The Leadership I Inherited
By Dr. Allison S. Jones, DNAP, MSN, CRNA, APRN
I did not inherit leadership from a boardroom.
I inherited it from a woman who could not read.
My great-grandmother, Minnatora, was American Indian. For most of her life, she was illiterate. Access to formal education was limited, and systemic barriers made advancement nearly impossible for women like her. But what she lacked in opportunity, she replaced with determination.
Later in life, she taught herself to read and write.
No formal classroom.
No institutional support.
No applause.
Just resolve.
Education, she believed, could never be taken away from you. She had been denied it, and still she pursued it. Quietly. Persistently. Without permission.
That is the first model of leadership I ever saw.
Leadership is often portrayed as positional authority: a title, a credential, a seat at a table. But in my family, leadership looked different. It looked like discipline when no one was watching. It looked like self-education when systems excluded you. It looked like preparing the next generation for doors that did not yet exist.
Minnatora did not speak the language of executive governance, regulatory frameworks, or healthcare systems design. But she understood something foundational: knowledge creates agency.
Her legacy shaped mine.
As a Certified Registered Nurse Anesthesiologist, healthcare executive, and nurse scientist, I now operate in environments that once would have been inaccessible to women from our lineage: boardrooms, academic institutions, policy conversations, national organizations.
I carry her with me into every one of those spaces.
There is a particular clarity that comes from knowing that your presence in a room is the result of someone else’s sacrifice. It reframes ambition. It removes ego. It sharpens responsibility.
For women aspiring to leadership roles in healthcare, science, business, or policy, understand this: leadership is not about visibility. It is about stewardship of opportunity.
You may be the first in your family to pursue advanced education.
You may be navigating systems not originally designed for you.
You may question whether you belong in rooms where decisions are made.
You do.
But belonging is not the endpoint. Influence is.
My great-grandmother became literate later in life not because it advanced her career, but because it expanded her freedom. That same principle applies today. Advanced education, policy fluency, technological literacy, financial understanding—these are not simply professional advantages. They are instruments of autonomy.
And autonomy is power.
Women from underrepresented backgrounds often learn early how to observe systems carefully. We learn where barriers exist. We learn how risk shifts. We learn how silence operates. Those insights are not disadvantages; they are leadership assets.
The future of healthcare—and every domain that intersects with it—will require leaders who understand complexity and consequence. Leaders who can analyze data but also honor story. Leaders who can sit at decision-making tables and remember the communities who are not present.
That kind of leadership is not loud.
It is anchored.
Minnatora never held a formal title. But she altered the trajectory of generations simply by insisting that knowledge mattered.
Her literacy became my education.
Her resolve became my discipline.
Her ceiling became my starting point.
If you aspire to leadership in your field, do not wait for permission. Do not wait to feel fully ready. Invest in your knowledge. Develop fluency beyond your immediate role. Sit on committees. Volunteer for governance work. Learn how systems operate and how they can be redesigned.
Leadership is not inherited through privilege.
It is inherited through courage.
And sometimes, it begins with a woman teaching herself to read.
Let’s move the work forward.
© ASJ
