Category: LDR 101

During my time at Agnes Scott, I have managed to develop some useful skills as a leader. Prior to my coming to this school, “being the leader” in group assignments was something more akin to wrangling unruly classmates and making sure that the entire group didn’t fall apart. While I was more than simply aware of leadership in the broader scale, the notion of this kind of dynamic wasn’t something which was at all appealing to me. At the very least, that was before I learned about the different kinds of leadership.

According to Gilligan: Making Connections, there are two distinct forms of leadership. The first is interdependent, where an individual works to come up with solutions and goals with a handful (or even larger scale) of people through listening to and adhering to feedback. It functions under the mentality that everyone is connected, and that it is important to work as a team with one’s peers in order to make the most satisfactory impact and hear things from the greatest number of perspectives. The second way of thinking is autonomous, which entails a leader [allegedly] working for people of their own volition, and taking little to no feedback from other people. Interestingly, autonomous leadership is both more desired and prevalent in men, whereas interdependency is a female-dominant form of leadership; however, that is not to say that either is more important than the other. They are merely two different ways to approach the construct of leadership and how one leads.

For me, I do follow this model. I definitely consider myself to be an interdependent leader, following my own voice and those of others in order to make it to a shared goal. I enjoy having the help of my peers, listening to feedback, and overall doing my best when it comes to assignments. I aspire to be a leader out in the real world as well, not just on the college campus, and this is certainly good practice.

A prime example of my leadership was in my author presentations assignment. I sent out the email coordinating my group, and made sure that we were all able to meet up at an agreed-upon time. We divided the work up in accordance to our areas of knowledge and the research we pulled up, shared a Google Slides document to place our results in, and made sure to get the work in on time. The presentation itself was divvied up based on who chose each assignment. This shows my leadership as I took initiative yet was still more than willing to hear my group’s feedback on the project, and how they felt it should best be handled.

Similarly, my film project also helped me to develop my leadership. Details were discussed, a theme was settled upon, and work was given out based on skills. Since I consider myself to be a writer, I was in charge of writing the script. My teammates helped with editing. One of them did the storyboard, and editing the film. I and my third teammate were actors in it, and we all pitched in to create the PowerPoint.

During my group projects, I learned a significant amount about time management. Between cramming in last-minute changes and planning things long in advance, I would gladly stick with the latter. I gained some speaking skills through presentations (nervous as I may have been with those), and overall became more confident with time and practice. My writing capabilities grew with assistance from peer editing and working on PowerPoint slides.

I feel that my LDR class, especially my group work, has showed me that working with peers can be fun, and nowhere near as arduous as it once was back in high school. I look forward to seeing how my interdependent leadership grows in the coming years.

Autonomous Rebels Of The Patriarchy: The Troubled Fates Of Lyra and Ms. Coulter

Philip Pullman’s series His Dark Materials is renowned and scorned alike for its criticisms of potentially toxic societal conventions, including things such as social class struggles, the manipulation of religion, and other varied means of discrimination. Aside from the apparent racial clashes, another commonly portrayed method of discrimination in the books is sexism, and the path to overcoming it. Pullman’s novels portray a chiefly patriarchal society, but it is important to note that both the protagonist and antagonist are indeed female, and what effect this has on the book – especially considering the fact they are both portrayed as autonomous leaders.

With regards to the traditional western society, autonomous leaders are most valued, because they stereotypically represent a force of undeniable and often unquestioned power. The autonomous leadership style is, as defined by Gilligan: Competencies and Visions, one in which “the leader characteristically is one who acts or is delegated to act for others” (191). Its counterpart is interdependency, which is where the individual takes feedback from a group into account when coming to a decision. According to this study, autonomous leadership is more common in males while women follow more interdependent styles. Therefore, Pullman’s choice to give his two lead women a more traditionally masculine leadership method is significant.

