Leading with Listening – Lessons from Prince Edward Island
Leadership often conjures images of speeches, suits, and strategies. On Prince Edward Island, I discovered a leadership rooted in a deep sense of place. Whether on Lennox Island’s shifting shorelines, amid Summerside’s solar arrays, or in the classrooms of Charlottetown, I learned that leadership is as much about presence as it is about movement.
During our trip, the importance of listening was underscored many times. Deep, active, and sometimes uncomfortable listening. Mi’kmaq teachings of etuaptmumk (two-eyed seeing) offered more than a framework for policy, they modeled a mindset. Seeing through both Western and Indigenous lenses invited reflection. “What am I missing?” quickly became, “Who am I not listening to?”
When learning about the practice of peer coaching, I was challenged not to offer advice, but to hold silence. To create space and ask questions that helped others find their own clarity. The shift from fixing to questioning reframed how I show up as a teammate, a professional, and a person. I learned that leadership begins not with answers, but with questions.
On Lennox Island First Nation, we heard about the struggle against rising tides and collapsing coastlines, and the race to protect both infrastructure and identity. The conversation wasn’t only about erosion; it was about resurgence. Language is returning. Sovereignty is rebuilding.
In Summerside, we met public servants who have drafted a bold plan to power the city through renewable energy. As we listened to their plans and partnerships, thoughts of possibility buzzed amongst us as we imagined a future that was already underway.
At the Climate Smart Lab, surrounded by drones and technology, I was reminded how essential data is and how incomplete it can be without lived experience. In Souris, a potato grower and a group of researchers reminded me that resilience lives in the field, in the hands, and in the everyday wisdom that numbers don’t always catch.
The stories we heard, overlapping at times, contradictory at others, revealed the complexity of this province and our nation. It reminded me that true leadership begins with listening to communities and understanding their needs and priorities.
What PEI gifted me was a reminder that leadership rooted in community and care is not a soft skill, it is a necessary one. I left this tour with an evolving sense of commitment to being in relationship with people, communities, and the world.
I don’t have it all figured out, and I know that’s not the point. Growth doesn’t mean certainty. It means movement. In PEI, between the potato farms and the water’s edge, I learned to move a little differently. And I am left wondering what it might look like to let listening guide our next moves?
