There’s a weird paradox at the heart of startup community leadership: we have to take the mission dead seriously—without taking ourselves too seriously. The mission is important, probably critical and the dollars, titles and effort are all on stage. John Glenn the astronaut said it best when he shared “we are more fulfilled when we are involved in something bigger than ourselves”.
When we show up to build community, we’re not signing up for applause (though that might be appropriate at times) or social media accolades (Really?? That’s important to you?).
To do this job right and to optimize for the outcomes we all want for our city, we’re saying yes to something bigger than our own name or job title. We are also saying yes to something bigger than the very organization we lead or manage.
Said simply, we’re choosing to foster an environment where others—especially founders—can thrive. If we start thinking it’s about us, we’ve missed the point and are heading down a slippery slope of mismatched goals.
Startup communities aren’t a stage; they’re a campfire. Everyone should feel welcome to pull up a chair, share their story, and get warm. The campfire is a circle not an organization’s seating chart.
Leadership works best when we, as leaders, create space with humility and humor. When we show up, not as gatekeepers or gurus, but as peer humans who care deeply about helping others win.
That’s why the communities that last are the ones led by folks who “give first,” ask real questions, and remember that ego is a community killer. And the leadership? It’s service, not spotlight.
We have to take the mission dead seriously—without taking ourselves too seriously.
When we treat our communities like sacred work—but laugh at ourselves, admit when we mess up, and never confuse the mission with our own identity—we give others permission to lead too. We multiply our impact. We build something resilient, something that doesn’t crumble the second we step away.
In the end, your startup community leadership won’t be remembered for how cool your events were or how often you were quoted in the paper. It’ll be remembered by the founder who stayed one more year because they felt supported. The 20-something who saw a local role model and decided to start something. The startup that found its first customer over pizza and cheap beer.
So let’s keep doing the work. Let’s just not get too full of ourselves while we’re at it.
Chris, I retired from publishing in August last year but just thought I’d drop you a note to say I enjoy everything you write on your blog. At present, I’m down my own rabbit hole, trying to save Calumet C.C. Don’t let the CC confuse you — it’s a 130-acre greenspace (stunning in beauty, rich in history, a guardrail defense against pollution of all sorts) bordering a community in need of inspired economic development. I have done things so unlike me — reaching out to a community of golf historians, local golf pros and golf superintendents, sustainability experts, the Donald Ross Society, the Western Golf Association, South Suburbs for Greenspace, the Homewood Historical Society, the Mayor and her staff at Hazel Crest, and even joined a community church (not like me), because the pastor and her congregation really had a sense of serving the community. Tonight is a big meeting with the Southland Development Authority (SDA)–the moment of truth–to discuss options for the property and what’s best. Just know your words are always valued by me. Through networking, win or lose, we have built an amazing team, bit by bit, that will hopefully shape the future direction of this greenspace. Love the Glenn quote (exactly how I feel at the moment) and what I needed going into the meeting. Build a fort.
Great email and a lessons for everyone regardless of the target – community matters.