Are the voices of emerging leaders in the arts too loud or not loud enough? The grumblings of both young arts practitioners and discerning seasoned veterans raise a number of important questions: Are we squelching the voices of emerging professionals in the arts field? And are we causing an exodus of committed young talent to leave the field for work in other domains?

For the first time in history there are four generational cohorts in the workplace.  The residual clash of generational perspectives has surfaced a number of undeniable challenges—and opportunities—for arts professionals and organizations. Unlike other industries, the arts sector seems to be struggling particularly hard with the inevitable generational shift in leadership.

Join the Emerging Leaders Network of Americans for the Arts and the 20UNDER40 anthology for the Emerging Leaders Salon on ARTSblog the week of October 19-23. Nearly 20 diverse arts professionals from across the country will discuss the impending generational shift in arts leadership, the value of emerging leaders to the field, and the necessity of a platform for young arts professionals. We invite you to follow these posts and continue the conversation through your ideas, comments, and personal stories.

• Are you a young arts leader? Does the field value your creativity, innovation, and professional experience?
• Are you a veteran arts practitioner? Does this view of the field as an entity unable to let loose the reigns of leadership resonate with you?
• Is the arts field successful in its attempt to foster young leaders? Is something out of synch with our planning for succession—or is it an unwarranted overdose of arrogance being exercised by those new to the field?
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As I read through the many posts that have already flooded the blog this week, I feel reassured.  I, like others asked to discuss this topic of "emerging leader" feel that I may have fallen into the role.  I went to undergrad for painting.  The entire four years I was there, I knew that I didn't want to attempt the profession of "studio artist."  I always knew I would be an administrator but didn't really know what that entailed.

Following college, I got lucky enough to be hired as a gallery assistant at a new gallery with a growing reputation for quality.  This allowed me to network with older colleagues in the field and pretend I knew what I was doing administratively.  Unfortunately, the gallery closed and I had to find another job - quick!  It just so happened that a fantastic community arts center was looking to hire an Exhibition Manager to coordinate for their two gallery spaces.  Again, I somehow convinced them that I knew what I was doing and learned on the job.

After two years, I decided it was time to drop everything I was doing and return to school.  I didn't want to be in a gallery, I wanted more from the arts.  The problem was that I didn't know what I wanted.  My writing sample for my grad application was basically a statement such as this - "The arts are where I need to be.  In what form?  I have no idea.  I want to be in your Arts Management program so that I have the opportunity to dabble in a couple of areas."

It has been truly exciting and invigorating to follow this blogging experience. I have read great ideas (P.A.D.T.H.A.I), felt validated (A Lonely Place to Be), and seen that I have the same basic opinion as others but am there by an entirely different circumstance (Stop Blah, Blah, Blahing...). Indeed this project has shown that emerging leaders have much in common and share many of the same goals, fears, and visions for the future of this field. We are also incredibly diverse and ready for action.

To me one of the most important aspects of professionalism is follow through. Actually get your work done, return emails (sooner rather than 2 weeks later!), remember to attach the file, evaluate the work, use that data to make the next time even better, call the potential partner or new contact you just met, etc etc etc. Of course, this is not always easy as there are only increasing demands on limited time. But one cannot lead if one cannot meet these commitments (and then dream of new projects that require more follow through!)

In 2003, I found myself barely thirty and running an arts organization that was five years older than me. I had interned at this organization just ten years prior as a first year in college. While the circumstances around my experiences were unique in that Linda Mabalot, my mentor and the executive director of the organization of 17 years, passed away suddenly, forcing the organization into transition and change, the lessons that I learned from our relationship are worth sharing.

Here are the five things that Linda taught me about mentoring emerging leaders.

Mentorship….
•Is about sharing a passion. In searching for a mentor, finding one that you share a passion with is key. The rest will come organically from there.

•Is not a scheduled weekly or monthly meeting. Linda was always available for me to ask questions, share ideas and strategize together. If a mentorship is really working, it could be a lifelong relationship.

•Is a two way street. This is an opportunity for both the mentor and the mentee to learn from each other. Linda and I shared a truly give and take relationship.

As I thought about this blog, I began to think about what I wished someone had told me when I was an emerging leader.  Here’s my list so far:

•    Most people are doing the best they can do at any given moment. What they are doing may not be OK with you. It may not meet your standards. It may not be something that you want in your life or your arts organization, and you don’t have to agree with or support their actions --- but it’s my observation that no one gets up in the morning asking themselves how they can screw up.

•    People who don’t have any appreciation for the arts in any form aren’t wrong. They aren’t bad. They aren’t stupid. They don’t need to be scolded, shot, or stamped out. They just don’t share your opinion. Allow room in the world for wonderful people who don’t appreciate the arts the way that you do.

This was a hard lesson for me. And the more passion I had about something, the more I pushed. Many years ago a board member took me aside after an advocacy meeting and shared his observation that when people disagreed with me, I raised the volume of my voice and repeated myself.  "It’s not that they didn’t hear you, Ramona. They heard you.  They just didn’t agree with you."

I want to express my appreciation to my fellow Salon bloggers last week and everyone who has commented—you’ve given me a lot to think about. Before I go, though, I want to make what seems to me like an essential point. We’ve spent a lot of time in this salon so far talking about problems, but solutions have been somewhat elusive. I think part of the reason is contained within a comment I wrote earlier last week on my Generation Y and the Problem of “Entitlement” post but didn’t realize the true significance of until later:

I think the generational shifts are a related, but separate phenomenon from the concentration of power in our field at the top and the frustration that many feel as a result of it, regardless of generation.

There are really two separate issues we’re talking about here, and that’s why our wires keep getting crossed. On the one hand, we have genuine ways in which Generation Y is different from all the generations that came before, particularly with regard to how technology has impacted our communications habits, our work ethic, our social norms, and most importantly, our expectations for ourselves and others. However, this is NOT the same thing as the second issue: the concentration of power in a few individuals that pushes out other voices, both at an organization level and in the wider field. THAT is not new at all, and in fact is probably in a better place now than it ever has been.