Leadership in Silence and Struggle  #kindnessiscool

Tonight, I want to talk about a kind of leadership that often goes unseen. It doesn’t come with a spotlight, a title, or even recognition. It lives quietly—in presence, in care, and in simply showing up.

Not long ago, the world heard from Princess Kate, who shared her cancer diagnosis with grace and courage. She’s young, a mother, and admired by many. Her announcement reminded us of something sobering: cancer doesn’t only affect the elderly—it’s affecting more and more young people.

And I’ve witnessed that in my own life.

Recently, I’ve known several young people battling cancer. One of them is deaf. She couldn’t hear the doctors, the machines beeping, or the quiet reassurances from nurses. She faced her illness in a world without sound—and often, without truly being heard.

I couldn’t fix that. I’m not a doctor or a sign language interpreter. But I prayed with her. I celebrated her milestones, cheered for the decisions she made, and expressed how proud I was of her and her family. I listened—not with my ears, but with my presence. Sometimes, leadership is just being the person who stays.

Another young woman could hardly speak English, and her family was already exhausted—emotionally and financially overwhelmed. I couldn’t solve everything, but I looked up resources, reached out to networks, and offered small bits of help where I could. To them, it wasn’t just help—it was hope.

These weren’t big, heroic acts. But they were moments of quiet leadership.

Leadership isn’t always about solving problems.
Sometimes, it’s about standing with someone when their world is falling apart.
It’s about seeing the person, not just the illness.
It’s about being a source of light—even a small one—in someone else’s dark hallway.

So tonight, I invite you to reflect:

  • Who in your life might need a leader—not to fix things, but to simply walk with them?
  • Where can your quiet presence be a form of strength?

Because the most powerful leaders aren’t always the loudest.
They’re the ones who stay. Who care.
And who choose compassion again and again.

Sometimes, leadership is simply the courage to say,
“You are not alone.”

Thank you.