• Letter from the Board • From the Field • Leadership Lessons from Julius

The following is an expanded version of a piece written by Henry DeSio MPA 2001 for the print version of the summer 2006 Bulletin.

Leadership Lessons I Learned From Julius

By Henry DeSio MPA 2001

“I’m thinking of you.”

Those four words flashed onto my screen as I clicked into Julius’ note to me. My response was equally short.

“Me too. Let’s talk soon.”

Though brief, the e-mail assured me that my friend, classmate, and successor in the Alumni Programs Office, Julius Babbitt, was doing okay. Despite the long odds, Julius had me believing that he could beat his cancer. He had a way of making things happen. As I reflect on his life and his legacy, I am left with a sense of loss and sadness. But I am also left with his example for leading a principled life that I will carry always. After much deliberation about how to fill this space with remembrances of Julius, I have settled on some leadership lessons that I learned from him — lessons that embody the Kennedy School’s true spirit.

Find Common Ground Julius had a knack for finding common ground in a crowd. He left no one behind. As students, Julius grew concerned at any indication that the class might split when an evening’s activity was being planned. He did everything he could to keep us all together and if he couldn’t, he made sure there was a plan to meet up later. This same principle of bringing everyone together was evident in his professional work. I saw it clearly as he pulled together a committee to rebuild our New England Alumni Association (KSGne) after he graduated. Julius succeeded by recruiting others around a shared vision. He then focused the work to areas where there was unity of purpose, entrusting people to take a role and to execute that role. Most importantly, he kept it simple by doing a few things really well and building the confidence of his intended audience. KSGne became the model around which the school’s Alumni Council Program was built globally. Today, we have associations throughout the world, which have all been somehow influenced by Julius’ work in Boston.

Back Your Ideas Up With Action “We have to do this!” Julius scowled. At the time, I was alumni director and my former classmate had me cornered in a hallway near the Charles Hotel, pushing his new idea to create a class fund to provide student scholarships. Julius believed that the school, having hit lean times after 9/11, needed alumni to step up and that our class should set the example. I knew his idea would be met with some skepticism as no class had before pulled off such a feat. But Julius was more than an idea man. He was also a man of action. He formed a committee and in just two months, we raised the $13,000 seed money we needed to start the class’ Millennium Fund. In our first year, we raised enough money for two scholarships and we had the highest participation rate of any non-reunion year class effort. More importantly, Julius proved that investment breeds engagement.

Look Within One could point to Julius and make the case that leaders are born. He was such a natural with his commanding voice, his beaming smile, and his clear eyes that communicated rare confidence. But Julius worked at his leadership. For him leadership began from within. He always strove to do better — to be better. He not only welcomed feedback, he actually asked for it. We were involved in many alumni and class projects together and I was always taken aback when he would probe pointedly, “How do you think I’m doing?” It was never from a place of insecurity; in fact, it was from a place of great confidence. It takes courage to ask others what they think of you. Julius checked in often this way because he relied on feedback, whether it was to elevate his work performance or the quality of his friendships.

Celebrate Small Moments Julius touched people very personally. Even casual friends had intense interactions with Julius. Our classmate, Dorothy, recalls that she and Julius were friendly in school, but not particularly close. Yet when they were the only two to show up for an attempted class gathering the year after we graduated, Dorothy says the result could have been disappointing. Instead, she was treated to a side of Boston — and of Julius — that she could never have otherwise experienced. This included a walk across “very thin ice” at the Frog Pond and visits to little-known landmarks that went late into the night. That’s because Julius showed up fully for every moment. And he carried this attitude into his work, as well. As an alumni leader, he was very serious about building our community, but he ALWAYS made sure we built in playtime. Whether that meant scheduling a special meeting over martini’s at the Omni Hotel, or throwing a holiday party with co-leaders, Julius got work done and he got fun done.

Rise To Big Moments Julius was a natural choice to become the director of Alumni Programs in 2005. He loved Harvard. He loved the Kennedy School. He believed deeply in the school’s mission and the impact each of our alumni could have on the world. That was obvious from the day he introduced himself to our class during Sue Williamson’s 20 seconds of fame. I don’t remember anyone else’s introduction. I remember Julius.’ He bounced around on the stage like Tigger shouting: “I can’t believe I’m here. I’m finally here! We’re going to have such a great year!” You just knew there was something special about Julius. A man of accomplishment, he didn’t talk about his past deeds. Instead, he talked about “we.” He rose to that moment and set a tone that would shape our journey together. 

It is a journey that continues. Julius’ untimely passing leaves a great void — within the hearts of those who knew him, within our class, and within the Kennedy School community — that won’t soon be filled. But his imprint is lasting. This past year, during his illness, a little committee had organized itself around Julius, mostly led by classmates Lynn Lyman, David Rice, Daniel Sanks, and Melodie Jackson. They had unity of purpose: Julius’ health. They carved out roles for themselves, including liaising with hospital staff, researching his illness, and communicating with friends. And then Julius demonstrated his most brilliant leadership quality: He let go so others could lead. Just as he had done so naturally in the past, he placed his faith in those around him. And as he rose to his biggest moment, so did those who were closest to him.

Days after I got my message from Julius, he was admitted into the hospital for the last time. He and I never had that phone call.

Julius, I’m thinking of you. We are all thinking of you.