The Age Of Regeneration Has Begun
Can you feel it in the air?
Across industries and communities, people are beginning to understand that sustainability was never the destination. It was a bridge.
The conditions in which we grow up – whether marked by scarcity or abundance – create an invisible architecture that continues to guide how we make decisions and how we lead, especially when leadership is understood in a regenerative sense: as a force that restores, aligns, and serves beyond the self.
I was born in a small Kazakh village, and when I was six years old, my family moved to Russia. I am a descendant of Volga Germans, a community known for endurance and simplicity. My childhood unfolded in a humble two-room wooden house with a black-and-white television and a radio as my only connection to the wider world. Our food came from the garden, our meat and milk from the animals we raised, and most other goods we needed came from the bazaar in the nearest city, about thirty kilometers away. Until I was twelve, I had never stepped inside a supermarket, never tasted McDonald’s.
Life was not easy, yet it was rich in rhythm and resourcefulness. I read voraciously, wandered through nature, and cared for animals. I dreamed of a different life, one I could barely imagine but deeply desired. That opportunity arrived when my family migrated to Europe. Suddenly, everything was new: language, culture, horizons. I felt the weight of my parents’ sacrifices and carried within me a fierce determination to honor them.
School became my stage. I studied with relentless focus, driven not by entitlement but by gratitude and urgency. I wanted to build a better life – not only for myself but also for my family and the children I hoped to have one day. That hunger became a quiet companion. It instilled resilience, sharpened my awareness of resources, and gave me the conviction that opportunities are fragile and must never be taken for granted.
Now I watch my daughter grow up in Europe, surrounded by security, comfort, and choice. At nine, she has never experienced shortage. She has the freedom to explore her interests, to dream without limits, to choose her own path. Yet her relationship to effort feels profoundly different. Where my childhood was shaped by urgency, hers is marked by abundance. The drive that once consumed me is not as present in her.
This difference makes me pause. Does comfort risk softening determination? And more importantly, how do we raise children of privilege to become regenerative leaders – leaders who can face complexity with courage, combine presence with purpose, and act with responsibility rather than complacency?
Research offers a lens on this paradox. Studies in The Leadership Quarterly show that early socioeconomic status continues to shape leadership trajectories decades later, influencing not only who steps into leadership roles but also who advances within them (Barling et al., 2023; Li, Arvey & Song, 2011). Other studies reveal that children from disadvantaged households who go on to excel often carry with them stronger identity motivation and educational drive – traits that fuel resilience in leadership (Yan et al., 2022). Duan et al. (2022) add that family background does not simply affect whether one leads, but how one leads – with transformational behaviors often rooted in early life conditions.
To lead regeneratively is to restore balance, align systems, and nurture cultures of meaning. Such leadership draws strength from the resilience born of constraint and the vision nurtured by access to education and networks. Resilience without perspective risks remaining focused on survival; privilege without empathy risks detachment. Regeneration requires both.
Ivey Business School, for example, emphasizes emotional intelligence as well as strategic foresight. Their insights suggest that leaders who unite empathy with long-term vision are uniquely positioned to create lasting impact.
The most recent PISA results reveal sharp declines in learning outcomes: compared to 2018, average reading scores dropped by ten points and mathematics by nearly fifteen (OECD, PISA 2022). Even in households of privilege, the intrinsic drive to learn and persevere seems to be fading. Children are becoming experts in choice but novices in perseverance.
If regenerative leadership is to be cultivated, education must go beyond academic instruction. It must nurture resilience, emotional intelligence, and systemic awareness. Privilege cannot be mistaken for readiness, nor can hardship alone guarantee leadership capacity. Both need to be translated into values, practices, and mindsets that prepare the next generation for meaningful responsibility.
How, then, can we raise children who will grow into regenerative leaders? Several principles stand out:
In 2024, after facing job loss, financial strain, and solitude, I was forced to pause. That reset gave birth to The EcoLeader Magazine. It was then I realized that the resilience formed in childhood was not just a personal trait but a leadership resource.
It had always been there – in the fields of my childhood, in the nights I studied while others rested, in the determination to keep going despite setbacks. I understood that leadership is not about a title but about restoration: of trust, of culture, and of meaning.
The essential task is to weave the lessons of both scarcity and abundance into the upbringing of a new generation. Resilience and responsibility, roots and wings – together they form the soil in which regenerative leadership can grow.
As I watch my daughter, I hope she will carry not only the gifts of her environment but also the courage to persist when challenges arrive. She does not need to repeat my path, but she must find her own rhythm of purpose and care.
Regenerative leadership does not depend on where we start. It grows from how we transform our origins into strength, and how that strength is placed in service of others.