This past August marked 38 continuous years of my connection with the Contra Costa Community College District. I have served in nearly every capacity – from college student and student employee to part-time hourly staff member, full-time permanent staff member, adjunct professor, manager and executive-level roles, including president of Contra Costa College. Since February 2022, I have had the honor of serving as chancellor across the district.
At no point during this journey did I map out my career trajectory or consciously strive for the next position. My focus was simple: to learn all I could, work hard and give my personal best in every role I held.
I vividly recall an interview for a management position – then a male-dominated space – where I was asked, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” I answered honestly: “I will work hard and be the best in the role I’m applying for.” I wasn’t offered the position, and I was initially heartbroken.
This article first appeared in the current issue of the Community College Journal, published bimonthly by the American Association of Community Colleges.
Later, I was told that my response lacked ambition or drive. For future interviews, I crafted a more “competitive” answer – one that referenced ambition and upward mobility. Thankfully, that question didn’t come up again.
In hindsight, I’m grateful I didn’t get that job. It allowed other opportunities to unfold – opportunities that have led to an incredibly fulfilling career. More importantly, I stayed true to myself and my values.
Over the years, I’ve reflected deeply on those values: continuous learning, hard work and striving for personal excellence. I’ve come to realize that these values were instilled in me by my immigrant parents, who brought me to the United States at the age of eight in search of a better life. Though they had no formal college education, they modeled lifelong learning, resilience and integrity. I am deeply proud of my roots.
Navigating the terrain
If I could offer one insight to fellow community college CEOs, it would be this: Leadership is not a ladder – it’s a landscape.
This distinction matters. A ladder implies a singular direction, a fixed hierarchy and a narrow view of success. A landscape, on the other hand, invites exploration, adaptation and a broader perspective.
So, what do I wish I’d known? That success isn’t about reaching the top; it’s about understanding the terrain, walking it with integrity and leaving it better than we found it.
The most meaningful growth often comes not from climbing, but from cultivating. I wish I’d known earlier that authenticity is not a liability – it’s a strength. Staying true to your values, even when they don’t align with conventional expectations, can lead to a career of deep purpose and impact.
In the community college setting, leadership is rarely linear. It requires us to move laterally, diagonally and sometimes even pause to take in the terrain. We must navigate shifting priorities, diverse communities and evolving student needs. We must build bridges across departments, cultivate partnerships beyond our campuses and respond to challenges that don’t always come with a roadmap.
I also wish I’d known that the most powerful leadership moments often happen quietly, in mentoring a student, supporting a colleague or standing firm in your convictions. Titles and roles may change, but the heart of our work remains the same: to serve, to uplift and to transform lives.
To those just beginning their leadership journey, and to those well along the path: trust your values, honor your story, and never underestimate the power of showing up fully as yourself.
