Princess. Sister. General. Mother. Leader.

LEADERSHIP and Leia Organa

How a Star Wars Heroine Educates Us About Being the Better Person

Leia Organa © Lucasfilm/Disney • Sketch by author

Characters in fiction can be powerful vehicles for creators to connect with other people. They can be extensions of an author’s thoughts and feelings, unspoken to another, but told through an avatar of the written word. They can be ideal visions of what a person can be or vulnerable expressions of who an author is. They can also be perceptions — told from a certain point of view — of persons known. If ever there were ways to realize connections to people through an intangible force (it can move through all living things, can it not?), conjuring thoughts and beliefs from one’s imagination and characterizing them across digital space is as actionable as me writing these words for future readers of this piece.

Well-written characters can influence people to reshape their lives and to improve and, though visual effects or contrasting colors on a comic panel can draw people in, it’s a character and their particular story that bridges connections between us and another’s imagination.

Across film trilogies, the George Lucas-created character Leia Organa, from Star Wars, has experienced intense challenges that have shaped her narrative:

• She was an adopted child who never really knew her birth parents.
• Her father was once a respected Jedi who became a notoriously dangerous war criminal in service to a dictator.
• She witnessed the entire destruction of her home planet to imperial might and terror.
• Her lover and the father of her child was a noble-hearted, but unreliable scoundrel that regularly swindled other people.
• Her brother was a galactic icon who felt he failed as a teacher, friend, and family mentor, suddenly dropping everything and everyone at a time when he was desperately needed.
• Her son — a child raised under the expectations of royal lineage but absently parented by both Han and Leia — inevitably falls prey to the guidance of an abusive stranger and, later, follows in his grandfather’s footsteps to become yet another war criminal, responsible for the killings of countless communities across a galaxy she tried to bring out of oppression and fear.

In Leia’s political efforts, upon successfully aiding the end of an imperial government, she continued not only in trying to convince the people that they were better off without imperial rule (while, let’s not forget, attempting to navigate public perception that her father was Darth Vader to the masses), but also proving that she herself was worthy of a trusted role in leadership in the aftermath of a dictatorship.

People will connect to characters for a variety of reasons, but balancing service with personal interests and beliefs is a juggling act we all try to maintain, to some degree. To those aspiring to elevate their inherent traits as leaders, finding greater focus towards success requires failing at some things so that you can improve at others. Perhaps one of fiction’s favorite fantastical characters — Princess (later General) Leia — can prove to be an unorthodox example of how to lead better lives for ourselves and for the people we connect with.

*NOTE: this article reflects my personal thoughts and opinions on growth and improvement, relative to a character in fiction. It does not provide personalized advice, and is intended for entertainment and general education. I look for applicable value (finance, investing, growth) from less orthodox sources — like comics and cinema — and write about it. If you have fun thoughts to add, do so in the comments!

Topics Explored:

1. Not So Far, Far Away (disconnection in a group)
2. Rebel Leadership (minorities amongst major players)
3. To Love Anyway (to serve through compassion)
4. Those Who Come After (relinquishing control)

1. Not So Far, Far Away

Sometimes, it can feel disheartening when friends, family, classmates, coworkers, etc. simplify an interest, a hobby, or a skillset of yours to gender, age, or some other superficial trait (“boy stuff”, “girl stuff”, “kid stuff”), and you struggle to really bond with a group because of little things like that. Worthy credentials of respect have different definitions to different people, and though you might have built layers of fascination or expertise around what captivates you, it can feel belittling and excluding when those interests feel condescended, demeaned or, even, untrusted. It’s especially heartbreaking when others simplify based on ethnicity, financial background, educational background, living circumstances, or mere social awkwardness in a group setting.

Feelings of disconnection or separation happen whether you’re in school or are a working adult and, though inclusion seems prioritized these days, environments of exclusivity are still standard practice — in big groups or in small teams — and they do little more than stagnate people from achieving genuine, opened connection.