Ms. Coulter is a prime example of strong, autonomous female leadership; she is a sweet, dainty woman on the outside, which she uses to her advantage. She manages to manipulate the magisterium’s fear of Dust under a facade of daintiness and elegance which convinces them to trust her – and reeks of, as Lyra notes, “the smell of glamour” when it comes to her confidence and lavish lifestyle (210). Ms. Coulter truly exemplifies the female stereotype, although keeps her wits about her so that she can, siren-like, get precisely what she’s after. Indeed, she manages to coax children into her open arms despite her foul intentions, as, stated by guest at a (in the film, nonexistent) party, “what child could resist her?” (263). Her demeanor creates a false sense of security which allows those around her to let their guard down and do a significant amount of damage and gain autonomy while living up to societal expectations of [weaponized] femininity. She bends societal norms to her will to carve a name for herself and assert her dominance.

In the movie rendition, however, Ms. Coulter’s leadership is much less apparent. She is hardly given screen time devoid of a crowd of surrounding male figures, and seems to be much more a part of the system than the one spearheading her own mission. Ms. Coulter is still shown in the film to be knowledgeable and witty, flaunting her facts about the north and King Ragnar’s mentality before Lyra as a means of enticing her; nevertheless, she is portrayed much more provocatively. During her entrance to the College, Ms. Coulter wears much more suggestive attire than depicted in the book and appears to flirt her way into the scholars’ arms as a means of coaxing them into relinquishing Lyra to her. To put it more simply, the movie depiction of Ms. Coulter represents the feminine stereotype of sexual appeal versus feigned innocence and charisma, which in many regards is much more sexist than the former. This portrayal weakens the movie’s validity on the subject of leadership with the implication that Ms. Coulter is only able to win over Jordan College by taking advantage of men’s lust, and while perhaps effective is not a positive message to female viewers.

Lyra, conversely, rebels against the system. She has been noted early on into the books as refusing to act proper, favoring the company of boys, and wreaking havoc on the Scholars of Jordan, who have “more important things to do than attend to the affections of a half-wild, half civilized girl” (59). Lyra is considered by many as unladylike, and efforts are made by those around her to acknowledge this as some form of flaw on her part – efforts which evidently fail in the end. Lyra utilizes autonomous leadership by using her strength and intellect, and scarcely takes the input of others except her own daemon (which, in the context of the book, is not much different than conversing with herself). She is a formidable opponent for Ms. Coulter and the magisterium, and shows prowess in her abilities to stifle Iofur (named Ragnar in the film) by convincing him that she is Iorek’s daemon. While unapologetically unapproachable by many means, Lyra knows precisely what she needs to do in order to achieve her goals, and goes out to do it – a message which hopefully empowers young women to do the same.

The movie rendition of Lyra is, much like their take on Ms. Coulter, much less impactful; she is given all information required for her to complete her mission by Ms. Coulter, The Master of Jordan, or her Uncle Asriel, and merely needs to string it together (examples of this are but not limited to Ragnar’s desire for a daemon, the information on panserbjorne, and the fixing form of one’s daemon). The inquisitive nature of Lyra as portrayed in the book is almost nonexistent on the big screen, and puts a damper on her autonomy as she more or less follows what she is told without question.

The movie rendition of The Golden Compass is, especially when compared to the book, deeply dissatisfying with its portrayal of leadership. The film took two strong independent women and objectified them, or merely forced them further into the laws of an undeniably patriarchal society. Without explicitly depicted rebellion of the system which was quite apparent in the novel, the movie paints the world as difficult, if not impossible, to overcome gendered stereotypes, with very few ways for a women to lead in that society. The movie does not depict strong female leadership, and sends a message of submission to its female viewers – one which should not be encouraged.

Works Cited

Lyons, Nona P., Jane Forbes Saltonstall, And Trudy J. Hanmer. “Competencies and Visions.”

Gilligan, Carol, et al. Making Connections: the Relational Worlds of Adolescent Girls at Emma Willard School. Harvard University Press, 1990.

Pullman, Philip, and Chin Wong. The Golden Compass. Muses, 2002.

