
HELLO
Christina Bilyeu
She/Her
Meet the Leader
Christina Bilyeu, MD, FACLP, recently transitioned from Chief of Mental Health Services to Assistant Physician-in-Chief for The Permanente Medical Group North Valley. She is recognized for her commitment to equity, physician well-being, and collaborative leadership, and is one of the leaders guiding the launch of Kaiser Permanente’s Greater Sacramento Valley Psychiatry Residency Program.
Restorative Leadership Interview Questions:
Question 1: What helps you stay creatively courageous when the world feels threatened/like it’s on fire?
What helps me stay creatively courageous when the world feels like it’s on fire is grounding myself in the present and remembering that joy is a form of resistance. I take in the natural beauty around me—sunlight breaking through trees, the stillness of the morning sky—and let it remind me that renewal is always possible. I also ground myself in practices of reflection, connection, and gratitude, which create the space I need to keep imagining futures that do not yet exist. I am reminded daily by my colleagues and my patients of the profound resilience and the deep compassion that still exists in the world. It's a reminder that healing and justice are possible, even in broken systems.
For me, creativity is sustained by both truth-telling and hope. In times of crisis, I hold onto the belief that choosing joy, even in small ways, disrupts despair and makes room for vision. It is in those moments of grounding and joy that I find the courage to dream boldly and to keep leading toward futures rooted in equity and belonging.
Question 2: Describe a time when your imagination helped you move from fear into action.
A time when my imagination helped me move from fear into action was when I was first asked to consider stepping into leadership for the first time. I had only ever seen myself as “just wanting to be a good doctor,” and the thought of taking on responsibility for a service line felt daunting. My fear was that I wasn’t ready, that I didn’t belong in those rooms where decisions were being made. Imposter syndrome is real! What shifted me was imagining what could be possible if I did say yes—not only for myself, but for the colleagues and patients who needed a stronger voice advocating for mental health, equity, compassion, and care. Once I allowed myself to picture a system or department where people felt supported, where representation mattered, and where we could start building a healthier culture, the fear began to lose its hold. That vision gave me the courage to step forward. It didn’t erase the uncertainty, but it anchored me in purpose. Looking back, I realize that imagination was not just a source of inspiration—it was the bridge that carried me from hesitation into action and it continues to do that.
Question 3: What does growth and holding space look like for you after a loss or rupture?
Growth and holding space after a loss or rupture begins, for me, with giving myself permission to pause. I need time to process, to heal, and to reflect—sometimes that means allowing myself to cry, to feel anger, or to sit with the weight of disappointment. I’ve learned not to rush past those emotions, because they hold wisdom too. What helps me move forward is leaning on my “square squad,” as Brené Brown calls it—the trusted circle of people who know me well, who I can turn to for wise counsel, and who also hold me accountable to who I say I want to be. They remind me that I don’t have to carry everything alone. And woven through that is laughter. Even in hard seasons, being able to laugh with people I trust has been one of the most healing practices. For me, growth isn’t about quickly rebounding or pretending a rupture didn’t happen—it’s about honoring the full process, holding space for both grief and joy, and eventually finding meaning that allows me to lead with greater compassion.
Question 4: How do you protect space for imagination in your team or community?
Protecting space for imagination in my team starts with creating psychological safety. When people know they can speak honestly without fear of judgment or retaliation, creativity and dreaming naturally follow. That’s why I hold myself accountable to doing what I say I will do—because authentic leadership builds trust, and trust is the soil where imagination can grow.
Practically, I protect that space in a few ways. I make room in meetings for open discussion rather than filling every moment with agenda items. I keep an open-door policy so that ideas can surface informally as well. We also use an anonymous suggestion box to ensure that every voice has a way to be heard.
For me, imagination is not a luxury—it’s a necessity. By modeling openness and follow-through, I hope to show my team that their ideas matter, and that together we can envision and build futures that don’t yet exist.
Question 5: What rituals or practices help you (and/or your team/community) name what hurts while still holding on to what’s possible?
The rituals that help me and my community name what hurts while still holding onto what’s possible are grounded in honesty and shared presence. With my team, that often looks like making space in conversation and in shared actions to acknowledge when things are hard. We allow each other to feel without immediately rushing to fix or resolve, which makes room for both grief and hope to coexist.
For me personally, journaling and music are powerful practices. Writing gives me a way to process what I can’t always say out loud, and singing along to lyrics that mirror how I feel helps me release what I’m carrying. Those practices remind me that honoring pain is not the opposite of hope—it’s part of the pathway to it. By creating space without demanding resolution right away,