It can be a long exercise to connect with others, however. To include, or to cooperate, involves actively managing the challenges of routine negativism, exclusion, pessimism, or cynicism. Few are able to successfully maintain this on a repeat basis.

How do you keep focus positive and optimistic when there are those who might intentionally halt its momentum? Despite the events that occur throughout Leia’s life — both through the democracy-piercing tactics of imperial regimes and through more personal, internal choices she’s confronted with — we see her regularly taking the time to reflect and think about how her next actions are going to affect those she’s tasked with protecting. Leia often opts for consideration over impulsive reaction. She’s both diplomatic and brave (no doubt traits she inherited from her mother, Padmé), but she also considers that simplifying the contributions of others does little to build better bridges of unity and connection.

The passions and skills of other people, when given the freedom to openly flourish, often build to stronger, more layered strengths that tighten a community for the better. Individuals are never simple. Perhaps like Leia, we, too, can take time to foster and extrapolate the interests those close to us might internalize (out of embarrassment or fear), rather than simplifying what these might be as things that have little to no value or use.

In other words, find and extract the value from those around you in ways that highlight unorthodox, perhaps underdog, strengths. The point is simple: don’t condescend. Don’t belittle. Don’t deride. Support. Enthuse. Elevate. People, when asked not to prove one’s worth but to be trusted for it, might later end up flourishing in surprising and inspirational ways.

2. Rebel Leadership

A lot of the time, people will enter into a position of responsibility, thinking that they’re ready to endure it, only to realize that — as they contribute more and more — they no longer have the desire, patience, or energy to regularly deal with the people who don’t want them there.

To be committed to something when others don’t seem to want what you have to give is, admittedly, a very difficult position to be in. Introduce ideas and changes to a group who do not like to be changed (god forbid you’re the young disruptor in a group of senior staffers or vice versa, the bold, ambitious woman in a group of established men or vice versa, or just any minority individual amongst major players), and almost every chance for flaws to be pointed out, others will take, and it often surprises you who will point those out.

Leadership is a trait extracted out of people who opt to keep heading towards the best path forward. People with leader mentalities allow themselves to fail, rest, resume, and continue moving forward. It’s a responsibility that involves pulling the people behind or around you forward, if not outright pushing them ahead. On the other hand, leadership can also mean stepping back entirely and giving people the patience and understanding to move themselves forward, if they do not respond well to being moved.

You won’t always be popular for the choices you present to others, and you might even end up somehow sacrificing a bit of your reputation, but if those choices help smooth the way forward for your group, now or later, then you have to be ok with how you’re progressing. To be shunned, cast aside, or downright trash-talked, and still aim to grow what you have is leader-like, whether or not you’re the most liked person to your team.

Truthfully, too, you don’t even need to be in a position of authority to exemplify its traits for your group. To lead well, you have to relinquish your ego to understand what being a good follower is, too. Whereas those in leadership positions are responsible for seeing and clearing paths ahead, for taking care when those behind/around are struggling, followers push onward in some of the most under-appreciated and challenging ways.

To lead is to serve, as you might have heard before. Both roles have their burdens and both are equally responsible for strengthening the group. The difficulty, for some, is in not fully accepting which role one currently has or not accepting when it’s time to relinquish the duty to someone else. When friction like this occurs, patience, support, and service prove more valuable than exhibiting dominance and authority.

In many group environments, people will look to senior members first or, sometimes, the most vocal or charismatic person for guidance and action plans. Why wouldn’t they? More often than not, a voice and charisma can be credential enough for group trust. It’s a mistake, however, to believe that charisma always leads to the best outcomes, or that a bold voice makes for a wise investment of trust and attention. Sometimes, the perspectives of those who don’t often share a voice — who might have ideas that lie beyond comfort’s borders — prove most beneficial for a team’s growth.

