Earlier this month, I found myself back in Louisiana, drawn by the familiar sights—and the even more familiar faces. What began as a simple trip became something deeper, rich with the strength of friendship and the depth of shared history.
One afternoon over lunch, I gathered with four women, each of whom I had the honor of working alongside for over a decade through the leadership development work of ICC. These are the kinds of friends whose stories I know by heart, whose growth I’ve witnessed firsthand, and whose leadership has rippled outward through their students’ lives and communities.
Jane sat near me, speaking candidly about her newest challenge: navigating a newly adopted learning management system. It was an added layer to her already significant role as Director of Student Leadership, a territory that former leaders in her position had never needed to map.
Seated right beside her was Keri, once a dynamic presence within the ICC, until life shifted. An emergency with a parent required her full attention, and she stepped away from her role to become a caregiver. Her voice was soft, honest, steady, and filled with longing as she spoke. “Things have evened out now,” Keri said. “I find myself with long hours at home. I miss the purposeful work.”
I looked across the table at these two women—strong, seasoned, and competent. Their lives had intersected in the past, yet here they were, side by side, not seeing the bridge that could connect them again.
So I asked.
“Keri, would you consider helping Jane with the new system?”
She sat up straight. “Yes!”
Jane, who hadn’t heard our exchange, turned when I said, “Jane, look—Keri’s available to help you.”
And just like that, a new connection sparked—simple, unexpected, and rich with possibility.
There they were, at the same table, with something to give and something to receive. Sometimes, it just takes someone from the other side of the table to notice the connection waiting to be made, but when we see it and speak it out loud, something beautiful begins to unfold.