Trending
Written by: Perika Sampson
Character | Achievement | Grit | Resilience
I moved to Chicago in the fall of 2002. One of my earliest memories is a mild panic attack brought on by the realization that I had arrived with roughly three weeks’ worth of work clothes. Not casual clothes—corporate clothes. Suits. Dresses. The kind of moderately stylish, carefully neutral wardrobe meant to signal I belong here. I am confident, capable, and competent.
It was so early in my tenure that my social calendar was not my own. It was assigned—curated, really—by the corporate leadership team. Meanwhile, all of my furniture and the rest of my wardrobe were still in California.
Cue crisis.
In desperation, I asked my boyfriend to go into my Bay Area home, locate a very specific evening gown and matching shoes in my guest room closet, and FedEx them to Chicago in time for my first gala. He succeeded. The dress arrived. I made it. Based on timing, I’m fairly certain it was for the Urban League’s annual gala.
A small but important aside: I am a secret shopper. Being exposed, really exposed, as someone who owns a lot of clothes, was mortifying. That relationship is long over, but every year or so, he still brings it up, usually with awe and a little ridicule.
A City That Teaches You How to Show Up
Chicago, it turns out, has a gala season—and it is fabulous.
It runs from autumn through spring and is, in my estimation, second only to New York and well ahead of San Francisco (which, to be fair, has a respectable showing). Leaders from business, social services, academia, philanthropy, and politics come together to celebrate and fund everything from the urgent to the aspirational.
The rooms are packed. The energy is high.
It’s networking on steroids—but dressed in silk, tuxedos, and purpose.
I grew to love these events and participated for sixteen years before relocating back to California.
When Presence Changes a Room
A few years into my Chicago life, I attended the Museum of Science and Industry’s Black Creativity Gala. I’d been in rooms with movers and shakers before—very important people in their respective fields—but what I love most about galas is the visual poetry of them.
Everyone looks extraordinary. The clothes. The confidence. The collective decision to show up fully.
That year, though, something shifted during the cocktail hour.
The energy changed.
A couple arrived—stunning, unmistakable. I had seen each of them individually before, but never together. They were tall and elegant, yes—but also warm. Engaged.
They spoke to everyone in their path without hierarchy or hesitation, as if to say: If you’re here, you belong here.
Refined, yet approachable. Special, without ever acting as though they were.
It was Barack and Michelle Obama, in the early 2000s, when I believe he was still an Illinois State Senator.
Like many of us, I later watched them ascend to national and global stages. And they never changed in the ways that mattered.
Always dignified. Always warm. Always appropriate.
Grace under pressure, embodied.
When Leadership Fails the Moment
What transpired yesterday, February 6, 2026, is beyond the pale.
Jealousy, hate, racism, and misogyny have no place in halls of power, whether in corporate America or the White House, yet here we are.
You cannot diminish people who have survived, strived, and thrived despite historic and structural barriers by flinging cruelty at them. That kind of ugliness only reveals the smallness of its source.
The hate you give reflects poorly on you, and everyone knows it. Those who prop up such behavior mock it in private. Loyalty born of fear is not loyalty at all.
You are something people tolerate only until they find the nearest exit—eager to wash their hands of you the moment they can.
The true tragedy is not just the behavior itself, but the cowardice that allows it to persist.
History, however, is patient. And it remembers dignity. There will be no kindness in the annals of time for him or his enablers.
Reflection Prompts – Inclusion, Allyship, and Leadership
Power, Presence, and Grace
- Recall a moment when you entered a space wondering whether you truly belonged. What signals, spoken or unspoken, shaped that feeling?
- Think of a leader whose presence elevated a room without dominating it. What behaviors made that possible?
- How do you use your own presence to include rather than impress?
- What does grace under pressure look like in your leadership today? Where does it break down?
Allyship in Action
- When you witness exclusion, bias, or cruelty, what is your typical response?
- What risks do you avoid taking in the name of professionalism or self-preservation?
- Who has made space for you, and how have you paid that forward?
- When have you known the right thing to do and chosen not to? What did it cost?
Leadership, Legacy, and Accountability
- How do you want to be remembered when leadership was tested?
- If history wrote a footnote about your leadership today, what would it say?
Inclusion as a Daily Practice
Inclusion isn’t a policy, it’s a practice. A series of daily behaviors that shape our workplaces, communities, and lives. Ask yourself:
- Who benefits when I stay silent?
- When could my voice protect someone’s dignity?
SHIFT CALL TO ACTION This week, take one concrete action to make belonging visible and undeniable for someone else.
Your Move
It starts with us.
It starts today.
How will you show up?
Related: U.S. Earnings: What’s Changed, What’s Driving Growth, and Where to Look