The Scapegoat of Confident Leadership: Hermione Granger & Societal Expectations

The widely-acclaimed book series of Harry Potter has depicted a long-standing fantasy classic for children, teenagers and adults alike. The books are referenced religiously, and individuals often pride in their Hogwarts houses and continue to buy into the enticing Wizarding World that J.K Rowling has created. Despite its charms, however, not everyone considers whether or not the overall themes and characteristics exemplified are all healthy messages to the public. Throughout the series, and quite notably in The Sorcerer’s Stone, Rowling implies that a connected, feedback-centric mode of leadership is ideal, but not to be inherently expected of everyone. This is most notable based on the different reactions to characters who exemplify this leadership; all of the main trio members are originally more separated from society and gradually work to listen to one another. Harry is praised and Ron is congratulated for finding his inner courage. Hermione, on the other hand, is simply regarded with exasperated relief from the audience – relieved that a young woman so autonomous and powerful could possibly return to a more “accepted” position in society.

In my Gender & Leadership class, we discussed the stereotypical roles which women are intended to fulfil as steps for being accepted into mainstream society. One such expectation is for women to choose their side of the argument of goodness versus survival, and that in order for them to be desirable they must decide to look after either themselves or others, not both (Gilligan, Making Connections 8). The argument states that young girls taking charge is viewed negatively, and can follow with the societal expectation for women to be maternal and submissive opposed to dominant and leaders. This trend follows quite smoothly with Hermione’s development within the first book.

Relating to the theories discussed in class, Gilligan states that “[adolescent girls] are sometimes called ‘bossy’” when they state their opinions or shed their prowess in certain subjects, something which does indeed creep up in the acclaimed novels (Making Connections Preface 11). Hermione is portrayed as knowledgeable, intellectual, and  confident at the source, although is characterized by her peers as standoffish, obnoxious, and full of herself in both book and film. After besting Ron with her abilities in charms class, he whispers to Harry that “it’s no wonder no one can stand her… She’s a nightmare, honestly” (314). While the audience presumes that this is more directed towards Hermione’s callous attitude, it can be questioned as to whether there would be as much of an uproar were Hermione a male student who simply knew a thing or two about what they were doing. The presence of this scene in the film allows for one to note its significance to the plot and perpetuate the negative stigma associated with the young witch. The trend only lessens with her character development and progression into the novel.

During the trials preceding the showdown with Lord Voldemort, Harry, Ron and Hermione are required to work together to make their way to the Sorcerer’s Stone. They utilize their abilities wisely, and take on the challenges as a team. In the book, Hermione is vital in uncovering the final task prior to the stone’s recovery, one which “isn’t magic – [but rather]  logic – a puzzle,” and she states that “a lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic” (515). Hermione proves through working through this task that logic and intellect is important, and that she can unlock the riddle in order to help them progress. She is a strong leader, but at the same time part of a team, willing to take advice and criticism. While this is positive character development and appears to depict a healthy message to female viewers, it seems that her newfound role also has her dumbing herself down quite a bit as she bids Harry luck: “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things – friendship and bravery” (518). In other words, it initially appears that Hermione considers herself important, yet in reality she now views herself in a depreciative light by contrast with the other male characters. Neither of these two scenes are present in the movie, where Hermione is further constricted to gender roles and remains behind to take care for her ailing comrade – fulfilling the notion that women are caretakers and therefore subject to goodness over their own mental survival.

There is no questioning the truth in Gilligan’s analysis of gender’s role in leadership: the themes of goodness and survival, often presented as the toxically common trope of sacrificing oneself for the “greater good,” spread like wildfire throughout popular fantasy and science fiction. Hermione seems at first to be a role model for young women with an affliction for fantasy, although perhaps it is wise to determine how healthy Rowling’s portrayal really is, and what message it projects onto society’s more impressionable young members.

Works Cited

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Warner Bros. Pictures, 2001.

Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. New York: Scholastic, 1999. Print.

Weinstein, Ari, et al. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone: J.K. Rowling. Spark Pub., 2002.