The Leader I Choose To Be | Leadership with Integrity

Shortly after my dad died,

I stood in front of a packed room, composed, steady, and leading.

Everyone knew I was grieving.

But no one saw the tears I’d cried in the car, because of a private loss that had quietly ripped my soul open.

I was grieving the man who raised me,

and processing truths that shattered me to my core.

But I showed up.

Prepared. Composed. Ready.

Not because I was expected to, but because I was taught to.

My family ran a business for over a hundred years.

I grew up stocking shelves, bagging ice, and watching people place their trust in us, generation after generation.

Over time, I began to understand why that trust endured.

It wasn’t flash. It wasn’t perfection.

It was consistency. Quiet reliability.

Doing the right thing, even when it was inconvenient.

And what I learned was this:

Consistency with integrity builds trust.

Not once. Not occasionally. But every day, in the way you speak, act, and follow through, especially when no one’s watching.

That lesson became my compass, especially in the moments no one sees.

When things are quiet but still relentless.

Like showing up to a Monday night borough assembly meeting that stretches to 10:30 p.m. because I said I would.

Most people think leadership is proven in the big moments,

but I’ve found the opposite to be true.

It’s proven in the quiet ones.

The Tuesday morning meeting when you’re exhausted but prepared.

The hard call you make knowing there was no right answer.

The hours spent on the phone with staff and attorneys while your dad is dying.

Because it’s leading through the everyday that builds the trust people rely on in times of instability or loss.

When the ground beneath them shifts, they look to the ones who have stood steady all along.

Not the loudest. Not the flashiest.

But the ones who stay clear, grounded, and real, day after day.

I know not everyone agrees with how I lead, or the decisions I make.

There are people out there collecting signatures for my recall.

And still, I keep showing up, grounded in the same values I was raised with: consistency, service, and integrity, especially when it’s hard.

Strong leadership isn’t easy. It’s impactful.

It demands more than most people see, and gives back in ways that often go unspoken.

It doesn’t always come back as praise. It echoes.

Someone is finding the courage to speak up because you modeled what it means to use your voice.

Someone is learning to lead with empathy because you showed them strength doesn’t have to be loud.

Someone is beginning to believe in themselves because you believed in them first.

And the ripple doesn’t stop there.

They carry that safety into their work.

They bring it home to their families.

They extend it into their communities.

This is the quiet revolution of real leadership:

Better workplaces. More grounded families. Stronger communities.

This is the kind of leadership I believe in.

Steady. Consistent. Prepared. Adaptive.

Rooted in integrity and focused on solving problems for the benefit of many,

not the comfort of a few.

Because my north star has always been service to community.

To show up, tell the truth, and do the work, even when it's hard, even when it’s unseen.

The best leaders aren’t perfect. They’re human, honest about their limits, but anchored in integrity anyway.

They lead not from performance, but from principle.

Because leadership isn’t about being in charge.

It’s about being of service.

And doing it consistently, even when no one’s clapping.

That’s what my family taught me.

That’s how I choose to lead.

And I am human.