Leadership Lessons from a Prison Cell, Part I

Photo by Papaioannou Kostas on Unsplash

You Aren’t In Charge of Anyone

I spent two years in a prison transitional facility, which are essentially metal buildings with four pods each, 104 people in each pod, four showers, four toilets, all in full view of the female officers in a central picket.  

The units are not air conditioned, so the summer heat turns the metal huts into ovens, One fan. Men laid shirtless on the concrete floor before the metal siding had a chance to soak in the afternoon heat. Even today, I respond to the first cold snap as someone who has been starved responds to food. I soak it in.

Fights broke out. Guards rolled in to extract the men. Otherwise, we passed the time playing chess. I had to put a towel down on the table because sweat from my arm kept dripping on my pieces.

There were long moments of silence, as though a predator had entered a forest landscape. The birds and squirrels went silent. People warned of something imminent. The conditions both created and exposed the division and hatred. Soon, the violence boiled over. People warned that we be prepared to “defend our own race.”

That evening, dozens of men stood together on opposite sides of a fence separating rec yards. As I walked the track, I caught periodic bits from their conversation. They seemed to be negotiating. I passed by again, and they were speaking about the values of brotherhood they all share. I passed again, and they were giving voice to the conflict. On my final pass, they were huddled in appreciation.

The next day, the squirrels and birds started chirping again. The men had resolved the conflict on their own. No prison guard could have created that outcome. They had to come together on the common ground of respect to listen to each other. No one was in charge of anyone else, but they chose to come together.

I often wondered how it was possible that gang leaders could bring rivals together to work through common problems. It’s no wonder that former gang leaders are on the front lines of preventing gun violence in this Country. They are called “credible messengers.” Had their life circumstances been different, we’d call them CEO’s.

Years later, I noticed this quality of leadership again. A community was overwhelmed by the number of people with mental illness flowing into the justice system. No one – not the mental health providers, the police, the prosecutors, judges, or probation officers – had a clear idea about who was supposed to do what. Instead, people with mental illness fell into crisis, the police were called, and off to county jail they went. Jails only exacerbate mental health crises, so they often stayed in jail for months or even years as the system tried to figure out how to help them regain competency to stand trial.

Finally, a respected justice of the peace called everyone together to work through the problem. She was not in charge of anyone, as judges have no more authority to run a mental health program as city police have to run a county jail. Yet, people showed up. They figured out who would take each part of the problem from transportation to service to delivery of medications into jail.

I asked her how it was that she could send an email and have dozens of people show up and roll up their sleeves. Her answer was simple: she had spent years showing up for other people. She volunteered. She served on boards of nonprofits. She demonstrated that she would work long hours when a crisis arose. People learned that they could trust her to do what she said she would do.

The first rule of leadership is that you aren’t in charge. Even when your position gives you power and authority, your capacity to solve big problems comes from the credibility you build by showing up for others and doing what you say you will do.

If you are interested in building a leadership culture based on trust and credibility rather than power and control, reach out to D-Degree: doug@d-degree.com