You, As A Protagonist

How invested are you in being a protagonist?

Not the “hero,” necessarily. Or even the love interest. But a protagonist?

While you think about that, I like this part of the definition of a protagonist, especially “one of the most prominent figures in a real situation.”

Painting the protagonist picture, you don’t have to be the only. You are not necessarily solo in your quest. Think of all the great ensemble casts that work together to slay a proverbial dragon (Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, Star Wars, et cetera).

Depending on your mood, your age, and your central personality traits, you may resonate with any one of the protagonists in a story. They become the person you are “rooting for.” You care about that character’s inner monologue, their decisions, their actions, and inactions.

I bet you’ve heard the term “main character energy” or “that person is giving main character energy” in recent months. It’s worked its way into the popular lexicon for some as a general call-in for wallflowers to take up more energetic space. “Main character energy” feels part confidence, part focus, part willingness.

As best I understand it, this “main character energy” movement is NOT about unearned bravado. It’s NOT about being “full of yourself” or smarmy or selfish. As an observer of social media and cultural undulations, it seems to me that embodying “main character energy” is about earnest empowerment.

In the world we currently inhabit, there are A LOT of distractions. We could each be hooked up to an IV drip of news, articles, and posts all day long, and there would be plenty to fill our veins.

We are inundated with stimuli. Visual. Auditory. Energetic.

We’ve got computers buzzing in our pockets, daring us to swipe up and see what’s going on.

Given that reality, we must learn how to be incredibly discerning – with our time, energy, and attention. We have choices to make – what we are going to pay attention to and what we are going to let pass.

There is grabby energy coming at us from every which way. If we are to be main characters in our own lives, we are going to have to avoid distraction and set intentions to move our own storyline forward.

Protagonists. I got to thinking about this word and the concept more broadly because last night, I watched an interview of writer Simon Rich. Neal Brennan asked him questions, and he talked about what it was like writing a story from the vantage point of Paul Revere’s horse.

You read that right, not Paul Revere (famous for “The British Are Coming!”), but Paul Revere’s horse.

Shifting the protagonist shifted the perspective of the story. It also included a key character—as Simon unironically pointed out, it’s not like Paul Revere would have gotten where he was going with such speed on foot—the horse made an enormous difference. It’s just true ;)

In this case, the horse was a main character all along; it’s just that we hadn’t noticed.

Let me get from this horse to my point…

As you know, my vocational plotline is centered around equity and adults in the workplace. I have observed time and time again that when clients come to me craving change for themselves and their colleagues, they are most often focused on other people.

I get it. They are thinking about what the bosses could and should do. They are talking about hiring committees making strange choices and board members feeling far away.

Here’s the thing, I have found in my life and my work there is tremendous value in consistently asking myself the questions:

1) What is currently IN MY CONTROL?

2) What could I TRY THIS WEEK to make things better?

3) Given who I am and how I am, how might I be UNIQUELY HELPFUL?

Less about other people – who I cannot force to do anything if I’m honest. I may want other people’s thinking and behavior to be different, but I’m going to have to get there by ME doing something.

It is worth remembering we can each choose to be a protagonist in our environments. Ideally, I want us to act from a place of self-empowerment.

I am NOT pretending we have all the power. Or that we, alone, can wave a magic wand and change shit overnight.

But all the time, clients ask me where to start. My counsel is consistent: you model. Show, don’t tell.

- Model naming your consistent awareness that race and gender are relevant in all your working relationships.

- Model making amends when you fuck up.

- Model receiving correction without crumbling from fragility.

- Model resilience strategies that work for you.

- Model tenacious problem-solving.

- Model listening and applying what you’ve learned.

As a student of the Enneagram for more than a decade, one of the things I have been working on most in my ongoing practice is taming what is known as my “social dominant instinct.” Having just watched a bunch of the track and field events at the Olympics, the most apt metaphor is that my social dominant instinct gets out of the blocks first. The starting pistol is fired, and seemingly, at the speed of light, I think about other people.

Don’t get me wrong - considering others is perfectly nice. I like that I am empathetic, curious, and knitted in relationships and community. I like that I have other people to think about, care about, and check in with. And yet, when my social instinct runs roughshod and takes up way too much space, I forget to include myself.

You may have heard the term - learned helplessness. It’s a tough one. Essentially, it’s the result of repeatedly feeling like we can’t, we shouldn’t, we won’t. It’s the physical, psychological, and spiritual/emotional feeling of dis-empowerment. That’s NOT how we’re going to make change. And it’s certainly not how we will feel about our integrity and pride in our own actions and behaviors.

I’ve heard of that phenomenon of moms hardly ever appearing in photos of their own families. Have you? Apparently, it’s partly because they are the ones taking the photos and in part because sexism and misogyny have colluded to make moms feel less than photo-ready after having kids. Whatever the reason, I have heard many women intentionally try to get back in these photos. To remember that they are, in fact, one of the protagonists in their own life. They are not merely observers. Or ancillary characters without lines or plot points.

To be honest, I am NOT particularly worried about us overdoing it. Before you make excuses as to why thinking of yourself as a protagonist would be dangerous, let me dissuade those concerns.

We are healthy and well—in the sense that we are NOT currently dangling on the precipice of megalomania. We will not break with reality and suddenly think we are in charge of the whole wide world. So, relax. Take a breath. Take another breath—it can’t hurt.

What would it be like, feel like, and result in thinking of yourself as one of the protagonists in your current work situation?

- As a protagonist, what would you ask for or offer that you haven’t, just yet?

- Recognizing yourself as a protagonist, what would a “prominent figure in a real situation” do this week that would tangibly advance equity in your org and culture?

- Knowing that you too, are one of the protagonists, how does that change what you would typically wait for others to move on that you may choose just to go ahead and get started?

I’m going to try this exercise with you. I will consider myself a protagonist for the next week and practice noticing what occurs to me differently, given that moniker and positionality. I also like the compound questions: If not me, who? If not now, when?

I’m going to try this out and report back. I hope that you’ll do the same! Let me know what you notice - trina@trinaolson.com.

P.S. Early Bird Registration Closes September 1 for my Four-Part Cohort for Leaders – email me and we can connect about your participation. I’d love to have you join us!

Until next week,