My fascination with the art of leadership began before I ever strapped on my first pair of crampons. I’ve been interested in the topic ever since I held my first position in government.
After a hard-fought electoral win, I was voted into office at a younger age than most politicians. The campaign trail had been rough on my family and me. I had to gather enough signatures to get my name on the ballot, and then I relied on good old grassroots campaigning in order to defeat my opponent. I didn’t have much of a budget. My family helped me make posters for walls and lawns, and buttons for people to wear on their shirts. I tried to meet with as many of my constituents as I could in the hope of convincing them that I deserved their support on election day.
I learned the art of shaking hands and looking people in the eye and asking for exactly what I wanted: their votes. And I got them. And at the ripe old age of thirteen, I became the student body president of my elementary school.
The voters to whom I was accountable were the kids enrolled at Madison Meadows, a public school in the sweatbox known as Phoenix, Arizona—my hometown. I distinctly remember the swearing-in ceremony and how I felt, because the thought racing through my mind was: What the hell am I supposed to do now? Sure, I had been vice president of the school the previous year, when I was a seventh grader. My campaign slogan back then was “Place Your Money, Roll the Dice, Vote Alison Levine for Vice.” I figured the President after Vice would be inferred (although those who knew me as a kid probably had a different interpretation). But most vice presidents don’t really do anything, so my role as veep didn’t necessarily prepare me for anything that might come my way as president.
I don’t think I left behind a lot of concrete achievements as elementary school president, to tell the truth (sorry about that, guys!). But I did feel a responsibility to look out for the kids on the playground. When something bad happened—someone pushed someone else off the monkey bars, or a kid jumped off one end of the teeter-totter and sent the other kid flying off his or her seat—I felt compelled to intervene.
But here’s the thing: looking back, I realize that I should have felt compelled to intervene even if I weren’t the president. It’s important to keep reminding ourselves that it’s our responsibility to look out for one another. It’s never too early to get into that mind-set. We should start teaching our kids about leadership in elementary school.
Every mission we undertake in our lives should not only be about reaching the goal, but also about the people we affect and the lessons we learn along the way. The journey is where we find perspective. My hope is that the insights I’ve shared from my various expeditions will inspire and enable people to embrace and master a leadership mind-set, which is as much about how we reach our goals as it is about actually reaching them.
Thank you for reading this book, for joining me on my adventures, and for allowing me to share my thoughts on leadership with you. Maybe you’ve worked for decades to become a good leader. Or maybe your work is just starting. Either way, the lessons you learn and practice will affect all aspects of your life. I believe that if you make yourself a better leader, you will make the world a better place for yourself and your teammates—the other inhabitants of our beautiful, challenging planet.
Never let failure discourage you. Every time you get to the base of a mountain (literal or metaphorical), you’re presented with a new opportunity to challenge yourself, to push your limits beyond what you thought possible, to learn from climbers on the trail ahead of you, and to take in some amazing views. Your performance on the mountain you climbed last week or last month or last year doesn’t matter—because it’s all about what you are doing right now.
I know that I did my absolute best to get to the summit of Mount Everest on May 24, 2010. I also know that there will always be more mountains to climb… so going forward, after each one, I have to be even better.