Melissa Schwartz

If I had to attribute my success to one thing, it would be investing in people.

Every meaningful opportunity in my career has been shaped by mentors, colleagues, and extraordinary women who challenged my thinking, shared hard-earned wisdom, and expected me to grow into bigger leadership roles. I stand on the shoulders of supervisors who were generous with their expertise and candid with their feedback, and I've tried to build my own teams the same way.

Those experiences also shaped how I lead. I believe the strongest leaders don't hire people who think like they do — they build teams with complementary expertise, create an environment where people can challenge one another, and trust them to do their best work. That's true whether you're building a communications department, navigating a crisis, or advancing a mission that matters.

That philosophy informs how I work with clients today through Stamina Strategies. Great communications aren't just about finding the right message; they're about helping leaders build organizations where strategy, trust, and talented people reinforce one another. The best outcomes come from collaborative teams that are empowered to solve hard problems together.

Paying that investment forward has become one of the most rewarding parts of my career. I've trained hundreds of executives, advocates, elected officials, and public servants to communicate effectively under pressure, and I've taught undergraduate and graduate students for nearly a decade. Helping others find their voice, build confidence, and lead through complexity is as meaningful to me as any professional accomplishment. In the end, success isn't measured only by what you achieve yourself, but by the people you help prepare to lead after you're gone.

The best career advice I ever received was simple: don't be afraid to make a recommendation.

Early in my career, I realized that many talented people hesitate to offer their leaders recommendations because they're afraid of being wrong. But leaders don't need advisors who merely present options, they need people who are willing to assess the facts, weigh the risks, and recommend a path forward. Sometimes your recommendation is accepted. Sometimes it isn't. Either way, you've done your job.

That advice has shaped both my career and my leadership style. Whether I'm advising a CEO, an elected official, or a nonprofit leader, I believe my responsibility is to provide candid, thoughtful counsel, even when the conversation is difficult. The most effective leaders I've worked with aren't looking for people who always agree with them; they're looking for trusted advisors who will tell them what they need to hear, not just what they want to hear.

I've also learned that vulnerability is a leadership strength. Making a recommendation means accepting that you may not have all the answers, but you're willing to put your judgment on the table. Creating a culture where people can respectfully disagree, challenge assumptions, and contribute their perspectives leads to better decisions, stronger teams, and better outcomes, especially during crises, when there isn't time to improvise and every decision matters.

My advice to young women entering communications is to adopt a "yes, and..." mindset—with curiosity, courage, and discernment.

Some of the most valuable opportunities in my career weren't part of a carefully designed plan. They came from saying yes to assignments that stretched me, exposed me to new industries, or pushed me outside my comfort zone -- and then finding ways to contribute beyond what was expected. Over the past three decades, that mindset has allowed me to build a career that spans government, nonprofit advocacy, law, and strategic consulting, while remaining rooted in communications.

Just as importantly, don't feel pressured to have your entire career mapped out. Every role teaches you something: how organizations make decisions, how policy gets shaped, how people respond under pressure, or how to tell stories that inspire action. Those lessons accumulate in ways you can't always predict.

Remember that your greatest asset isn't having all the answers. It's asking thoughtful questions, listening carefully, and being willing to offer your perspective. The best communicators aren't simply skilled writers or speakers, they're trusted advisors who help leaders navigate complexity with clarity and confidence.

The communications profession is being reshaped by two forces at once: extraordinary technological change and an unprecedented crisis of trust.

Artificial intelligence is already transforming how communicators research, create, and distribute content. Used strategically, AI can make us faster and more effective by handling routine tasks and surfacing insights that would have taken much longer to uncover. But it cannot replace judgment, empathy, strategic thinking, or the ability to understand the human dynamics behind a difficult decision or a complex public conversation. Those skills have become even more valuable.

At the same time, the media landscape has become increasingly fragmented. Organizations can no longer rely on a handful of traditional outlets to reach the audiences that matter most. Leaders must think more broadly about how they build credibility across earned media, digital platforms, newsletters, podcasts, and direct engagement. Success isn't about chasing every new channel, it's about understanding where your audiences are, earning their trust, and communicating with consistency and authenticity.

For me, that's the greatest opportunity in our profession. The communicators who will have the greatest impact aren't the ones who master new technology. They'll be the ones who help leaders navigate uncertainty, build trust, and communicate with clarity when the stakes are highest.

My father taught me that you are who you are when no one is watching. That lesson has guided every stage of my career and remains the value I return to most often.

I've spent my career in government, nonprofit advocacy, and mission-driven organizations where the work is meaningful, but the challenges are real. Priorities shift, personalities clash, and difficult decisions are inevitable. In those moments, I try to come back to a few simple questions: Do I believe in this mission? Am I making a meaningful contribution? Is the work we're doing bigger than the frustration of the moment?

Integrity, for me, isn't about being perfect. It's about acting consistently with your values, treating people with respect, and making decisions you can defend long after the moment has passed. At the end of the day, I answer to myself. If I can look in the mirror and know I acted with integrity, treated others well, and advanced a mission I believe in, then I've been successful.

That perspective has shaped not only the choices I've made throughout my career, but also the kind of leader I strive to be: someone who leads with integrity, builds trust, and helps others do work they can be proud of.