By Dr. Cathy Dixon Brown

I didn’t wait for a title to become a leader.
Responsibility found me first.

I am the fifth of eight children, raised in a home where service was not optional; it was the standard. My father was a pastor. My mother was a missionary. Ministry was not an event we attended; it was a life we lived. We sang, we served, we showed up. Excellence was not discussed; it was expected.

Looking back, I now understand that leadership did not begin with a position. It began in what was required of me, long before I had language for it.
Even then, I was drawn to responsibility. Not out of pride, but out of awareness. I could see what needed to be done, and I wanted to do it well.
That awareness became visible in high school. I was elected class president for three consecutive years. I didn’t step into that role with a clear blueprint. There was no formal training, no structured preparation. There was simply the expectation that I would lead, and I learned by doing.

That pattern stayed with me.

Leadership wasn’t something I stepped into once. It was something I kept answering, again and again, in different environments, at different stages of life.

During my time at Rutgers University, I was an English tutor and Co-Chair for a Minority Organization which prepared students for job placement and the beginning steps towards their careers. Other roles held in church and the community shaped me into who I am today; Sunday School teacher and Superintendent, Choir directress, PTA VP/President and Hospitality Director responsible for five ministries: security, greeters, ushers, clothing drive and culinary. Here is where I truly learned to demonstrate the “fruit of the Spirit,” Galatians 5:22-23.

For more than three decades, I worked professionally, ultimately serving as a certified Project Management Professional. That season shaped how I think, how I prepare, and how I execute. I had a mentor who pushed me beyond my comfort zone. He was not always gentle, but he was intentional. He taught me that if you show up, you become prepared. If you lead, you think ahead. If you make decisions, you own them.

That discipline became part of my foundation.
But leadership does not stay where it is assigned.
It follows you into every space you inhabit.
Today, my leadership looks different. I serve as a full-time caregiver for my mother-in-law, who lives with dementia. Every day brings something new. Some days are steady. Others require more patience than I feel I have to give. But every day calls for grace.

My husband and I decided together to care for her. Not because it was convenient, but because it was right.

That decision reshaped my understanding of leadership.

It is not found in visibility.

It is revealed in responsibility.

There have been seasons where that responsibility felt heavy. Seasons where I felt overlooked, unheard, and stretched beyond what I thought I could carry; being a devoted wife, partner and faith leader for over 32 years to my husband Charles and of course a loving mother and spiritual mentor to my two beautiful daughters Cheyenne and Cierra.

One of the most defining moments came during my time in ministry. After years of service, I found myself in a place where my voice was no longer being received. I could see what needed to change. I spoke with clarity and conviction. But over time, it became evident that I was no longer part of the direction the group was taking.

That experience was painful.

Not because I needed recognition, but because I had invested deeply.

And in that moment, I had to confront a difficult truth: leadership is not validated by position. It is tested by how you respond when the position changes.

I stepped away, but I did not step down.

Because leadership is not where you serve.

It is how you show up.

I had to learn how to lead differently.

Without the structure I was used to, I began to find new ways to serve. I supported ministries in different ways. I taught. I trained. I shared what I had learned. I stayed active, not because I needed to prove anything, but because I understood something deeper:

Everything is ministry.

Caring for my mother-in-law is ministry.

Encouraging someone who feels unseen is ministry.
Showing love in ordinary moments, that is ministry.

Leadership did not leave me. It expanded me.
Through every season, my faith has remained my anchor.

Not because I always had clarity, but because I learned to trust God in its absence. Faith, for me, is not passive. It is a full commitment. It requires prayer, discipline, and the willingness to grow beyond comfort.

There are moments when you do not know the next step. Moments when the path is not clear. And yet, you move anyway.

That is faith in action.

At the same time, I have had to learn a lesson that many leaders overlook: how to care for myself.

There were seasons when I gave so much that I became depleted. The pressure, the responsibility, the constant pouring out, it took a toll. I had to pause and recognize that sustainability matters.
Now, I am learning to be intentional about self-care. To create space for peace. To build habits that restore me. Because if I am not whole, I cannot lead effectively.

Leadership is not just about how you begin.
It is about how you endure.

For those who feel called but uncertain, my advice is simple.

Do not wait for perfect conditions.

Do not allow others to define your capacity.

Position yourself in environments that help you grow.

Ask God for wisdom and then be still long enough to hear Him.

You do not need to know everything to begin.
You simply need to respond.

When I think about the impact I want to leave behind, it is not about titles or recognition. It is about the imprint, how people experienced me, how I served, how I showed up when it mattered.
If there is one thing I hope remains, it is this:
Serve with excellence.

Show up with integrity.

And take responsibility for the life you have been given.

Because leadership is not something you wait to receive.

It is something you recognize and walk into long before anyone calls you by name.

March/April 2026: Dr. Cathy Dixon Brown