I'm 22 and I Built A Desk

Spoiler alert: I built a desk

The other day, one of my favorite undergraduate art professors linked to the article Misled Into Leadership by Paul Dunion, ed.D., LPC. Although my professor posted the article to 
Facebook in reference to the administration at the University of Connecticut, saying, "Upper administration may or may not be leaders, yet this is the perception that has been created and bought", I couldn't help but think about the article in terms of my own development as a leader as facilitated by years of public education and an unintentionally male-centered family unit.

The article breaks down the definition of a leader and speculates what causes a person to go with a leader regardless of what that person might actually want. So I too will follow the outline of the article to tell you the story of how I built an IKEA-style desk for my room.


Leading from the Interior: A person who understands herself is a person worth following, particularly if that person is able to recognize their fear and seek necessary support, rather than making fear-based decisions.

As you know, I recently moved to Ireland. I have new housemates in a new apartment, and for the first time I am independent of any facilitating program (or family) that would care about the particulars of my living situation. One of my first concerns was obtaining a desk so I could paint and draw. With my budget, that meant a deconstructed desk that came in a long, skinny box. The instructions had no words, only images. And no parts were labelled.

Ehhh...

Internal Balancing: Recognition, acceptance, and employment of the emotions guiding our actions.

Is it crazy to have a lot of emotions about cheap wood and screws scattered across my bedroom? Because I had a lot of emotions about this deconstructed desk. Growing up, my dad always had my older brother and I trailing behind as he made repairs to our two hundred and fifty year old house. Scott, though developmentally delayed, was taught to cut wood, finish decks, and patch up walls. Yet my hand never touched a hammer. Perhaps I'd be allowed to help by carrying materials or painting a little, but I was never taught how to complete a "manly" task from start to finish. As I grew older, my chores moved completely indoors, where I could then watch my little brother learn chores not meant for me.

Over time, I started to think: I'm bad at woodworking. I can't build a bench. This lesson was reinforced at school, where a boy who slacked off in Woodworking class was reprimanded, while I was rewarded with good grades when I giggled instead of worked. I figured everyone was letting me off the hook because they understood I was incompetent. I was in awe of men, who could do everything I could do and more. I understood my place.

Now, as an adult, I know I can do any simple task. Even those "meant for men". But I feel a lot of worry. I am scared that if I mess up a "manly" task, I will prove to the world that I am incompetent after all.

One down, two to go.

Internal Centering: An awareness of who you give up power to simply because you perceive them as being better educated or otherwise better off in society.

I might have achieved some modicum of independence at my university, away from home for the first time, but I tend to be a serial monogamist. There was always a boyfriend around to complete undesirable tasks, from running errands in the snow to building shelves for my art studio. BEB (beautiful elf boyfriend) was perhaps the worst offender. Brimming with love and hyperaware of the uselessness I projected and reinforced every day, he'd do anything for me. It's really quite odd how I do reinforce the label I grew up with. I'll complain to no end about carrying anything heavy. And if I need to build anything in front of another person, I freeze up and joke about my own lack of skills.

Even beyond that, I convinced myself that BEB was hyperskilled. There was no point in me even trying to build a shelf for my art studio because he was SO GOOD AT IT. It's true that BEB is talented at many things, but I used my perception of his experience to justify why it would be impossible to match his skillset.


Internal Discretion Identifies When to Listen and When to Have a Voice: Speaking and taking action is only as important as listening excessively.

Naturally, the first thing I did with my unfinished desk was sit and panic. I wondered if I could pay someone to build it for me. I even thought about how much easier it would be to do enough commission work to buy BEB a ticket. That's right, I believed in my ability to raise a thousand dollars more than I believed that I could put together a simple desk.

Then, of course, I started to try to join pieces together. I must have spent a solid hour fumbling around randomly until finally I opened the manual.

Not pictured here: the back part of the desk, where I accidentally broke the wood, rendering three screws useless. Then I tried to make up for it with an extra nail but gave up halfway through because it wouldn't go in.

Internal Commitment to Bring Compassion and Forgiveness to Themselves When Making a Mistake

I got glue all over the floor. Two of the weird twisty screws won't hold the desk together the way they should. It took me half an hour to figure out which slab of wood was supposed to be "part E". My housemates watched an entire movie in the time it took me to build half a desk.

Yet I decided not to get frustrated.

Over the years, I've worked with a number of animals. I especially learned a lot of patience in the last few weeks, training my mom's new puppy. I opted for positive reinforcement, never punishment, and I offered affection at every turn.

Finally I wondered: What if I were to teach myself with kindness, too?

Why do I lead animals with love, while showing only impatience and ambition to human beings, both myself and others?

I'm 22 and I built a desk. Perhaps it's odd to relate a solitary activity to the qualities of leadership, but after spending so much time in undergrad focusing on my strengths, I'm past overdue to work on my weaknesses. I can't lead others until I learn to take action with confidence, empathy and reflection.