Leadership Isn’t Always Pretty: Lessons From My First Semester as President

This semester has been a rude awakening.

Taking on my first true “adult” leadership role as President of the Social Work Society—our student-led organization—was something I pursued with excitement. I had clear visions and deeply believed that certain initiatives could genuinely benefit our student body. And I didn’t waste time getting started.

In just one semester, I launched a newsletter for the School of Social Work, collaborated with the field department to implement new tools like the field work timeline, office hours, and a cheat sheet. I was a part of a color label system for cohorts across the MSW program, started Gather for Growth—a monthly Teams call and podcast for faculty mentorship—and formalized how students receive graduation cords. My to-do list is still long, and I’m eager to keep building.

But here’s the truth: It’s become painfully obvious that my level of initiative is not always appreciated—and sometimes outright irritating to others.

Some have voiced this to me directly, particularly only when I asked, “What’s bothering you?” Others, I know, prefer private conversations behind closed doors. Either way, I’ve come to accept that I’m not exactly everyone’s cup of tea.

I’m passionate. I hyper-focus when I care. When I get an idea that excites me, I move—quickly and fully. But that energy has been misinterpreted as overbearing. I’ve been told to “slow down” by faculty. Some students feel excluded. And while I don’t relate to that feeling (if I want in on something, I jump in), I’m learning that leadership isn’t about what makes sense to me—it’s about what makes others feel seen, heard, and respected.

Leadership, I’ve learned, also means learning to take feedback—even when it’s hard, even when it feels personal. It means listening, affirming someone’s experience even if it clashes with your own, and finding ways to adapt. I try to respond with: Analyze. Affirm. Accept. Apologize. Act.

And yet… even after making changes, I find myself back in the same spot: met with silence, passive aggression, or resistance when I share new ideas and invite participation. It’s frustrating—especially when you’re showing up for others and still being met with friction.

I’m confrontational, yes—but not in a harmful way. I believe in open, honest dialogue. But not everyone operates that way. Some avoid. Some undermine. Some criticize from the sidelines. And it stings.

Still, I’m not quitting. I’m not slowing down. I will continue creating, pushing for growth, and building what I believe in—with or without a group standing behind me. If others don’t want to contribute, that’s okay. But I won’t shrink myself or feel guilty for doing the work that serves others.

This is leadership. It’s messy. It’s emotional. It’s eye-opening. But it’s also worth it.

Next semester, I move forward—wiser, tougher, and more committed than ever.