Beth Ford

There are so many quotes about change and the certainty of change. Psychology Today has a blog devoted to a list of 20 of those quotes. And there is an entire list of jokes about changing . . . lightbulbs. How many Lutherans does it take to change a light bulb? None, because Lutherans do not change. I might resemble that joke. 

What does change look like to a leader who has become, perhaps, overly comfortable in their role? Is change a time for fear or an opportunity?

For 31 years, I was employed by the Eastern District of Tennessee’s federal defender organization, and for 23 years, I led that office as the community defender. Then, I retired because it was time. The office needed new leadership with new ideas, and the job I had loved was no longer bringing me the same joy it had.  

I was afraid I would become instantly irrelevant if I could no longer identify as a criminal defense lawyer. It had taken hard work to become that person, made more challenging by the fact that even though there was a willingness at The University of Tennessee College of Law to increase the number of women in the profession in the 1970s, that same willingness did not necessarily exist among members of the bar.  

My first job was in a general practice firm in Newport, Tennessee, where I was the first woman lawyer in a small town. I was more often than not mistaken for a secretary even after I had represented clients in the courtroom. When I became an assistant federal defender after 15 years of practice, I was fearful that I could not pivot from a juvenile court practice to federal criminal defense and learn something new. I also discovered that the same challenges as those in my first years of practice remained because the federal criminal defense, federal prosecution, and the federal bench were exclusively male dominated. Acceptance as a criminal defense lawyer and chief defender was an uphill battle, but I pushed through.

For six months, I tried out “traditional retirement,” which meant traveling and sleeping. But I struggled with figuring out who I was as a retiree. Vickie Niederhauser, the Dean of The University of Tennessee School of Nursing, helped me immensely when she recommended a book, From Strength to Strength by Arthur Brooks. (Dr. Brooks is a Harvard professor who serves on the Board of Fellows of The University of Tennessee’s Institute of American Civics.)  Dr. Brooks recounts his professional journey from musician to academic. He points out that research has established that some skills and abilities become stronger as people age and that the key is to focus on our strengths, not our weaknesses. That is not what I had been taught growing up. The focus was entirely on fixing the things that were wrong.

After a few months of being unable to move from compulsive list-making for each day, I received an invitation to be the Interim Director of the Institute for Professional Leadership. (Thank you, Dean Brown.)  The same doubts began to poke out again. Could I learn to do something new? What in the world did I know about leadership?

I had to have a serious conversation with myself, relying on Dr. Brooks’s book. Of course, I had skills and experiences that were transferrable to a new position. In over 40 years of practice, I have met numerous interesting people and have developed and maintained good relationships with many of them. I am unafraid to ask people to share their gifts with the Institute. I play well with others. I am organized, and I can break big projects into manageable pieces. I have a passion for students and their success. I can make a plan and outline how to accomplish it. Yes, change is an opportunity, even though it commonly coexists with fear. Yes, I can do this . . . at least until a permanent director is hired. And by engaging in self-reflection and then leaning into my strengths, I believe that I will be able to lead more confidently and joyfully.