I walk through the forest and see a few old and sturdy trees, that are dominating their surroundings. I look up and see how they sway in the wind, but they bend and hold and aren’t bothered in the slightest. Down here in their shadow, I am surrounded by an army of saplings. Most of them are thin and tall, eager to reach up as high as possible because they all compete for the little light that shines beyond the crown of the giants above. They will grow broader and sturdier once they get more light, they think. From time to time a giant falls or loses a part of the crown in a storm or because of old age and the little saplings get more light than before. The tallest of them are growing fast, racing to fill the patch of precious sunshine with their own leaves. Sometimes all goes well and they find their place, slowly growing more and more sturdy and with enough time, becoming a giant solid tree themselves. But way up there, close to the sun, it is also the windiest and the thin, tall saplings are not always well prepared for the strong breeze they suddenly encounter up there.

Personally, I prefer growing in the shadows, silently, slowly, but steadily. Sure, I still need to compete with my fellow saplings, and I have met colleagues, who easily shot past me, to reach heights I am not even sure I ever want to reach. If I were to decide I would just mind my own business, creating my tiny contribution to the gigantic endeavour of science in my own little corner of my metaphorical scientific woodland. But I do need the sunlight. I do need publications, data, connections, and funding. But if I am being honest, I also need to be planted in the right place at the right time. Not too close to the shadows of the giants, but just on the very fringe of their shadow, the sweet spot, where I am sheltered from the wind, jet get enough sunlight to thrive. Close enough to be supported, but with enough space to grow and do my own thing.

I know, I know, I am stretching my metaphor, so what do I mean in real life? How do I “grow in the shadows” in my scientific career. Let me start with the disclaimer, that these are just my own thoughts and observations and I am no expert in career development and leadership and so on. In my life (both private and academic) I was occasionally offered opportunities to take responsibility of some kind. Sometimes I had the time to think it through carefully and was able to feel well prepared when the time came. Sometimes, it was a surprising “I think you could do this!” from a peer or superior in a group meeting, or some other setting that demanded a quick response. In this case, my initial reaction usually is screaming “No, too much!” in my head. However, I learned to ask questions about the workload and specific tasks and responsibilities instead. I learned to ask when I needed to make that decision and come up with a list of conditions that needed to be met for me to take over that responsibility. Often, this is enough to make a decision I won’t regret a few days later, even if I am given a limited time to decide, but it did take some time to train myself not to give in to my initial “flight or freeze” reaction.

I also learned to choose small responsibilities, here and there, whenever I feel comfortable. Want to learn how to supervise and lead? Start with school interns and coaching in sports! Want to write a book one day? Find a platform, to publish smaller pieces of your work to practice (totally arbitrary example btw.) Want to successfully lead and manage your own prestigious scientific project one day? Treat your own little side projects (like running a blog) as professionally as if they were a well-funded science project. If you start small, your mistakes will be small and you know where to look for potential problems once you take more and more responsibilities. And don’t forget that you don’t have to make all those mistakes yourself. I have worked for and under a range of people with varying leadership skills by now and taken note of what worked and what didn’t work for them. I recently read (but couldn’t find the article later) that the only thing good leaders have in common is that they know their strengths and weaknesses (and communicate and use them effectively) and are able to build a team with complementary abilities around them.

So, where do all my wise words and actions leave me? Am I a natural leader? A charismatic, confident woman, ready to take on the world? Well, sometimes! Maybe? I still get overwhelmed, and I still sometimes regret having said “yes!” to something (or “no!”, in some cases). I am still sometimes stuck in freeze mode. I still feel every breeze rustling my crown and think it could be the first sign of a storm (to get back to my metaphor one more time). But, slowly and steadily, I am growing. Honing my skills, until, one day, I am ready to stretch out and grow into the light.

Elisa Klein