by Patrick Stone
Cape Cod Community College
Barnstable, Massachussets
It’s arguable that the first time it occurred to me that I might have the capacity to be a leader was during a conversation with three coworkers more than a decade ago. We were debating which Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle each of us was most like. Our hot-headed guy? Raphael. The biggest nerd? Donatello. After much debate, I was browbeaten into accepting that I was Leonardo (the leader) and not, as I had sincerely assumed, Michelangelo (the fun one).
This was devastating. Truthfully, it still kind of is.
To my chagrin, my experiences in leadership have more or less played out exactly as my co-workers predicted. Despite my best efforts … I’m a Leo.
In 2016, just after turning 30, I got my first chance to prove that, landing my first role as a director of marketing for a community college. I had spent the previous five years as a marketing and new media specialist and then assistant director at another institution. Leaning into my Leo-ness, I took the job personally. It wasn’t just that I wanted to be in charge: I needed to prove I was supposed to be.
Naturally, the first thing that happened was that I fell on my face. Not very Leo of me.
I was suddenly thrust into the chair at the head of the table, and the tidal wave of not actually knowing what leadership felt like at scale, in real time, crashed into me all at once. The high expectations, the needs and anxieties of staff members, the scrutiny of senior leaders, and my own desperation to create excellent work became a crushing daily weight.
Amid my professional crises, I had a horrifying realization: The only way to become the expert I thought I already was required more experience.
This sucked. Not quite as much as realizing I’d never be a skateboarding turtle with nunchucks who loves pizza, but still pretty bad.
Of course, I now know there’s no singular moment when you achieve Respected Leader Status. Being a decent leader mostly comes down to (a) being ready, willing and able to say “yes” to just about anything and (b) knowing how to navigate problems, and people, by striving to be the best version of yourself.
Which brings me to our We the People NCMPR national conference in Washington, D.C., now my gold-star example of saying “yes” to anything. Serving as president of NCMPR was, and always will be, one of the most rewarding experiences of my career. It’s also, in keeping with my tendency to realize the obvious a little late, a lot of work. Like second-full-time-job work.
Planning and executing a national conference—from branding and programming to keynote speakers, structure, food, and everything in between—starts the summer before. That doesn’t even include the whirlwind of daily operational responsibilities like meetings, governance and deciphering executive director James Walters’ text messages. (James dabbles in speech-to-text like some artists work in oils or clay.)
It’s a lot. But here’s the thing: At no point did it feel like too much.
When you’re in a leadership role, you put your head down and do the work. You show up, work hard, do the uncomfortable things and try to be the best version of yourself.
My entire year as president felt like that. Even during the more stressful stretches—most notably when I traveled to district conferences, leaving my wife, Crystal, to manage our three small, insane children on her own—it was rewarding to meet those challenges alongside the many people who supported me.
Fast forward to the final day of We the People. As I stepped off the stage and turned the imaginary gavel over to my longtime friend and colleague from District 1, Eve Markman, a different kind of tidal wave hit me. It was unlike what I experienced in my early leadership days: overwhelming gratitude.
At first, it manifested as a thousand-yard stare into the abyss as I returned to my seat. But over the next few hours, I began to unpack it all. The incredible opportunity to serve on the NCMPR board; the lifelong friendships formed with people across the country I might never have met otherwise; the phenomenal staff who not only executed an amazing conference but showed patience and grace with me; the colleagues who generously shared their expertise; the old friends I reconnected with and the many new ones I met along the way.
And so on, and so on.
Our national conference this year is seared in my mind as one of the best experiences of my life. It was a whirlwind in the best possible way. Every moment was packed with something special. Truthfully, it came as close to perfect as a planned event can. When the biggest stressor I faced as conference emcee was, “Oh no, the giant Washington Nationals presidents are taking too long to get dressed,” you know it went well.
The lesson learned? Leaders are only as good as the people and the supports around them … and I have been remarkably blessed to be surrounded by the best damn people.
I’m deeply grateful to everyone who made We the People happen, who traveled to experience it, and who continues to support community college students through the power of marketing and communications.
Whether you’re a rough-and-tumble Raph, a brainy Donny, a fun-loving Mikey (jerks), or you’re saddled with being Leo, I appreciate you all.
Patrick Stone is the immediate past president of NCMPR, the director of strategic communications and marketing for Cape Cod Community College, and would still gladly accept a pair of nunchucks if anyone has a pair to spare.
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