You’ve described your career through three chapters: preparing for your life’s work, doing your life’s work, and giving back. Let’s start with that first chapter. Growing up, you’ve said, “I wanted to be a businessman like my father.” Where did that ambition come from?
I’m a first-generation Canadian, and both of my parents came to Canada after the war in search of opportunity. My father arrived when he was 14 and only spoke Dutch. He went to night school, worked hard, and eventually built a career in the newspaper industry. My mother came from Scotland when she was 19, and they met here in Canada.
My father was really my first role model in business. I watched him go to work every day, saw how hard he worked and how involved he was in the community, and remember thinking that he looked so important, so I wanted to be a businessman like my father.
Education was incredibly important in our family, and I became the first person in my family to go to university. I knew I ultimately wanted to go into business, so I chose the co-op accounting program at Brock. I saw accounting as a means to an end: it would give me professional training and a foundation in business.
There wasn’t a grand career plan at that point. I knew I wanted to be in business, and a lot of that came from watching my father and the example he set for me.
You began your career in accounting in the early 1980s, when there were relatively few women in the profession and even fewer in senior positions. You’ve shared stories of being underestimated. How did those experiences shape you early in your career?
I grew up in a very supportive family, and my parents never treated me differently because I was a girl. Their message was always, “Do your best, whatever that might be.” That gave me a strong foundation, even when other people questioned whether I belonged.
I remember a very senior male partner at the accounting firm where I was working toward my Chartered Accountant designation telling me that I would never become a CA. I went home that day, and my parents reminded me that I could be whatever I wanted to be. If anything, being told I couldn’t do it made me more determined. I wasn’t going to let someone else define me because they didn’t believe in me.
That carried into other experiences as well. If I walked into a room and someone assumed I was the secretary, part of me almost smiled because I thought, you have no idea who I am. I knew the work I had put in and what I was capable of.
Those experiences gave me a lot of grit and resilience early in my career. I learned to show up prepared, be consistent, and work hard, and those values have stayed with me throughout my career.
You moved from accounting into industry, from CFO to venture capital, and eventually into corporate boards and entrepreneurship. How did you know when one chapter was complete, and it was time to move on to something new?
I didn’t necessarily know when a chapter was ending. Sometimes I just knew that what was in front of me wasn’t what I wanted to do next, and then another door would open.
When I was CFO of an early-stage technology company, I had been there from its formation through its growth and ultimately a successful exit. I had the opportunity to join the company that acquired us, but I knew that wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t know what was next, but I knew that chapter had closed.
Then some of the investors who had backed the company approached me about joining their firms as a general partner. By that point, I had experience scaling an early-stage technology company, raising capital, and navigating an exit, so venture capital became a natural next step.
Sometimes in life, knowing what you don’t want to do is just as important as knowing what you do want to do. You can close one door without knowing exactly which one will open next.
When I look back, my career has really been a journey and an evolution, rather than a grand plan. Sometimes you must listen to yourself, pay attention to the signs, and trust when you know something is no longer right for you. You don’t get a memo telling you a chapter is over, sometimes you just know.
Up to this point in your career, you’ve built a highly recognizable brand across the Canadian business community. What does it take for a leader to build a strong and authentic leadership brand?
I think it starts with showing up, being consistent, being prepared, and believing in yourself. You don’t create a leadership brand overnight. You build it intentionally over time through your values, your actions, and your commitment to serving others.
I was never thinking, I want to be recognized as one of the most powerful women in Canada or doing something because I wanted an award or a title. I wanted to do good work, make a difference, and have an impact.
For me, it has always been about being consistent in how I show up so that people know they can trust me. I work hard, I prepare, and I take the work seriously. Over time, that consistency becomes your leadership brand.
You’ve spent your career in a lot of rooms where consequential decisions have been made. What have you learned about how an individual can influence strategic direction?
I like to say, “lean into your power.” That doesn’t mean walking into a room and declaring that you’re powerful. To me, power is your ability to make an impact, create change, or influence an outcome.
I’ve been in boardrooms making consequential decisions around acquisitions, restructurings, and special investigations. In those moments, I always tried to remember the higher purpose of why I was there. I had a responsibility and a stewardship role, and the decisions weren’t about me. They were about what was in the best interests of the company and its stakeholders.
Ego can get in the way if you lose sight of that. My power came from the expertise I brought to the table, whether that was my financial or governance experience, and my ability to use it to influence the decision.
You also must recognize that you won’t have all the answers. Good governance is a process: understand what information you need, draw on the right experts and advisors, and work through the decision thoughtfully. You may not know with certainty that you’ve arrived at the right answer, but you can make the best decision possible with the information and expertise available to you.
You’ve served on corporate boards for more than 25 years, and when you first started, you were often the only woman at the table. What did those early experiences teach you about having a voice in the boardroom?
My voice is stronger today than it was 25 years ago. When I first started serving on boards, there weren’t many people who looked like me, and there wasn’t the same governance education that exists today. I had to learn a lot along the way.
I was fortunate to have good mentors and role models. If there was something I didn’t understand, I wasn’t afraid to ask for help. I knew I had financial expertise, and that gave me the confidence to contribute while I continued building my governance knowledge.
