By Jaclyn Mathias, CFCC Executive Director
Today marks my six years as Executive Director of the Community Foundation of Carroll County.
Six years.
That number feels both big and small at the same time. Big, because of everything that has happened in those years. Small, because in so many ways, I still feel like I’m in it—learning, growing, and figuring it out as I go.
And if I’m honest, this journey didn’t start six years ago.
It started in the moments that shaped me long before I ever held this title. In loss. In change. In learning how to keep showing up when life doesn’t go the way you planned. Those experiences didn’t just stay in my personal life—they came with me into this role. They shaped how I lead, how I see people, and how I understand what really matters.
I always knew this role was part of my path.
But it wasn’t the moment I had imagined.
There was no celebration. No clear transition. No time to settle into it.
Instead, I stepped in during a time when the world was shutting down—while carrying my own grief, while trying to lead others through uncertainty I was still processing myself.
It wasn’t the promotion I thought it would be.
When I stepped into this position, the world was uncertain. There was no roadmap for what leadership was supposed to look like in that moment. And truthfully, there still isn’t.
What I’ve learned is that leadership isn’t about having a clear path.
It’s about choosing to walk forward anyway.
There have been days when I’ve felt confident and steady, and there have been days where I’ve questioned everything. Days where the weight of responsibility felt heavy. Days when I didn’t feel like I had all the answers—because I didn’t.
But I showed up.
And over time, I’ve come to understand that showing up is the work.
Leadership isn’t loud. It’s not about having the right words all the time or making every perfect decision. It’s about consistency. It’s about being present. It’s about choosing people—again and again—even when it’s hard.
It’s about sitting in uncomfortable moments, building trust slowly, and leading with heart in a way that feels real.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped trying to lead the way I thought I was supposed to and started leading in a way that felt true to me. That shift changed everything.
Because the truth is, people don’t need perfection. They need authenticity. They need someone who sees them, who listens, and who shows up alongside them.
When I look around today, I don’t just see an organization.
I see people.
I see a team that shows up every day. I see a community that trusts us. I see relationships that have been built over time—through consistency, through shared moments, and through a belief in something bigger than any one of us.
That’s what I’m most proud of.
Six years later, I’m not the same leader I was when I started.
I’m more grounded. More certain of what matters. More aware that leadership isn’t about having it all together, it’s about creating space for others to show up as they are, and knowing that’s enough.
Today, I’m allowing myself to pause.
To reflect on the journey.
To recognize the growth.
To be proud of what has been built—and who I’ve become in the process.
Because leadership isn’t just about outcomes.
It’s about becoming.
Six years.
And still growing.
I don’t have all the answers. I never will.
But I do know this— The best leaders aren’t reactive, they’re rooted.
