
I used to think “leadership” at uni was for the sort of people who love committee meetings, keep immaculate to-do lists, and somehow remember everyone’s name without checking their notes.
Then I got involved at York and learned the truth: student leadership is mostly you volunteering to be mildly uncomfortable in public, repeatedly, until it stops being terrifying and starts being normal. The best thing about these opportunities is realising how they all connect.
If you want the leadership route nobody explains, here it is in one line:
Say yes to something that makes you a bit nervous, then keep showing up until you get better.
I sit in three spaces that look different on paper but feel connected in real life:
-
Department Rep (Education): the everyday leadership, representing students and translating chaos into something useful.
-
SUmmit: the Union’s political body, where you learn how decisions get made and how accountability works.
-
NightSafe: volunteering on nights out, where leadership stops being a LinkedIn word and becomes “can you keep your head and help someone safely?”
Each one has taught me the same lesson in a different accent: growth happens right after the moment you’d rather vanish into the wallpaper.
Leadership starts when you stop trying to look cool
The first time you speak up in a meeting as a rep, you don’t feel like a leader. You feel like a student who has decided to risk being perceived.
You’ve got that internal monologue going full volume:
-
“Is this a stupid point?”
-
“What if I’ve misunderstood?”
-
“Why is my voice doing that thing?”
And then you say it anyway. That’s the leadership bit. Not the confidence. The decision to contribute even when you feel under-qualified.
Rep work taught me that a lot of “leadership” is actually translation. Students give you feedback in raw form: frustrated, vague, emotional, sometimes contradictory. Your job is to turn that into something staff can act on, without losing the heart of it.
That means learning to:
-
ask better questions without sounding like a robot
-
spot patterns across different people’s experiences
-
write things down properly (painful, but necessary)
-
follow up and close the loop so students know they weren’t ignored
It’s not glamorous. It’s honest work. And it’s where you build the foundation: the habit of being reliable.
Imposter Syndrome: Sponsored by Meeting Agendas
Nothing activates imposter syndrome faster than an agenda titled “Item 4: Policy amendments” as if I’ve been amending policy since Year 7.
SUmmit: where you learn to disagree like an adult
SUmmit is where I learned a very specific leadership skill: how to challenge something without turning into That Person.
It’s the Union’s political body, so you’re dealing with policy submissions, topical issues, and updates from Sabbatical Officers. This is not a vibe-based setting. People want clarity: what’s the problem, what’s the proposed change, what happens next.
At first, it feels like walking into a room where everyone knows the rules except you. You learn them fast.
Leadership here is:
-
reading properly, not just skimming
-
asking questions that are fair but firm
-
amending ideas instead of just criticising them
-
keeping the focus on impact, not ego
And here’s the funny part: the “politics” isn’t the scary thing. The scary thing is speaking when you’re not 100 per cent sure you’re right. SUmmit trains you to do it anyway, because real decision-making never waits for perfect certainty. You learn to be thoughtful, not timid.

SUmmit has: When You Realise “Student Voice” Needs Subtitles
I’ve learned to translate between three languages: student frustration, committee-speak, and ‘what can realistically happen by next week
NightSafe: leadership with a hi-vis and no script
NightSafe is where discomfort becomes practical.
You’re out in the city centre, working in small teams, wearing hi-vis, using radios, liaising with venue staff, security, and sometimes emergency services. You train for it: first aid, active listening, conflict management, safeguarding, river safety, homelessness awareness. There’s a DBS check too, which keeps things grounded: this role matters.
NightSafe has taught me the leadership skill everyone claims they have and few people practise: staying calm when something is going sideways.
There’s no script. You’re making judgement calls in real time. You’re balancing compassion with boundaries. You’re supporting someone who might be upset, intoxicated, scared, or simply overwhelmed. Your ego is irrelevant. Your tone matters. Your decisions matter.
And honestly, it changes you. After you’ve handled a tricky situation on a night shift, a seminar presentation feels… manageable. Still unpleasant, but manageable.
The “Teamwork is Real” Moment
On shift, you learn to communicate properly. Not dramatic speeches, just clear, quick check-ins, with a mix of fun and responsibility. Leadership becomes less about being the hero and more about being useful.
The secret curriculum: discomfort is the entry fee
Here’s what ties all of this together.
Leadership isn’t a personality trait you either have or don’t have. It’s a set of behaviours you practise, usually in moments where you’d prefer to opt out.
At York, the leadership route is basically a series of small discomforts that level you up:
-
asking the question you’re worried is obvious
-
turning up to a meeting where you know nobody
-
saying “I don’t think that works” politely, with reasons
-
taking responsibility for following through
-
learning to be calm when someone else can’t be
And each time you do one of those, your confidence shifts slightly. Not into arrogance, just into competence.
“But what do I actually gain from this?”
From a leadership and employability standpoint, I’ve gained three big things.
1) Real confidence (the quiet kind)
Not “I’m amazing” confidence. More like “I can handle this” confidence.
2) A working understanding of systems
You start seeing how change actually happens: where student voice goes, how policy gets made, and why some issues take time.
3) Transferable skills that employers recognise immediately
Communication, accountability, teamwork under pressure, safeguarding awareness, stakeholder thinking, reliability. These are not fluffy skills. They are the basics of doing any serious job well.
If you want to start, start here
Pick one role that makes you slightly uncomfortable, but not unsafe or miserable.
Say yes. Show up. Be awkward. Learn the rhythm. Get better.
Because the funniest thing about leadership is that it often begins as a series of “oh no” moments. Then, one day, you realise you’re the person helping someone else through their “oh no” moment.
That’s the route. That’s the growth. And it’s available to far more people than the confident ones.

Leave a Reply