Spearing Head
Saturday, October 20, 2012 @ 3:14 PM | 0 comment(s)

This is the time of the semester where projects are piled up higher and higher above our heads. It’s the time for research and endless reading and writing, for accomplishing requirements to be cleared from academic duties. And with projects, there is a team. Our professors think that giving group projects will make it easier for us, the tasks lighter and faster to carry out. Sometimes they’re right; most of the time they’re not.

That depends on the team and members you have.

I started becoming a “leader” when I was in high school. Back in grade school, I didn’t give my two cents about these things. I wasn’t active in class and there were smarter kids than me (I can’t even do simple Math without cheating). They can do that without me, I used to think. I still got into honor’s list for reasons I couldn’t seem to fathom. But high school slapped me with reality, hard and straight to my face: I need to step up my game; I need to lead to learn. And so when I started participating in class and acing my exams, my classmates noticed me and started assigning me to be the leader. I learned to accept the challenge, and – I’m not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing – the challenges never stop. I become the leader even if it’s already against my will.


Being the leader has its pros and cons.

Pros: Your members look up to you. They wouldn’t make a decision without consulting you first and giving your blessing or go signal. They think you’re smart and awesome. In good times, they respect you. You’re the face of your team. You hold the opportunity to inspire and influence. You are told about and know everything. You control. You get the most credit when your team successfully achieved things.

Cons: You carry everything and everyone. It’s your responsibility when things don’t fall into places. You represent your team, so every little thing the members do, you do, too; when they’re wrong, you’re wrong, too. You’re like the exact reflection of them, only on the other side there are more people, and on your side you’re alone. In bad times, your members don’t give a fuck. You will be their fortress and their wall: you accept the first blow, the first cut and all the firsts in the world. You get the most blame when your team sucked so badly.

You’re lucky when you get assigned to hardworking and determined members. You’re fucked when you get stuck with lazy asses and people who don’t care.

When unfortunately, you’re the latter, the team’s workload becomes your own – all of it. There’s no team anymore, there’s only you. You end up doing everything since you hate failing. Better accept all the responsibility other than have zero outcome. It’s hard, but hard work is better than no work. It’s frustrating, and you feel like you’re in the brink of falling, just a little push would do it and kill your will to succeed. You’re the so-called “spearhead”, but really, it only feels like someone’s spearing your head.


Leaders aren’t born, they are made. And they are made just like anything else, through hard work. And that’s the price we’ll have to pay to achieve that goal, or any goal.
© Vince Lombardi


I’m never the type who asks for help. I’d always believed that I can do things better on my own. I’m not practicing isolation and training myself to become a flourishing hermit, but I like doing things alone. This way, I know I’m accountable for everything; I don’t have the right to put the blame on anyone else – there’s only me. And I like it that way. This isn’t to say that I never needed help – of course, I do. I need help, frequently. The problem is that I never asked for it. I don’t go on and tap somebody’s shoulder and say, “Hey, can you be my hero this moment and save me from this tower of a workload? Don’t worry. Sword fighting and slaying dragons aren’t necessary.” I’m not that person. Maybe I don’t tell others that I’m helpless because I want to see some voluntary actions. I want to know that chivalry and good Samaritans aren’t dead. Sometimes it’s proven right, sometimes it’s hopeless.

There are times that I want to quit and not be a leader anymore. It’s utterly pathetic, but it’s already frustrating to the point that quitting isn’t pathetic any longer. I remember when I was a high school sophomore I almost got away from the duty. Almost. I got in a group with another honor kid and at that time she topped the class. So it was given that she’d lead us. I remember relishing that idea. It was cut short when the teacher noticed this flaw and decided to put me in another group. I don’t need to tell you what happened next. It was sad and I was hurt and it was funny and my life sucked. After that, my pre-relishing moments never happened again.


I believe in my team members, but too much faith is bad. You expect something from them and it would hurt if proven futile. I had this group member once. I didn’t know that she can do major editing because she didn’t look like it. I believed she can do it – she said so herself. We had constant communication about our project, but in the end she managed to give us something we can’t even look at. It wasn’t saved properly and it can’t be opened in applications other than hers. Good thing I had Plan B: Make Your Own. I did my own project and submitted it and told the professor that everyone contributed, that it was a “group effort”. I submitted it albeit the stark fact that it was bad and painful to watch. I resorted to the Revolting One other than the Invisible One. Another frustrating thing: when you did everything but still say that everyone did something. It’s a constant internal battle whether they deserve this mark or not, whether it’s despicable to justify that they shouldn’t benefit from it. It’s always a battle between Horrid Truths and Blissful Lies. I still believe in my team members and ration workloads, but the Plan B instinct always kicks in. There’s always a Plan B, and I’m the only one who knows about it.

I also got good members. They can do things, but some of them needs pushing first. But they deliver. And I’m lucky if fate makes them fall inside my team. Loads are lighter when everyone helps and carries them, right? When you got good people, you have better outcome. And confetti.


In the end, I don’t think a team necessarily has to have a leader. Members can do things even if nobody leads them. It should always be a Round Table Team: there’s no head table; everyone’s equal, all voices are heard, workloads are proportionally rationalized, there is group effort, everyone carries everyone. A team doesn’t need a head. A team needs a team.

← older / top / newer →
a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409