Over time, I learned to be fearless, but not reckless. I didn’t need to have all the answers or know everything about an industry before stepping into a new opportunity. I could rely on the expertise I already had while continuing to learn what I didn’t know.
Eventually, more women started asking me, “How did you get on a board?” I was often the only woman around the table, and those conversations made me think about whether I could do something that would have a broader impact. That ultimately became part of what led me to launch Women Get On Board Inc.
When you look at Canadian boardrooms today versus when you started, where have you seen progress, and what barriers still need to be overcome?
I think we’ve made progress, but there is still work to do, particularly when it comes to the networks and pipelines that lead people into these positions. If the majority of people around a boardroom table are men, their networks are naturally going to include more men. We have to be intentional about looking beyond the people we already know.
I experienced this when I was chairing the audit committee of a public company and we were recruiting for a CFO. The executive search firm kept coming back with all-male candidate slates, and I pushed back. I said, “No disrespect to these candidates, but where are the women? I think you can go a little deeper.”
It wasn’t about saying we had to hire a woman. It was about asking whether we had looked broadly enough to know we had the right slate of candidates. The search firm went deeper, and we ultimately recruited a female CFO.
The same principle applies in the boardroom. We must be willing to push beyond our existing networks, go deeper, and strengthen the pipeline of women who are being considered for these opportunities.
Looking back, was there a particular moment that made you think, “This is exactly why I started Women Get On Board”?
There was a moment very early on that reinforced for me why I wanted to do this. When I was launching Women Get On Board, I met with an experienced corporate director who was probably 15 years my senior. I expected she might encourage me or see the opportunity to help the next generation of women directors, but instead, she said, “I don’t know why you’re doing that. Why don’t you just focus on your own corporate director career?”
I was stunned. Rather than asking how she could help, she couldn’t understand why I would put my energy into helping other women advance. If anything, that interaction made my purpose even clearer. I was passionate about elevating the next generation of women corporate directors, and I wasn’t going to let one voice make me waver from that.
Today, seeing women in our community find board opportunities, build their networks, and support one another continues to reinforce why the work matters.
As women gain greater influence and power, what responsibility do we have to use that influence on behalf of other women? What does meaningful sponsorship look like in practice?
I think it’s important to understand the difference between mentorship and sponsorship. Mentorship is about guiding and advising someone, often behind closed doors. Sponsorship is more visible. It’s about opening doors and putting someone else’s name forward, sometimes when they don’t even know you’re doing it.
Women receive a lot of mentorship, but I think we need more sponsorship. I often put out this challenge: if you say no to a board opportunity, who are three other women you could put forward? Instead of simply saying no, you can say, “I’m not available, but here are three women you should consider.”
I call it sending the elevator down. You’ve come up in the elevator, and now you send it down for another woman. You don’t have to reach a certain stage in your career to do that, so don’t wait to start. You can sponsor someone else while still being sponsored yourself.
We can’t always be on the receiving end. At every stage of our careers, there are opportunities to put someone else’s name forward or open a door for them.
You’ve described this third chapter of your career as a time to give back on your life’s work, but you’re also very clear that you’re not done yet. Has this chapter changed the way you think about retirement?
I’m at a milestone year in my life, and people will sometimes ask me, “Why aren’t you retired?” My answer is that I’m not done. I still feel that I have a legacy to build, a stewardship role to play, and a curiosity about what comes next.
Someone once asked me when I would be done with Women Get On Board, and I said, “When we get to gender parity.” There is still a way to go. It may not always be me carrying the torch, and I hope someone else will eventually carry it forward.
For me, this stage is about finding the joy and purpose that give it meaning. Giving back can take many forms, whether that’s board service, community service, or something entirely different. I want to continue feeling fulfilled and engaged while using what I’ve learned in ways that can have an impact.
You’ve also started writing about what you call “The Power of the Third Chapter.” What are you hoping to explore through that work?
When I think about the three chapters, preparing for your life’s work, doing your life’s work, and giving back to your life’s work, I don’t see a career as a singular climb. There are different phases where you’re learning, redefining yourself, and continuing to evolve.
That’s particularly true of the third chapter. People sometimes talk about this stage as an ending, but I think it can be a launchpad for renewed purpose, exploring new things, and thinking about where you can have an impact.
That’s really what I’m exploring through the book. It has evolved into a memoir that brings together lessons about leadership and business with the experiences that have shaped me, including being a working mother and the choices I’ve made at different stages of my life.
One of the things I’ve learned is that we can’t have it all at once, but we can have it at different times. When my sons were younger and I was an executive, I didn’t have the capacity to give back to the community in the way I might have wanted to. Later in life, I did. There are different seasons, and I think we have to be aware of where we are and give ourselves some grace along the way.
When you eventually look back on this third chapter, what would make you feel that you accomplished what you set out to do?
I would feel that I had an impact if there was one more woman who joined a board, one more woman who found her voice, or one more woman who brought another woman in.
To me, it’s about creating that ripple effect. I’m putting those droplets down, and I hope they continue to ripple outward.
If the women, I’ve helped go on to open doors for other women, and they do the same for someone else, then that impact becomes much bigger than any one person. That’s the legacy I hope to leave.
