Here is a little bit more about me.

I was born the oldest of four kids in the Chicagoland area, which meant I've been unofficially coaching since I could walk. When you're responsible for three younger siblings, you learn early how to guide, support, and bring out the best in others—even when you're naturally shy.

That shyness might surprise people who know me now, but it's been one of my greatest teachers. Growing up in an extroverted family, I learned to observe first, listen deeply, and find the humor and irony in ordinary human situations. My engineer father gifted me a logical, process-oriented brain, while my natural curiosity drove me to understand not just what people did, but why and how they did it.

The Power of Different Perspectives

In fifth grade, I discovered reading—and it changed everything. Judy Blume opened my eyes to the complexity of human relationships, while A Wrinkle in Time taught me how to imagine and dream beyond what seemed possible. When my middle school French teacher mentioned that Americans were really the only people in the world who spoke just one language, I thought that was nuts. A dream was born to learn how to communicate across cultures.

This led me to Gabriel García Márquez, whose 100 Years of Solitude and Love in the Time of Cholera introduced me to the passion, complexity, and resilience of Latino culture. But it was a Women's Circle, led by four wise women who had worked with Archbishop Desmond Tutu in South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission and with Otto Scharmer and Peter Senge—the "OGs" of organizational development—that truly changed my perspective on leadership.

I learned how to listen, really listen, and take in the fullness of different perspectives and life experiences. I discovered that true leadership isn't about having all the answers—it's about creating space for others to find their voice.

Learning to Lead Differently

In 2000, I took a sabbatical to live and work in Quito, Ecuador. Living in the Andes when 9/11 happened, I had to learn how to communicate in an entirely different way. Latinos aren't as direct as Americans. They don't use "top-down" messaging. There's a beautiful way people relate called "charlar"—they chat, build connection, and only then, when there's relatedness, does the main message come.

No one could "hear" me until I figured this out.

I fell in love with how relationship-building is woven into communication and culture. I experienced prejudice for the first time and learned how my "U.S.-centric lens" limited what I could see. I had to become flexible in my thinking, adaptable in my approach, and humble about what I didn't know.

Finding My Voice in Male-Dominated Spaces

When I returned to the States with my Master's degree, I found myself walking into manufacturing plants, clean rooms, and industrial settings where I was often the only woman—and definitely the youngest person—in leadership conversations. The first time I entered a "clean room" where contact lenses were manufactured, I was blown away by the precision and complexity. I needed to understand everything about how this product was made.

But here's what I discovered: my curiosity was my superpower. My ability to listen deeply—honed through years of cross-cultural communication—allowed me to work effectively with subject matter experts, engineers, machine operators, and front-line workers. My "outsider" perspective as a woman in these spaces actually gave me advantages I didn't expect.

I learned that being different wasn't something to overcome—it was something to leverage.

From Shy Observer to Confident Leader

Over 20+ years in development and performance improvement, I've worked with brilliant women in manufacturing, logistics, insurance, and other male-dominated industries. I've seen the same pattern again and again: capable, talented women who have all the technical skills but struggle to step into their leadership power.

They remind me of myself in those early days—full of potential but unsure how to claim their space, make their voice heard, and lead in environments where they're often the only woman in the room.