By Robert Adams Jr.
The art of leadership has been a consistent focus of my professional journey. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that conducting fieldwork research with folk healers in the Dominican Haitian borderlands would lead me to work with Fortune 500 leaders.
Yet leadership ties together the diverse sectors — higher education, philanthropy, nonprofits, and social movements — that I have served. I developed a leadership vision best summarized by Simon Sinek: “Leadership is not about being in charge. It is about taking care of those in your charge.”
Before arriving at Penn Center National Historic Landmark District, I worked as a leadership consultant for nearly four years. I supported a diverse range of corporate clients. Working across these diverse settings was challenging, as I supported personal and organizational leadership journeys.
One of my favorite experiences occurred when a pharmaceutical client rented out the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC) and Lincoln’s Cottage. It was thrilling to lead a DEI retreat for senior leaders in the room where Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation and in the newest repository of African American history and culture.
While I enjoyed advising organizational leaders, I missed the front lines of leadership, directly leading a community-based organization.
As an external advisor, I had to remember that my clients were operating in a “fog of war.” Carl von Clausewitz highlighted this context in his classic “On War” (1873): “War is the realm of uncertainty; three-quarters of the factors on which action in war is based are wrapped in a fog of greater or lesser uncertainty.”
Leading is a type of organizational warfare, waged inside and outside the organization. Leaders don’t just have to achieve goals; they must move the ball up the field amid half-truths, misinterpretations, and outright fabrications. As von Clausewitz reminds his reader: “A sensitive and discriminating judgment is called for; a skilled intelligence to scent out the truth.”
I am now riding the leadership lightning as Penn’s Executive Director, directly in the line of fire. Some of the fog is expected. I arrived at Penn from Boston without any apparent connections to the Carolina Lowcountry. Many are surprised when I share my deep Gullah Geechee ancestry.
I still face questions about why I came to lead Penn into its next phase. Recounting my calling raises as many suspicions as it answers. I am quite accustomed to being received as a stranger, having grown up as a military brat and worked abroad.
Other elements of the fog originate in the fantastical. The stranger, a source of curiosity, often is the subject of outlandish rumors. A rumor is floating around the island that I appropriated Penn’s resources to build a house in Orangeburg. The fact that I have never been to Orangeburg is beside the point. No matter how crazy a rumor is, it still must be considered seriously, maybe not literally, but symbolically for what larger truth it says about community concerns.
The rumors reveal an understandable fear that resources will be squandered or misappropriated. The rumor also indicates that the community overestimates Penn’s resources, while underestimating the enormous costs of maintaining a historic campus. The gap of understanding remains even as Penn demonstrates good stewardship and communicates openly about its resources, grants, and programs.
Since the 2024 Heritage Festival, I have fielded community criticism about the annual parade on Highway 21. The parade occurred on a fully closed highway for almost four decades. Population growth, access for emergency vehicles to islands beyond St. Helena, and traffic volume led local and state authorities to suggest seeking an alternate route. Through a series of conversations with local and state officials, we agreed to keep the parade on Highway 21 while only partially closing the road.
The compromise disappointed many on St. Helena Island; some suggested I had not fought enough for their rights. I understand their frustration and want to assure the community that I value their perspectives. Recognizing their feelings fosters understanding and strengthens our shared commitment to community well-being.
My charge is to hold the whole. In the process, I sometimes make mistakes, fall short, or fail to get everything I want. However, as a servant-leader focused on continuous improvement, I keep learning how to be the best leader I can be, faithfully serving Penn’s awesome legacy.
Over the last three years, the Board of Directors, Penn’s community volunteers, and I have leaned heavily on Penn’s legacy of excellence and its missions of education and advocacy to the island, the state, and the nation. We have expanded programs, created new ones, increased community engagement and youth interns from the island, and grown the number of external partners.
Similarly, we have eliminated underperforming programs and activities. Funders have recognized our efforts and have responded in kind.
My diverse professional journey across higher education, philanthropy, public policy, corporate America, and nonprofits allows me to lead this 164-year-old institution and its diverse stakeholders at the local, regional, and national levels. I proudly follow in the footsteps of Laura Matilda Towne, Ellen Murray, Charlotte Forten, Grace Bigelow House, Rossa Belle Cooley, and Courtney Siceloff, outsiders who proved that it wasn’t necessary to be Gullah leaders to serve the St. Helena Island community faithfully. But I remain open to critical feedback that decreases the fog of leadership.
Robert Adams Jr., Ph.D., is the Executive Director of the historic Penn Center on St. Helena Island.