Pass the Baton: The Next Generation of Leaders

Pass the Baton: The Next Generation of Leaders

When I was a little girl, I thought the baton was actually a magic wand because whenever a music director would wave it, magic began filling my ears. It was enchanting; they had not one instrument, but all the instruments in their control just by waving their arms. I was fortunate enough to join a Youth Symphony Orchestra when I was seven years old, which gave me a front row seat to the magic-making process. 

I am not a little girl anymore, but I am still intrigued by the power of the baton. Not long ago, I received one as a gift from my mentor. My eyes widened as he placed it in my hands, waiting to feel the surge of superpowers running through my veins now that I was a real conductor with a real baton. 

But that didn’t happen. 

It’s…a stick. A thin piece of wood painted white that is chipping in places and has scratches on the handle. It’s old, very worn and used, and is actually probably ready to be thrown out. In and of itself, it’s about as compelling as my big toe. And that’s when I realized: the potential for greatness does not lie in the baton itself, but in the person holding it.  

A person is not born knowing how to be a good music director, the same way they are not born holding a baton. No one comes out of the womb with a perfect 4/4 pattern and a knack for balancing an orchestra. It’s a learned art. 

How is it learned? By passing the baton. 

It is a symbol of knowledge, tenderness, beauty, wisdom. There is hidden determination in this little stick, hope for a brighter tomorrow. These things are a recipe to create a better leader, and we don’t learn these things alone. We learn from the leaders before us, who learn from the leaders before them. Each generation passes the baton to the next when the time is right, and we take the lessons we’ve learned from our successors along with our own innovative ideas to make the world better in whatever way we can. 

My entire life, I’ve eagerly awaited the day when the baton would be mine to hold. Now it is here, and I don’t feel ready. I’m willing to bet that I’m not alone in feeling this way; we’ve all probably experienced feelings of inadequacy for something important or bigger than us. But even if we feel like we can’t fill the shoes, you don’t have to “grow into” the baton. It can always be waved in a million different directions; whichever direction we choose, as leaders. And if the direction you choose doesn’t work, wave it another way. This is the beauty of leadership.  

When you’re suddenly holding the baton, will you lead the orchestra?