“I think we’re all here, at this time, for a reason,” the district attorney told a conference room of executives from various public agencies. “We’re here to provide leadership, together.”

It was three days after the May 23, 2014, tragedy in Isla Vista, a community of 23,000 people adjacent to the University of California at Santa Barbara. A young man with a history of mental health issues killed six students in a short period of time, and then himself, leaving a disturbing and chilling written and video record of his reasons.

Our entire nation experienced the tragedy. That night, the killer ended the lives of six young people and created a deep wound felt by an entire community.

That community was part of unincorporated Santa Barbara County, where I had been the county executive officer for five months and two weeks. I was still learning names of key staff, meeting community members, juggling weekly agenda issues, and preparing for budget hearings, which were only two weeks away, when the tragedy occurred.

In the days and weeks to come, I knew the staff would be inundated. The county sheriff would be at the center, but the rest of the organization would be enmeshed too. We would be managing the onslaught of national media, coordinating responses, working with partner agencies to make progress, and providing healing and recovery to our employees and residents.

Upon hearing news of the event, my former boss, the county administrator of another jurisdiction, e-mailed me to offer support: “Let me know if you need anything.” I had worked with him in an assistant position prior to taking my current post, and for a moment, I thought: “Yes, can I have my old job back? I’m not sure I want to handle all this.”

But thinking of the wise words of the district attorney, I stopped. She was right: All past experiences have led me to where I am, right here and now.

Climbing the Ladder and Making Choices

My career looks like an intentional, straight climb up the proverbial career ladder, starting with an education in political science, economics, and public policy, followed by early jobs in the private sector, then as a government analyst, project manager, and assistant to the city manager. My past three jobs were in executive positions as deputy city manager, chief assistant county administrator, and now, county executive officer.

My career looks like something from an ICMA textbook. Yet, back when ICMA started, this was not the common path for local government managers. And even some 80 years ago, local managers were mostly men, only 13 percent had advanced degrees, and close to 77 percent had college degrees in engineering.1

Today, a master’s degree in public administration appears to be more common, and there is more gender and ethnic diversity among top public administrators than when ICMA was founded.

While my path may be more the norm now, my choices have not been based on traditional notions. I’m a Generation Xer born after the baby boom but before the skinny jeans ilk. Like other Gen Xers I’ve known, my decisions are made more by the types of activities or outcomes I want to pursue or accomplish, not position titles I yearn to hold.

How can I best serve to resolve problems, build strong communities, and empower and develop resilient staff was the question I would ask myself. Basically, how can I make things better and work with really cool people in the process? Along the way, I’ve learned lessons that have helped me grow professionally and personally.

I began as an analyst and project manager in local government. I was the technical expert, the “go-to gal” with the detailed financial and legal information and knowledge.

As I advanced in my organization, my daily tasks changed from master of Excel spreadsheets and analysis to more ambiguous roles like meeting facilitator, conflict resolver, and influencer. This transition was difficult. My primary source of confidence and value to the organization had changed without a clear and conscious acknowledgement.

I had to adapt and realize that the skills responsible for my promotion, while important and foundational, weren’t necessarily the ones that would propel me forward.

Mighty Mentors Teach Key Lessons

Early on, it was also hard to see myself in the city or county manager executive suite when few others there looked like me. But others saw it in me, before I saw it in myself. I am fortunate to have had men and women mentors of various ethnicities and ages.

The city manager who pulled me into the manager’s office was the first female city manager in that locality. She and the assistant city manager introduced me to ICMA and insisted I attend the annual conferences to get a better understanding of the field and relevant issues.

Another mentor was a city manager and former fire chief, whose advice I didn’t always want to hear but in the end, taught me my most valuable lessons. My last supervisor would call me out when I became too intense and myopic. These individuals created a mirror so I could see my weaknesses as well as my strengths.

Going Beyond My Comfort Zone

In every position I’ve held, I had opportunities for projects that were somewhat out of my comfort zone. Earlier in my career, my supervisor asked that I coordinate a municipal bond issuance. I knew nothing about debt finance.

He handed me a weathered, red book titled Fundamentals of Municipal Bonds and said, “Here, read this.” I read it cover to cover and led the project.

In a different city, the manager asked that I head the division responsible for services to the homeless, which had drawn greater attention that year. I had to quickly jump in, look at the data, determine whose expertise I could trust, and assess what could and could not be realistically accomplished.

Mostly, though, I had to develop emotional resilience to work on an intractable social problem with no easy solution. That experience is something that I still draw upon today.

For these experiences, I had to be ready, not just willing. This meant being out of my comfort zone and acknowledging my learning curve. It also meant addressing staff’s anxiety about change and developing a sense of rhythm and timing concerning how much I could achieve given my time in the department.

In short, it prepared me—gave me cellular memory—for taking on new challenges.

Creating More

I also learned that encouraging others to step up, giving them the tools and confidence to thrive and also make mistakes, really does create more energy, creativity, and ability. That’s not just something your human resources director wants you to believe—it’s true.

We know this approach requires time and discipline, including our own personal commitment, to ensure the energy is harnessed and directed toward the right things in the right way. It also requires systems that are flexible enough to accommodate changes in positions and jobs and believers who are willing enough to try new ways of working. All this takes work.

Drawing Strength From ICMA

Creating more has also meant giving back. When I began attending ICMA conferences more than 10 years ago, I saw few people who looked like me—under 40 (at the time), Asian American, and female.

At one of my first ICMA conferences, I met a group of several Asian American local managers from across the country. I must have looked like the young, lost pup. Later, I gave a demonstration in the tech forum and was disappointed by the small attendance (maybe four people).

At one point, I looked up to see my newfound colleagues huddling in the back, cheering me on. I’ll always remember that moment.

Each year at ICMA conferences we would gather and some five years ago, almost all were gone. They had retired. After lamenting this situation, the few remaining realized we were now “it.” The “Next Gen,” whose growth ICMA nurtured over the past decade is the “Now Gen.”

And a variety of people are now in the mix. I’ve met people who spent healthy careers in the private sector before launching into local government. I’ve met more women city and county managers, as well as men, who’ve juggled children and career.

I’ve seen younger people intent on working in the field with innovative ideas and high spirits. I’ve witnessed a change in demographics at ICMA conferences. There appears to be more age, ethnicity, gender, and geographic diversity than I remember 10 years ago. There is always more that can be done, but all of this progress is creating more.

In the end, this is the most significant lesson I’ve learned, and our profession has allowed all of us to do this—create more for our communities and organizations. My former boss e-mailed me the other day to ask: “How are you doing?” This time I thought: “Doing great.”

Why? I’m fortunate to be working where I am, surrounded by inspiring people doing great work to make life better. There’s no other place I would rather be, or should be, than right here, right now.

ENDNOTE

1 “A Changing Profession” (Source: ICMA’s 2000, 2002, 2006, and 2009 State of the Profession Surveys and The Rise of the City Manager, by Richard J. Stillman II, 1974); revised 3/29/10.