Power: An Intentional Exploration
When I first became a school leader, I was obsessed with power.
Okay, that’s overstating it. I actually became obsessed with what happened in my relationships when my job title changed, which is connected to power.
I shifted from being peers with my colleagues to being their supervisor. Things shifted rather quickly. Before officially entering the role, longtime colleagues joked with me, saying things like, “Well, I guess I can’t tell you everything anymore” and shushing one another when I walked into the room. Some even started calling me “boss.” It made me cringe, but it also made me curious.
While colleagues’ comments were in jest, it was noticeable that I was about to enter a role that had more power and authority, and it was changing the energy around me. I called this new energy “the cushion of power,” and I’ve spent the last several years immersed in understanding how power operates in this cushion of workplace relationships, conversations, and amidst positional and social identities. In other words, I started doing the same thing I loved doing in middle school at the mall: people watching. But this time, it was power watching.
Power Watching
I feel like what I’m currently divulging is one of my best kept secrets. I love observing how people interact—and where power lies in those interactions.
I love observing what is said and unsaid—when people of differing identities and roles engage with one another around tricky and potentially contentious topics; when someone steps into their bravery and says the bold thing; when power holders make comments like, “My office is always open” and blur the lines between friendship and supervision; and when interactions end with more loose ends than solutions. I don’t like or condone when harm happens or when power is abused, but I’m also fascinated by what motivates people in moments where power is being exercised (spoiler alert: it’s typically fear). I often find myself wondering,
How is power operating in this moment?
Who has power? Who doesn’t?
Who perceives their power, and who is completely unaware?
I also notice my own power in interactions with others. Whether it’s my whiteness, a leadership position I hold, or a certain skill I possess, I’m aware when the role I’m playing could edge out the other person in terms of identity, status, or expertise. I’m also aware of when I have less power, when I’m overcompensating because of my more historically marginalized identities, or when the other person is exerting their power to coerce or manipulate.
Here’s another thing I’ve noticed: when I am the one holding more power and I name that, it can diffuse and level out the dynamic between me and the other person, creating space for more authentic dialogue. Conversely, when I am the one holding less power and I name that, the power-holder gets defensive, or says things like, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” or “I don’t actually have a lot of power,” or even worse, silence.
To observe social dynamics is to see power operating. The more we attune our self-awareness and pay closer attention to human interaction, the more we see what’s happening with power.
Why does this matter?
Because here’s my hypothesis: Recognizing, naming, and skillfully using power can improve relationships and trust, connection and belonging—and ultimately, dismantle oppressive systems.
To Become a Power Watcher, Start Here
It doesn’t take much to notice destructive uses of power these days. Let’s look at our political landscape. Whether voter suppression, sweeping anti-transgender laws, book bans, or sanitized school curricula, legislators across the United States are on a power trip. This kind of power is typically motivated by fear under the guise of something else: parents’ rights or protecting children. What this form of power is actually doing is shutting down authentic dialogue between those closer to the center of power and those on the margins, cushioning the comforts of a dominant majority at the sacrifice of those whose right to dignity is at constant risk.
We see gross exertions of power in our news cycle and political landscape, but power is operating all the time in more insidious ways through our own ways of being and daily workplace interactions. While it may feel overwhelming to interrupt all abuses of power in the world, it is possible to make small shifts within our spheres of influence. Shifting the balance of power begins with us. I recently completed Lily Zheng’s book, DEI Deconstructed, which contains a beautiful chapter on power and how it can be understood, used, and ceded within organizations. This chapter, along with a range of theorists and researchers I’ve been studying these days, inspired me to create a tool for individuals and organizations to use when exploring their relationship to power: The Power Grid.
The Power Grid and You
The Power Grid is adapted from Elias, 2008, ctd in Zheng, 2023; Canadian Council for Refugees; Duckworth; and Crenshaw (1991), The Power Grid is a reflective tool that invites people to
consider the different ways power is used, from coercive to charismatic practices
to plot oneself on their own personalized wheel
to reflect on their social and positional identities and ways they may step into or cede power
In one part of this tool, the grid takes the shape of a circle. Those who hold the most social or positional power closer to the center, and those who hold less power are at the margins with many gradations in between. Power holders are part of the smaller circle, which symbolizes our awareness of what’s dominant or “normative” in society. If this person were to look inward from their circle, they may not be able to recognize the margins as much. This is a reductive view, but this also is how power and privilege tend to operate. Those on the margins often experience, feel—and see—the impact of the bigger system as it’s operating while those in the center may be unaware of having any impact at all.
This grid is a complex tool, because none of us identify in one way; thus, there is room to include more identifiers than what’s on then grid. The grid is also complex because to one degree or another, we may hold some levels of positional or social power we weren’t aware of. Being able to notice where we are more powerful or marginalized gives us more agency about what to do with it.
Lessons from the Cushion of Power
Let’s plot my own experiences of leadership on this grid, for example.
When I became a leader, I was part of the senior admin team, which meant my positional power went from somewhere the middle of the grid (I was a classroom teacher and coach) to the center circle. I also had been at my site for over a decade, so my status was already closer to the center.
In terms of my social identifiers, my whiteness afforded me more power in society, as did my education level, able-bodiedness, and neurotypicality. So I plotted those toward the center as well. My queerness and gender were between the center and the margins. Here’s an example of what my power grid looks like overall:
What I learned from this was I held a lot of power, socially and positionally. I also learned that there is a lot I might not be able to notice about others, which meant I would need to do more learning about those I supervised: how they perceived their identities and power, and what it might look like to share power.
As I shared earlier, when I named my own power and asked supervisees what would allow us to share power, the conversations were more authentic and less charged by tacit assumptions. It doesn’t always mean I shared power, nor did it mean that the power dynamic was no longer present, but naming power gave me and those I worked with a lot more choice in how we interacted.
With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility
In the Jewish tradition, there is a guiding principle that once someone becomes aware of something, they become responsible for it; they can’t unknow what they know. As a leader, I couldn’t unknow my power.
One doesn’t have to be a leader to explore their power, but leaders set the tone in their organizations, which means others are taking their cues from what the leader does. If a leader is able to name and skillfully work with power, imagine what’s possible for the conversations we might have, where we can share power and empower where possible.
Imagine what might happen when conversations shift from the insidious to the intentional and when we dismantle and transform power in useful ways rather than destructive ones. Imagine the kinds of models we could be for young people in our schools if we did this kind of work.