What I Know Now: Leadership Lessons from the Association Arena

AS INCOMING BOARD chair, I cannot address members of the Texas Society of Association Executives without acknowledging the recent floods that devastated multiple Texas communities. As a leader, a mother, and a Texan, my heart is with those who have lost so much. When Texas hurts, we hurt – and it seems we all know someone affected.

This tragedy has also shown the resilient and inspiring response of Texans as thousands raised their hand to say, “I’m here to help.” These were first responders, strangers-turned-volunteers, major sports teams who donated millions, churches and food pantries, businesses (small and large) that organized matching donations, and more. Texans showed, once again, we are here for each other. I’m proud to be part of this Texas community.

I’m also proud to be the first Latina to hold the position of board chair in this organization’s history. But I won’t lie – that’s quite heavy. And with that weight comes a familiar inner voice: “Don’t break anything. If you do, it will reflect badly on the next Latinx leader.”

But you know what comes immediately after that? A different voice, saying: “Break everything that isn’t inclusive or doesn’t invite belonging.”

Such is the dilemma of those of us who straddle two realities – culture and success. Often, we’re walking an invisible tightrope balancing pride and care. We are forging a path for ourselves in a new space while simultaneously widening it and ensuring it remains traversable for others who follow.

I’ve been blessed with many professional privileges in my life, from my early career as Chief Financial Officer at the El Paso Chamber of Commerce to my 17 years as CEO of the Texas Council on Family Violence (TCFV), one of the largest coalitions of domestic violence providers in the country. I’ve addressed Congress. I’ve testified at the Texas Legislature. I’ve spoken at the Texas Supreme Court. Never did I imagine that this “little Mexican” from El Paso, born of migrant farm workers, would one day be entrusted with such esteemed audiences. My parents dreamed of a better life, not just for us, but for those who would come after. I know they smile brightly from the heavens above knowing they helped chart a new course.

In nearly every aspect of my career (and even my life), I see lessons that mirror the association world. At their core, associations are about something bigger than ourselves, and in so many instances, association leaders are the first to step forward and drive change. So, it begs the question, what does leadership of an association look like?

Values Above Knowledge

I used to believe that leadership meant perfection, and perfection happened when you were fully prepared. I would rehearse every presentation, try to memorize every data point, and (over)prepare for every meeting. I feared that not knowing something would expose me as unworthy of my role.

What I know now is that leadership isn’t about being flawless; it’s about being faithful to your values. Most people don’t expect perfection. They expect your dedicated presence and your words and actions to match up. They want a leader who is willing to say, “I don’t know, but I will learn.” Or better yet, a leader who asks, “What do you think?”

As association leaders, we are responsible for navigating complex, often shifting environments. People are counting on us. Believe me, I think about that all the time as I lead my incredible team at TCFV. In Texas alone, more than 200 Texans are killed by domestic violence every year. Additionally, every domestic violence provider in Texas (there are over a hundred) has staff and leadership that is looking to TCFV for guidance. So, I know the weight of an association’s dependence.

But we don’t have to do it alone. The strength of this community lies in its collaborative spirit. We learn together, grow together, and adapt together.

Some of my most impactful moments as a leader have come not from providing direction, but from making space for others’ insights. The shift I experienced when I let go of my obsession with certainty and made room for professional curiosity has been transformational, humbling, and above all – it has directly contributed to my organization’s success at large.

Kindness is Not a Weakness

“Toughen up!”

I know I’m not the only professional who has heard that before, but that was the advice I received from a mentor. It was meant supportively, and I embraced the idea and tried to anchor myself with it for years. In rooms where business rules, being compassionate was perceived as a liability. I’ve since discarded this outdated notion.

Kindness is not the opposite of accountability. In fact, kindness is what allows accountability to take root. It creates a culture of trust and safety – the very conditions that allow people to take risks, stretch their talents, and grow.

In association leadership, we serve our staff, our members, our Board, and our communities. That service must be rooted in humanity. Compassion is not a weakness. It is an ethic. Let that be a strategy that fosters inclusion, sustainability, and long-term success.

This may sound stereotypical coming from someone who leads a team of social justice advocates. Naturally, compassion is woven into the fabric of our work – we walk alongside individuals fleeing unimaginable violence. But don’t dismiss this principle simply because your office feels less emotionally charged. I am steadfast in my belief: kindness belongs in every workplace, and it can have a drastically positive (and infectious) effect.

Leading with kindness doesn’t mean avoiding hard decisions. It means delivering them with clarity, respect, and empathy. It means remembering that everyone is carrying something we cannot see. And it means choosing to lead in ways that honor the whole person.

There Is No Finish Line

Can we all agree that association life doesn’t slow down? There’s always a summit, a session, a crisis, or a strategy that needs planning. I used to believe that balance was something I could achieve once I cleared my inbox or finished a project. I know now it doesn’t work that way.

Balance is not a destination. It’s a rhythm. There are seasons of stretch and seasons of restoration. There are moments when you give fully to the work and moments when you must give fully to yourself and your loved ones. I have learned (sometimes the hard way) that protecting space for family, for faith, and for rest isn’t selfish; it’s wise. I missed precious family moments that I’ll never recapture.

What sustains me now isn’t more efficiencies, but alignment. Alignment on our purpose and vision – why we are here. Alignment with my people – what makes them want to continue pushing forward. Alignment on practices – what is nourishing my team instead of depleting them. When I lead from that place, I’m not only more effective, I am whole.

But I have never considered my role as a leader complete. Leadership is a practice, and I remain a student, as should we all.

My most recent lesson? I’m currently learning how to navigate the implications of artificial intelligence in the sector of public safety. I’m listening closely to the next generation of leaders who are demanding more equitable systems for survivors of violence. I’m working to balance legacy with innovation, and I’m still figuring out how to leave room for both.

If I’m striving to be a leader that continues evolving, then I’m happy with my journey. We are all a work in progress. Embrace that.

A Sense of Belonging

If you are just beginning your leadership journey or are somewhere in the messy middle, I hope you know you don’t have to perform your way to belonging. You don’t have to know everything. You don’t have to eliminate emotions entirely. You don’t have to race to a finish line.

There is room for you in leadership, regardless of a title. Claim it with courage and offer it with care.