Leading Through Complexity and a Reason For Optimism

Why a roomful of leaders in Minneapolis left me hopeful, even now

Minneapolis is living through an exceptionally intense moment in its civic life. Aggressive federal immigration enforcement is unfolding in real time, met by sustained local activism, protests, and legal challenges that now shape everyday civic interactions and carry profound (and even deadly) consequences. For many residents, particularly within immigrant communities, this moment is defined by fear — fear of visibility, fear of separation, fear of what an ordinary day might suddenly bring. That ongoing pressure sits alongside the lingering shock of last summer’s targeted assassinations of public officials in Minnesota, reminders that public service, and civic life more broadly, can feel deeply exposed, personal, and fraught all at once.

In moments like this, public life tends to harden. Conversations narrow. Positions calcify. The instinct to retreat, to choose sides, or to disengage altogether can feel not only understandable but rational. Dialogue itself can begin to feel unsafe, insufficient, or naïve — a luxury ill-suited to moments of real danger and consequence.

Last August, long before this latest escalation, I was invited to deliver my Leading Through Complexity keynote for the Minnesota School Boards Association. That invitation brought me to Minneapolis last week, where nearly 1,000 school board leaders gathered from communities across the state — elected officials, appointed members, and professional staff. They arrived carrying the same headlines, the same weight, and the same questions — even as they brought different political beliefs — about how public institutions are supposed to function when the civic ground feels this unstable.

Early in the session, I asked a simple question using a format familiar to those who have seen me speak before. Through their smartphones, participants responded anonymously and simultaneously, creating a live word cloud. In a moment defined by fear, consequence, and division, what appeared on the screen was striking — not because it ignored reality, but because it met it deliberately.

The question itself was straightforward:

How do we expect to engage with each other, even when we disagree?

What appeared on the screen was striking.

The most common response, by far, was respectfully. It appeared more than 200 times. Close behind were listen and respect. From there came honestly, open-minded, empathy, curiosity, grace, kindness, trust, understanding, civility, compromise, common ground, mutual respect, patience, professionalism, and integrity.

There were lighter moments too. Snacks made a strong showing, alongside coffee and pizza. Minnesota’s personality came through with a few well-placed ooftas. Even those responses carried meaning. They reminded everyone in the room that governance is a human endeavor, sustained by relationships as much as rules.

What mattered most was not any single word. It was the consistency.

In a moment when headlines suggest that disagreement inevitably leads to breakdown, nearly 1,000 public leaders independently named the same expectations for how to stay in a relationship with one another. Not because they believe disagreement will disappear. Because they know it must be handled.

This is where optimism becomes reasonable.

Too often, optimism is mistaken for denial. As if believing in better civic behavior requires ignoring conflict, power, or pain. That is not what I witnessed in Minneapolis. These school board leaders were not distancing themselves from reality. They were naming the discipline required to meet it.

Local governance, whether in school boards, city councils, or county commissions, is where democracy is most tangible. These are the bodies that decide how schools are funded, how communities grow, how services are delivered, and how neighbors encounter one another through public systems. When these bodies fracture, trust erodes quickly. When they function well, even amid disagreement, trust has a chance to grow.

What the word cloud revealed is that many local leaders already know what effective engagement requires. Listening before responding. Assuming positive intent. Staying curious. Speaking honestly. Maintaining dignity. Focusing on shared purpose, especially when serving students and future generations.

None of that guarantees agreement. But it creates the conditions for progress.

That matters right now because so much of our national conversation has become performative. Loud voices dominate. Outrage is rewarded. Nuance is flattened. In that environment, it is tempting to believe that respectful dialogue is outdated or weak.

The evidence from Minneapolis suggests otherwise.

These leaders are not asking for silence or conformity. They are asking for professionalism, humanity, and courage. Courage to stay at the table. Courage to listen to views they may strongly oppose. Courage to slow down when emotions run high. Courage to remember that disagreement is not a failure of leadership, but an inherent feature of it.

This is not about politeness for its own sake. It is about sustaining institutions that can actually do their work. Schools do not improve when boards are locked in perpetual conflict. Communities do not thrive when councils cannot deliberate. Civic life does not endure when dialogue collapses.

The optimism here is not abstract. It is practical.

Across the country, in rooms like this one, local leaders are choosing to hold themselves to standards that the broader culture often abandons. They are choosing respect over ridicule. Listening over shouting. Curiosity over certainty. That choice does not make headlines. But it shapes outcomes.

The future of our civic life will not be determined only by national figures or viral moments. It will be shaped, day by day, in school board meetings, council chambers, and committee rooms where people decide how to engage when they disagree.

Last week in Minneapolis, nearly 1,000 leaders made their expectations clear. They expect dialogue. And in this moment, that

is not naïve at all. It is a disciplined, hopeful, and deeply necessary act of leadership.