money, to save money, to find success. It is also important to protect oneself – to shore up against the bad in the world. But in so doing, we can lose the best part of ourselves, the part that sees others, acknowledges their struggles and recognizes the common traits we share as human beings.

I worked at a domestic violence shelter for nine years. There is a hardness that comes with this work. It’s not just the aspects of an extremely difficult job; the hardness comes from learning to stay emotionally safe. You put up walls or you don’t last. A lot don’t last. Surprisingly, many who do stay are not leaders. Making decisions about a person’s safety is not easy, and some people are more comfortable letting others make those decisions. As my time progressed in the shelter, I recognized that the staff observed closely how I handled myself during difficult times. Cynicism was easy, and compassion was quickly forgotten with someone in crisis screaming in your face. I quickly realized the need to demonstrate to others that my job was to be kind and to believe in the person I was helping.

I thought often of my first “real” job after college. I worked at the Walt Disney Company for a boss who was tough in a place where you had to be happy all the time, even when you weren’t. As I progressed in my employment and was promoted, I looked to that supervisor for guidance. I noticed right away that she thanked her staff every day. As I learned my role and had the opportunity to know her better, I recognized that she gave instructions and checked in but trusted me to do my work. I was good at my job and she let me do it. Throughout my career, I have continued to look to her example and emulate the skills she displayed:

• Present a positive attitude, even when things are difficult
• Give clear instruction
• Check in with your team but let them do their work
• Say thank you

While I endeavored to deploy these skills, after nine years at the shelter I was burnt out. I didn’t want to go to work, and I found it harder and harder to remember kindness. I felt like I didn’t want to help people anymore, so I knew it was time to leave.

I came across a position at an art program that provides services to adults and youth with intellectual and development disabilities. My new job was so easy, so free. There was no need for the hardness I had built up for protection, and I could be my authentic self for the first time in nearly a decade. Kindness was a central tenet to the daily aspects of service. I could be a leader and role model both to staff and to the people we served. My new supervisor had several familiar skills with one important addition: asking what would make the job easier for staff.

Openness brought me discomfort after so many years, but I recognized that our staff needed guidance in changing times. They needed to learn how to work with people with challenging personalities or behaviors. I learned my job was to be kind and to teach others to believe in the people they were helping.

There’s a time when a leader has done all they can and needs to move on. Not because of any problems, but because they have reached their goals. I’m now the executive director of the Anchorage Waldorf School. It’s a strange place for someone who started her career path working for a commercial mega giant and later worked somewhere that brought trauma with it every day. But the school’s social mission drew me with such intensity that I knew I wanted to be a part of it: “We promote the right of everyone to freely develop their capacities to become the best human being possible.”

From faculty and board to parents and students, the ideals of kindness are lived. There’s a hard line to do what is right, but it’s not hardness. It is exemplifying how things should be and truly believing they can be. When I began, I was immediately welcomed and given trust I had not yet earned. I didn’t understand why but recognized I had become a part of something different.

Waldorf holds their community close. There are 100-year-old traditions and customs that are beautiful and that promote peace. There is also an avoidance of the hard things. Challenging conversations might be sidestepped or ignored until the problem gets too big and forces a response. I have encouraged people to stop making the same mistakes from the past. “Make new mistakes,” I say. Sometimes the mistakes are painful, but when they are made with the desire to do better, I believe that intent is recognized. Openness is the norm rather than the exception, and that is conveyed by a teaching model that builds each child with the nurturing ability to do more for the world around them.

When I was new, one of the faculty told me I wasn’t what she expected. “You’re not like other executive directors,” she said. I asked her what she meant, and she told me I was more real. I like to think she meant I was relatable. After five years in an art studio, I was accustomed to spontaneity and had left cynicism behind, and this teacher whom I barely knew recognized and welcomed this quality.

Last week, dealing with the economic impacts of COVID-19, I called one of our hourly staff to talk about a potential layoff. I asked her if she wanted me to formally lay her off while she wasn’t working so she could collect unemployment. Her empathetic answer was moving.

“Are people treating you kindly?” she asked. I was laying her off, and she wanted to make sure I was alright. This trait is very much foundational to the Waldorf philosophy and is demonstrated frequently, even daily, when you live joyfully and with intent. I am learning that my job is to accept kindness and to allow others to believe in me.

As a leader, I look to what I have learned from the leaders around me. The best ones use the same techniques. Be clear. Check in. Say thank you. When these are done with kindness, they connect us to one another and help us to become the best of ourselves. The impact of that first supervisor has stayed with me throughout my career, and I see the same traits again and again in effective leaders.

I am privileged to work with young people now, and I am mindful of the added responsibility that comes with how children perceive leaders. To the kindergarteners, I’m just the person in the office next to their classroom. I ask them how their day is going. I remind them of their teacher’s expectations. I thank them for visiting. We make eye contact and shake hands. Even with our youngest, I hope I am laying a foundation by exemplifying these leadership qualities. With the middle schoolers, I model respect, ask them about their day and thank them when they are positive role models to the younger students. I am invested in the adults they will become and hope to leave them with the same skills they can use to become leaders themselves.