Like in politics, people often support candidates whose values appear to align with community desires (remember smooth-talking Palpatine?). In investing, too, “hot stocks” (usually tech stocks) get the most media buzz and, in turn, the most attention from potential shareholders. In an environment, though, where the majority of peoples’ attention, trust, funding, loyalties, etc. are directed towards the comfort of the most common voices, it’s the minority individuals — rebels, if I may — that will more likely extend the boundaries of where groups find it uncomfortable to go. The challenge — as exemplified by Leia throughout two wars (the Empire and First Order) — is in accepting and navigating through the lack of support one might get as a minor player in a big arena.

3. To Love Anyway

In a more intimate (but powerful) example, in Leia’s final moments during the events of The Rise of Skywalker, we see that she attempts one last projection of energy, one final connection through the Force, to reach her son Ben Solo/Kylo Ren from across the galaxy, before finally succumbing from the effort. She summons all her will to seemingly get through only the whisper of his name, “Ben”. Despite being in the middle of a battle with Rey, it’s enough to stop him in his tracks and listen (funny enough, he stops and turns like a boy in trouble, hearing his mother call from behind).

Though not explicitly stated in the film, I like to believe that this effort was not just for Leia to speak to Ben herself, but an effort to conjure the vision of his father for him, to help Ben confront probably his most painful memory. He’s still deeply haunted by having purposely killed Han and likely feels there’s only damnation reserved for him at that point, but Leia the mother (in my interpretation, at least) would not accept that for her only child.

In this moment, both characters have accepted that neither can change past events, but instead of showing herself here — instead of dismissing Ben for what he’s become and alienating him further — Leia communicates and connects to Ben through a final vision of his father, loving and forgiving, despite his fate — as they both have always tried to be for their child. It’s another opportunity for Ben, even if only through a memory, to forgive himself and learn to truly move forward and let his past die.

I like to think this sequence of events is a masterful example of what patient and compassionate leadership (and motherhood, for that matter) can look like at its most quietly powerful: to willingly remove yourself from the sight of solution in order for those you care about, for those tasked with action, to make it real.

This is also a message for those who struggle to relinquish control: present the path(s) forward for your team, but trust them to walk it together. If you’re in a leadership position already, remember that you shouldn’t be doing everything yourself. Check in with each person and make sure no one dominant personality takes advantage of your quieter team members, but also trust that the group as a whole is ready to fulfill goals. They’ll be prouder of their work and you’ll be proud of supporting them.

We know Leia’s set everything up for the Resistance after she’s gone:

• She appointed a successor in Poe.
• She had a team with a set of skills that would lead people out of the terror of the First Order.
• She got to see her brother Luke one more time (during The Last Jedi) and, despite his previous disappearing act and history as Ben’s Jedi teacher, meets him with the most touching moment of kindness and humor before parting ways again.
• She even used what knowledge of the Force she’d gained from Luke to not only train the Jedi prospect Rey (an adopted child, too, much like herself), but to also take her in as an integral and beloved member of the Resistance family, despite knowing where she came from.

In Leia’s last moments, we see her clutching Han’s old medallion during her attempt to reach Ben which, I think, is enough of a hint to suggest her connection to Ben’s redeeming vision. Leia the leader sets her people up for success, then steps aside in order for them to achieve it. Fictional as she is, this is a character who, I think, exemplifies exactly what it means to be worthy of leadership.

4. Those Who Come After

Now, we don’t have to sacrifice ourselves in order to do good for others, but to help people, you have to serve them in some way. Leia might not be the flashiest character with action-heavy lightsaber scenes, but she was smart enough (and tough enough) to navigate through uncertainty for the people that followed behind her. She gave others as clear a vision as she could conjure for them to continue pushing onward, even without her, displaying time and again ideal traits of leadership.

When Leia led the Rebellion, she was a young girl with responsibilities as a princess and diplomat. When she led the New Republic, she was a general with the responsibilities of keeping her people hopeful for the future. When it came time to relinquish her role, she ensured her people were positioned to continue on, before quietly focusing all she had left to her most conflicted challenge — her son — and presenting him with the sight of a solution he likely most needed to resolve his own conflicts:

…connection.