Leaders, Teachers, Bridge Builders
C. Stephen Byrum, PhD
The greatest leaders are teachers. The greatest teachers are
leaders. Most people who have the chance
to comment on difference makers in their lives will tend to recall a teacher
who provided leadership and guidance for their lives, people of significant
impact who transformed potential in ways that changed the horizon of the
possible.
When leaders lead, they almost always are conscious of
teaching. They mentor, and explain the
internal dynamics of decision making. They seem to know exactly when to praise
and when to goad. They seem to know that every individual and situation is
unique and requires a different “touch.”
They take time to build the base of a relationship from which all other work
follows. They know that the role model of their own personal character is as
essential to what is taught as any piece of content, no matter how useful that
content may be.
In the Jain religion of Southeast Asia and India, there is
not much of a traditional emphasis on gods and religious structures. The Jains
believe in the importance of “Tirthamkaras.” These are special individuals who
have shown up from time to time in human history and who have been focal points
of great insight and wisdom. They are wise men or gurus in a way, but do not
retain what in other religions might be a kind of divine status. In fact, they
usually exhibit a great humility and want attention to be given to the truths
they teach instead of to them as “holy” persons.
The term “Tirthamkara”
literally means, “bridge builder.” There is clearly some cultural precedent
being used here, as the ancient Jains would have clearly understood, how
transformational a bridge could be for a community. The whole process of
“connection” is enhanced by bridges, and when a bridge is built, there is great
potential that is unleashed that was not there before. Thus, a “Tirthamkara” is
someone who creates connections, alignments, and synthesis. In the process of
creating connection, they may also create synergy and serendipity, experiences
that raise the bar of insight, opportunity, and innovation to levels that might
not even have been imagined.
I thought that the most important job I ever performed was
that of a teacher. I was trying to lead, for sure, but—even more—I was trying
to create a connection that would inform with essential information, but also
give people a love of learning that would energize their own pursuits. I never
saw education as a simple exchange of knowledge and an accumulation of data that
people could be tested on. I saw education as a means of liberation and as a
power that created opportunity that was not present. I knew that my main task
was to build a relationship, and when that was accomplished I could lead. I saw
myself in the classroom to be as much of a bridge builder as my father had been
in the 1920s when he actually worked in the construction of bridges for the
State of Tennessee. We were both, in our own ways, about creating connections. We
were both “Tirthamkaras.” I always wanted to give people this “2” and that “2,”
but I wanted to create an environment in which they made the connection and got
“4” or whatever else they might get. Their own excitement in discovering would
be a catapult and catalyst to who knows what.
In my work with the axiology of Robert S. Hartman, I have
come to understand that there are three, primary types of bridges that we can
build:
- Systemic bridges – where we are primarily engaged in the conveying of concepts and ideas—strong S/Systemic evaluative judgment sees patterns, integrations, and connecting points.
- Extrinsic bridges – where we actually do concrete work with real tasks and processes—strong E/Extrinsic evaluative judgment sees connections, which enhance tactics with efficiency and effectiveness.
- Intrinsic bridges – where we build relationships, the fundamental underpinning of any activity that is accomplished—strong I/Intrinsic evaluative judgment sees connections between people.
Hartman’s assessment
instrument would always let me know whether that new student showing up in
class was predominantly Systemic, Extrinsic, or Intrinsic, so I immediately had
insights that would help me connect to the student and be a much better
teacher. Students made good grades, passed tests, and didn’t drop out of class.
The college was happy because it was being funded by the State on the basis of
almost sacred FTEs (full time equivalent students). More importantly to me,
many of the students discovered a surprising joy in learning they had not
experienced. Once I “had” them, the assessment also let me know where I could
improve their learning, and thus make any dominant style even stronger and much
more highly complemented. By adding strengths from other styles I could also
look at beginning and ending scores, arrived at through pre and post testing,
and immediately know the impact the class had provided. Get the joy of learning
and discovery right, and the accompanying discoveries being made about the
Self, and FTEs had a way of taking care of themselves. I never found a dumb
student who could not learn. I often found unengaged students that had never
been shown what learning could be. Once they engaged—or, once they were led to
the point of engagement, they could not believe the level of success they could
achieve.
Hartman had a hierarchy in his system in which the
sophistication of the Systemic—the conceptual—was exceeded by the higher
sophistication of the real-life Extrinsic, which was then exceeded by the
highest sophistication of the Intrinsic—the personal and relational. Real life
events have a greater density to agree with this hierarchy, believing that the
personal and relational is the most important and the most complex to
understand and navigate. The proverbial
“path of least resistance” causes undo attention to be paid to the easier
Systemic ideas and Extrinsic tasks, but success in the Intrinsic will always be
the most gratifying and most powerful in terms of enabling excellence and
quality.
However, Hartman was also very clear that competence and
expertise was needed in all three areas in order to have a holistic encounter
with reality. Perhaps, one person could
have strength in all areas. In most
instances, intentionally and consciously teaming people of differing, predominant
styles together would be a more typical approach. The team approach would require that team
members understood differences and had an appreciation for differences.
In other words, bridge builders who can create Systemic
connections are vital, as are bridge builders who can create Extrinsic and
Intrinsic connections. The best bridges would then become like a three-strand
cord that gains exponential strength because of the way the cords are
consciously interwoven. The best teachers and leaders understand these
dynamics, and use tools that make the dynamics clear in much the same way that
a traditional bridge builder uses the tools of manual construction.
My father was a strong, big man. In spite of little or no
formal education, he had become the foreman of a farm implement company where
he led the shop work of over 100 men. I think I liked the fact that he knew how
to build and fix things. I have a suspicion that the proudest work of his life
was as a young man in his twenties building roads and bridges for the State of
Tennessee. My favorite picture of him shows him standing at the controls of a
powerful caterpillar tractor pulling a road grader.
When my younger brother and I were young and our mother had
died, he would get us in the car early on Sunday mornings, put various tools in
the trunk of our car, and head out—not to church—into the hills and backcountry
of East Tennessee. We would “visit” bridges he had built to check on them and
see how they were doing. Each structure had some kind of associated stories,
and he told them as if they had happened yesterday. He was not much of a story teller, except
about his bridges.
If there were any state of disrepair that we could attend to
with our tools, we would stop and work for a while. Mostly, my brother and I
cleared invading brush. He took this work very seriously and wanted us to see
its importance. Most stories included something about a family who lived nearby
whose lives were made better by the bridges. This was his “church” in a way.
I never became a bridge builder exactly like my father, but
when the teacher in my first comparative religion class in college began to
teach us about the Jains of India and we heard the word “Tirthamkaras,” I
believe it made more sense to me that anyone else in the class. I never travel
without noticing and appreciating bridges. My father may have had more
influence on my own Self-understanding than I have typically wanted to admit at
times. He may have seen himself more than anything else as a bridge builder. Maybe
I am more like him in that essential way than I might ever have imagined. My
father and me were “Tirthamkaras” in our own respective ways; what an unsuspecting
and strange bond we share. It is the bond of teachers, people who see the value
of building bridges. In a world becoming increasingly disconnected in many
essential ways, the role spans the ages.
