Essay

A mandatory parable is in order. Let’s use the one from David Foster Wallace’s commencement speech: “Two little fish are going down their way and all of a sudden a big fish comes by and asks them – “how’s the water boys. The fish go a little further and look at each other and say – what the hell is water?”

All essays, from liberal arts to admissions and scholarships require a clichéd parable to set the ground for sharing a trite moral lesson that no one genuinely wants to heed to, so I had to indulge as well. However, before I continue on with some other clichéd effects, I want to clarify one thing about how I like to use the word leader!

No, that wasn’t merely a sloppy writing fumble. My use of the exclamation mark is not some way of making a dreary word adorable; it’s there for a specific reason, and there won’t be any other way I’d have it. Let’s elucidate its existence in other forms:

Leader:

The colon, with its two tiny speckled dots provides a bias for action that makes it beautiful and enigmatic at the same time. It’s no trivial matter that I find it interesting. It portrays a tedious continuum, just like that of Da Vinci Mona Lisa, where she constantly stares into the abyss of the onlooker, longing for true meaning, searching something better. My actions are unpredictable. My present life is not a precursor to something that follows. The colon is not for me.

Leader,

The reputable comma, with its ephemeral presence, makes things before and after it lucid and formidable. I don’t see myself as a bridge to something more important. There is no pause in my current or future existence. The comma is not who I am.

Leader?
Am I a leader? Do I have a purpose that makes me a leader? Do I need to be of a certain race, ethnicity, religious background or cult to be a leader? I definitely don’t consider myself to have arisen from the ashes of a question list like a Phoenix. The question mark, even with its magnetic curvaceous appearance, does not characterize me.

Leader.
This is definitely the least likely of things that a leader can be. The period, with its mercenary inclinations usurps my prerogative. It saps me out of my energy. I will never be a stopping point.

Leader!

Now we’re talking. I’m infatuated with the exclamation mark; there is something about it. An aura of enigmatic passion surrounds it, its energy matches mine: the kind that keeps me hammering away at my keyboard at five in the morning to carve out a perfect MBA admissions essay. With the aid of the exclamation mark, I want to help others appreciate that it’s tragic to be absorbed in fantasy that you fall out of touch with reality, but it’s equally tragic to be absorbed by reality and forget what it is to dream!

Now that we have established some ground rules, I have to admit, I’m confounded by the question – am I really a leader? Sorry, I meant to say leader!

I’m a purveyor of puns, lover of laughter. I’m a natural lefty, but use my right hand more than my left. I fall prey to the ice-cream truck when I hear them go by like a five year old, but manage to somehow maintain my rationality while trading stocks. I’m a paradox, an enigmatic collection of all things ideal and frivolous. Reading books like a machine is my hobby, losing philosophical arguments my life-style; memorizing the ABC backwards my goal; constantly seeking knowledge my purpose.

I’m a guru of trivial business news, a master BBQ chef, and a weekly open-mic participant playing the same clichéd popular tunes. Useless knowledge is my true love, losing pun competitions my bane, inciting awkward humorous moments my obsession. I’m not a gold medalist, but a B student. Psychology guides my behavior, biology determines my physical characters, and multi-cultureless drives my interests.

I’m an avant-garde ‘analyste financier’ by day, craft beer aficionado by night. My search for ‘myself’ has left me in a state of stateless-ness. I wiggle my way out of the mud every day, just like a worm does searching for a potential mate.  I’m driven by ambition, fueled by multiple espresso shots. I avoid alliterations always, and dodge clichés like the plague!

That’s who I am, and I’m still not sure if that’s why I’m a leader!

The infamous Marconi was once walking down the halls of MIT, where he heard Hertz tinkering with some audio equipment. Over a casual conversation, Hertz mentioned he had this piece of useless junk lying around, and wondered whether Marconi wanted it. Being the average poor student, Marconi took it from Hertz and converted it into the radio, and somehow managed to find value in something that others found ‘useless’.

“That’s amazing, you are a true spreadsheet whiz, why do we need this again?”- said my clever boss walking by my desk one day. “I come, I see, I model. I’m just chasing the useless, hoping to make it useful someday!” was my response. My boss looked at me with ambivalence and walked away. Somehow I’m convinced that in the workplace, whenever there is something new, be it banal or exciting, I need to pursue it.

My dad and I used to play scrabble together when I was a little boy. “That’s A..W..H..T; daddy that’s a double, it’s WHAT! I win”. I would gloat every time I won against my father. Winning against my mom or my brother was no big feat, but winning against my dad was an incredible accomplishment. My twelve-year-old self considered it worthy of a Nobel peace prize. With the excitement and energy of a thousand burning suns, I would look at him searchingly for signs of defeat, and he would calmly say - “I have taught you well”. He had won, even when he had lost.

It wasn’t that he was a sore loser, but the fact that he was happy to lose that ensures me that I’ll never forget that moment. Parents cherish the experience of seeing their children obtain better education than what they obtained. They hope that someday their progenies defeat them at the game of achievements in life. At the workplace, I always hope that I lose to my team members; in their wins, my success originates. I will keep doing this to be a leader!

“Hi, nice to meet you, I live in Toronto. Where are you from?” I find this statement so simple but potent.  I have managed to use it over and over again, as I have spent countless nights as a volunteer at a Toronto youth hostel.

“I’m from Italy” – replied the girl with soft Vietnamese features. Two years ago, this response would have left me in a state of confusion a dog usually finds itself in while chasing its tail; today it leaves me unperturbed. I’ve forgotten my biases and prejudices. I’m an iconoclast usually engaged in heated debates with others about their dogmas. I have opened my eyes and have accepted the reality that no one can be judged by what they look like. I have accepted that I must unlearn.

To be a leader who fosters creativity and innovation, you don’t need a team of consultants, bankers or strategic planners; you don’t need tactical plans that give you a false sense of satisfaction in a ‘saving the world’ fashion. All you really need is to look around, and realize that you’re one of those little fish and ‘this is water’; unappreciated things are all around – you simply need awareness.

You have to ensure that you find and embrace your own definition of leader, be it with an exclamation mark, comma, period or question mark – one that truly represents you.

You have to recognize that everything that you’ve been through has molded you into who you are now, be it an ice-cream truck chasing amateur or a B student stuck in the state of stateless-ness. Your connection with the world is inescapable. You touch other people’s life merely by existing.

You have to have the tenacity to walk up to your own ‘Hertz’ someday, and ask for his useless stuff and become the catalyst to turn it into something useful.

You have to be a parent in your professional life and be happy for your team members surpassing you. The best leaders comprehend that they are known for the work they get done, not the work they do themselves.

You have to constantly unlearn.

I can’t guarantee that the above-mentioned things will ensure creativity and innovation – but like Mark Twain once said – “history doesn’t repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme.”