Karina Salinas

I was thirteen years old the first time I heard English — surrounded by people I could not yet speak with. That year studying at a U.S. school was difficult, but it was full of lessons and began to shape my character. Fast forward fourteen years: after a solid professional career in Mexico, I made the defining leap to leave my home country and relocate to the U.S. with my husband and our six-month-old daughter — no support system, just a suitcase full of dreams. I was a young Latina, far from home, surrounded by unfamiliar customs and expectations. What I did not know then is that those two moments of profound discomfort would become the foundation of everything I would build.

Today, I am a senior operations and supply chain executive with nearly 30 years of experience across Aerospace & Defense, Automotive, and Manufacturing — industries not historically known for welcoming women, let alone Latinas. I have led enterprise-wide lean transformations across more than 200 sites around the world, driven improvement and productivity programs impacting more than 16,000 employees, and delivered measurable results for Fortune 500 companies by improving people, processes, and performance. I am a first-generation college graduate, married for 25 years, and the proud mother of two. None of that happened because the path was clear. It happened because I kept walking anyway.

The Weight of a Statistic — and the Power to Defy It

Here is a number that stopped me the first time I read it: Latinas represent just 1% of C-suite executives across Fortune 500 companies. Only three Latinas in history have ever served as CEO, and only 1.6% of senior executive roles in S&P 100 companies are held by Hispanic women. And yet, Latinos comprise 20% of the U.S. population and contribute $2.6 trillion to the American economy.

I am not a statistic. But I know exactly what it feels like to be treated like one.

When I walked into my first leadership role — a woman, a Latina, an immigrant who did not speak English until age thirteen — I was already, by every metric, an outlier. The rooms were mostly male. The culture was unfamiliar. The unspoken message was clear: people like you are not usually here.

I stayed anyway. And I want every Latina reading this to know: those numbers are not your ceiling. They are your calling.

Get Comfortable Being Uncomfortable

Growth does not live inside your comfort zone. It lives just past the edge of it.

When I walked into rooms where I was the only woman, the only Latina, the only person with an accent — I had a choice. I could shrink, or I could thrive. I thrived. Not because I was not afraid, but because I decided that discomfort was not a signal to retreat. It was a signal that I was exactly where I needed to be.

Seek out the moments that stretch you. For me, that meant leading cross-functional teams through complex transformations, taking on the challenges no one else wanted but that were critical to the business, presenting ideas to CEOs and senior leadership, and speaking up when my instinct told me something different than the room. Those were the moments that built me. Prepare yourself relentlessly. Do the work. Study the craft. But then take the risk — because preparation without courage is just readiness that never gets used.

Your Difference Is Your Strength

For a long time, I believed my perspective was a liability — that being a woman, a Latina, an outsider to the dominant culture of the rooms I was entering meant that my voice carried less weight. I was wrong, and learning that changed everything.

It was precisely because I had navigated foreign environments, bridged language and cultural gaps, and been the person in the room who thought differently, that I could see what others could not. I brought ideas that had not been considered. I asked questions that had not been asked. I connected with people that others had overlooked. My "minority" experience was not a weakness. It was a unique lens — and that lens created value.

Whatever makes you feel out of place right now may be exactly what makes you irreplaceable. Don't assimilate away from it. Lead with it.

Be the Leader You Once Needed

Think about the people you have admired most in your life. The mentor who made you feel seen. The leader who created space for you to speak. The colleague who stood in the gap when you were not sure you could. Now ask yourself: am I being that for someone else?

Because I once felt invisible, I became someone who makes others feel visible. Because I once did not have a voice, I built platforms for others to use theirs. Because I once walked into rooms where I did not belong, I began designing rooms where everyone does.

This is not just a philosophy — it showed up in my work. Across every organization I have led, I prioritized psychological safety, inclusive idea generation, and environments where the quietest and more introverted voices were the ones I worked hardest to amplify. The result? Employee engagement climbed. Team confidence grew. And the business results followed — because people do their best work when they know they matter.

Make Room

Leadership is not a finite resource. Your growth does not diminish someone else's, and someone else's rise does not threaten yours. The most powerful thing you can do as you ascend is reach back.

Make room at the table. Sponsor the person who reminds you of yourself fifteen years ago. Give the person in the back of the room the floor. Advocate loudly for people who have not yet learned to advocate for themselves. Help them find their voice — because someone, somewhere, helped you find yours.

When my organizational announcement as Executive Director of Operational Excellence and Manufacturing Engineering was sent, I received an email from an engineer with Mexican roots who, after congratulating me, said it was inspiring to know that could be her one day. In that moment, I realized I was making the path visible to others.

No One Succeeds Alone

I would be remiss not to acknowledge what I know to be true: none of this was accomplished alone. I am deeply grateful to God for the strength, clarity, and purpose that have guided my path — especially in the moments when the road ahead was unclear.

I am grateful for the mentors who saw potential in me before I could fully see it in myself, who opened doors, shared wisdom, and challenged me to reach further. For the family members who sacrificed, believed, and cheered from the sidelines — and sometimes from the front row. For the friends who became family along the way, who offered encouragement, honesty, and unwavering support through every season.

And for the peers and colleagues who walked alongside me — who collaborated, pushed back, inspired, and grew with me. Success is rarely a solo journey. It is built in relationship, in community, and in the generous spirit of those who invest in others without keeping score.

Surround yourself with people who believe in your potential — and then become that person for someone else.

A Final Word

I did not arrive in this country with connections, a support system, or a blueprint. I arrived with curiosity, grit, resilience, and an unshakable belief that my perspective — even when it felt like an obstacle — was worth something.

It was. Yours is too. Find your voice. Use it loudly. And then help someone else find theirs.

About the Author

Karina Salinas is a senior operations and supply chain executive with nearly 30 years of experience in Aerospace & Defense, Automotive, and Manufacturing. Born in Mexico and based in Florida, she is a first-generation college graduate, married for 25 years, and the mother of two. She is a passionate advocate for inclusive leadership, continuous improvement, and creating platforms where every voice is heard.