Lakesha Pickering

I attribute much of my success to the remarkable support network surrounding me—most especially my husband, David. His emotional and practical support has given me room to grow, take risks, change direction, and pursue opportunities without feeling that I have to carry everything alone. Being the mother of two children with unique needs has also profoundly shaped how I see and lead. They trained me to look beyond the center, notice the people on the periphery, and question whether the needs and experiences of those most easily overlooked are being considered. They have made me more observant, patient, persistent, and attentive to the human consequences of decisions.

I also credit the mentors who recognized and challenged my leadership capacity and the young people who keep me accountable to the generations coming behind me. Whatever abilities I brought to the journey have been developed and sustained through relationships. None of what I have accomplished belongs to me alone.

The best career advice I have received is to trust my voice and recognize that I belong in every room I have worked to enter. Earlier in my career, I sometimes allowed intimidation to make me question whether my perspective was valuable, particularly when others had more experience, seniority, or credentials. My mentors taught me that I did not need permission or to wait until I felt completely unafraid to contribute. I could respect what others brought to the room without diminishing what my own preparation and experiences allowed me to see. I learned that getting into the room is not the finish line.

I was taught not to shrink in the room; at the same time, I learned not to let the room shrink my view of the people outside it. So I would tell young women entering international relations that once you gain access or authority, pay attention to who remains outside, stay connected to the people who will experience the consequences of your decisions, and use your influence to build capacity in others. A position may increase the number of people you can affect, but it can also create distance from them. Protect the reason you entered the work, and never allow people to become merely numbers on the way to achieving an outcome.

One of the greatest challenges in international affairs is that the institutions making decisions for the world still do not fully reflect the people affected by those decisions. Increased representation of women and leaders from the Global South creates an opportunity to broaden which experiences, priorities, and forms of knowledge shape global policy. Representation alone is not enough, however; inclusion must come with meaningful influence.

Human dignity is the value at the heart of everything I do. It begins with listening to people’s stories and refusing to reduce them to the categories, statistics, or outcomes used to describe them. It shapes my belief that leadership is stewardship: neither authority nor the world belongs to us simply because it has been placed in our hands. We are responsible for how we use our influence and for what we preserve for those who come after us.

That is also how I answer the question of whether leaders are made or born. Leadership may begin as a spark, but the spark is not enough. It must be breathed into by people who recognize its potential and tended responsibly by the person carrying it. Ultimately, leadership is revealed in the trust people place in you—and whether your actions continue to justify that trust.