In honor of Women’s History Month & International Women’s Day
The summer after I graduated from high school, I began my internship at the Zoological Society of Milwaukee, a nonprofit organization supporting the Milwaukee County Zoo. I was hired as the receptionist, answering phones, greeting guests, and helping with mailings before heading off to college to pursue a degree in nursing.
I had always wanted to be a nurse. My family knew it. I was the caretaker — babysitting, sitting with elderly people, helping my grandparents, and taking care of my brother. Serving others came naturally to me. I imagined pediatrics. Maybe the emergency room.
And then I met Lillian Boese.
A few weeks into my internship, Lillian’s executive assistant unexpectedly went out on medical leave. The organization was small, with approximately 15 employees, and you could feel the concern rippling through the office. Lillian was the executive director. She carried the mission, the donors, the board, and the community’s expectations.
In my typical “I-can-help” fashion, I walked into her office and offered to step in temporarily. She said “yes.”
That “yes” altered the trajectory of my life.
For the remainder of that summer and during college breaks in the years that followed, I served as receptionist, intern, executive assistant, and special projects assistant. However, what I received was a masterclass in nonprofit management and leadership.
Lillian was brilliant. Impeccably prepared. Elegant without being performative. Strategic without losing warmth. She made everyone feel included, from major donors to summer interns. Her attention to detail was extraordinary. Her ability to ask anyone for support and inspire them to say yes was remarkable.
She was married to the zoo’s director, Dr. Gilbert Boese. They met at the zoo after she earned her role as executive director. In many ways they became a power couple. Talented. Accomplished. Striking.
That visibility invited scrutiny. Some critics implied she had not earned her leadership position. Media narratives could be brutal. Assumptions were made. Motives were questioned.
I watched her remain steady. She never appeared rattled. She did not shrink. She did not over-explain. She did not allow criticism to define her. She showed up prepared, poised, and focused on the mission.
She taught me through her example how one could be graceful under pressure. She showed me that leadership is not proven in applause, but in adversity.
She also taught me something equally important: Laugh at yourself when you make a mistake. Own it. Correct it. Move forward.
By the end of that first summer, something shifted in me. I still loved serving people. But I began to understand that there are many ways to serve. Nurses heal individuals. Nonprofit leaders strengthen entire communities.
Lillian Boese is the reason I became a nonprofit executive.
Over the years, I told her how profoundly she shaped me. I haven’t said it recently, and I regret that.
Today, when scrutiny comes, I remember that leadership is not about defending your title, it’s about honoring your responsibility. That lesson is hers. In honor of Women’s History Month, I want to recognize the women who shaped my professional journey, beginning with Lillian Boese.
Lillian, thank you for trusting a young intern.
Thank you for inviting me into rooms where I learned what leadership truly looks like. Thank you for modeling strength without defensiveness, confidence without cruelty, and grace under pressure. Your example remains with me today.
And when a young professional walks into my office and says, “I can help,” I remember the woman who once said yes to me.
Love this! Thank you for sharing your story!