The New Face of Arts Leadership in the West - westaf - The Western ...

not be available to us. Indeed, there are
social factors that make our lives very different
from the lives of the Baby Boomers.
For them, it was free love. For us, it was AIDS; it
is AIDS. For them, acid parties. For us, the war
on drugs. For them, defense spending. For us,
deficit inheritance. For them, first mortgages.
For us, still paying off student-loan debts. And
now I stand at the cusp of their retirement, as
they move onto the next phase of their lives,
and they are turning back to ask us, “Who
are our emerging leaders?” And we face the
possibility of picking up where they left off.
Brenda Allen: I was born to lead. Just call
me a natural born leader. From elementary
school until today, people have asked me to
lead and, most of the time, I have agreed.
My teachers said I exhibited strong leadership
skills. I was president of the Girl Scouts. I was
president of the junior high student council. I
was chair of my senior social committee in
high school. I was vice president of my senior
class. I am currently chair of my department. I
am constantly courted by people who have
positions they think I can lead. During my
first class when my students ask, as you did
earlier, “What should we call you?,” I say, “She
who must be obeyed.” I also say, “Queen B,
and the B is going to mean different things
throughout the semester.” So, throughout
my life, my sense of leadership, as is the case
with all of us, has been socially constructed.
I was a smart, cute little colored girl that White
folks called bright and people in my community
expected to represent, even before we called
it represent. So, does being a Baby Boomer
affect my sense of leadership? You are damned
right it does. Because I was raised in a social
and political context that encouraged and
invited me in particular ways. I was fortunate
enough to have role models from within my
community and throughout the United States
and the world. So there were people like Mr.
Murphy at the Settlement House—you all know
what a settlement house is?—and Miss Nadine
at the Settlement House. There was Martin
Luther King, Jr. There was John F. Kennedy,
Barbara Jordan, Mother Teresa—on and on.
Yes, I definitely enjoyed the “free love.” I
also enjoyed disco. In fact, when I lived in
D.C. in the 1970s, there was a club that had
lunch time disco so, during lunch, you could
go dance to Johnnie Taylor’s “shake it up,
shake it down; move it in, move it round, disco
lady.” 2 And I was one of those disco ladies,
OK? However, no acid dropping for me and
my friends, no naked dancing—that was a
different group. So, it is important to understand
there are differences within the groups.
Moreover, when the Kent State murders
occurred, I was right up the street at Case
Western University, where I went to undergraduate
school. We held a candlelight march that
I will never ever forget, and there were all
kinds of marches, as is implied in some of our
music. Marvin Gaye said, [Allen sings] “Picket
lines and picket signs/ Don’t punish me with
brutality/ Talk to me, so you can see/ Oh, what’s
going on.” 3 So, I was interested in “what’s
going on.” Edwin Starr said, “War! Good God!
What is it good for? Absolutely nothing! Say
it again.” 4 James Brown, in the meantime,
encouraged and, in fact, commanded me and
my contemporaries to “Say it loud! I’m Black
and I’m proud!” 5 Therefore, with these kinds
of experiences, I grew to think of leadership
as something significant and important and
something I, if not destined, was socialized to do.
In fact, my journey, my story, resembles that of
Wilma Mankiller, former principal chief of the
Cherokee Nation, who said, “My own evolution
into a leadership position was born absolutely
out of my desire to do something about issues
that I thought were important for my people.” 6
In my case, my notion of my people really varies
from time to context. My people are African
Americans, my people are women, my people
are women of color, tenure-track faculty. My
people are . . . you get what I am saying.
2