Achieving Growth
HELLO
Dr. Victoria Verlezza
She/Her
Meet the Leader
Dr. Verlezza (ver-LEZ-uh) is an inclusion, equity, access, belonging strategist and educator with 20+ years of experience supporting individuals and organizations in building more inclusive, accessible, and equity-driven cultures. As a scholar-practitioner with lived experience, She brings both expertise and empathy to my work, especially around neurodivergence and systemic change. With a PhD in Human Development and master’s degrees in Social Justice Education, Higher Ed Administration, and Human Development, she help teams grow through reflection, accountability, and action.
Restorative Leadership Interview Questions:
Question 1: What helps you stay creatively courageous when the world feels threatened/like it’s on fire?
When the world feels heavy and uncertain, I find that creativity becomes both a refuge and a form of resistance. What keeps me creatively courageous is returning to the small, grounding practices that remind me I still have agency: journaling first thing in the morning, walking in nature, or sitting with music that stirs something deep in me.
I draw inspiration from community, people who are daring enough to imagine something better, even in times of crisis. Their courage gives me permission to keep showing up in my own way. I also remind myself that creativity doesn’t have to be grand, it can be quiet acts of making meaning, of noticing beauty, of choosing hope.
For me, the fire outside makes the sparks inside feel even more necessary. Creativity becomes a way to process grief, to honor resilience, and to keep envisioning a world worth fighting for.
Question 2: Describe a time when your imagination helped you move from fear into action.
I remember a season when fear had me standing still, unsure of what step to take next, afraid that any move would be the wrong one. What shifted me wasn’t logic or strategy, but imagination. I pictured a version of myself who had already made it through, who had learned what I was about to learn. I asked her what she would do, and I listened closely. That simple act of imagining a future self gave me enough courage to take one step forward. It didn’t erase the fear, but it reminded me that possibility was bigger than paralysis. Creativity opened a door fear had closed, and action became the way I kept walking through it.
Question 3: What does growth and holding space look like for you after a loss or rupture?
After a loss or rupture, growth for me doesn’t look like “bouncing back.” It looks like slowing down and allowing myself to sit with the ache before I try to move through it. Holding space means resisting the urge to rush toward closure and instead honoring the complexity of grief—the way joy and pain often live side by side. I’ve learned that meaning-making happens in small, steady practices: journaling, creating art that has no audience, talking with people who can hold silence as much as words. Growth shows up in the moments when I can soften instead of harden, when I allow tenderness to guide me rather than the need to “be strong.” Ultimately, holding space after rupture means trusting that healing isn’t linear. It’s giving myself permission to expand around the loss, letting it become part of the landscape without letting it define the whole terrain.
Question 4: How do you protect space for imagination in your team or community?
Protecting space for imagination in my team means treating it as essential, not optional. We build it in intentionally, whether that’s through dedicated time for brainstorming without judgment, inviting “what if” questions before jumping to solutions, or making sure quiet voices have room to be heard.
Culturally, I try to model curiosity over certainty. When leaders show they don’t have all the answers, it signals that experimentation and dreaming are welcome. We celebrate ideas even when they don’t “work,” because the process of imagining itself moves us forward.
At its core, protecting space for imagination is about trust. When people feel safe enough to play with possibility, the most transformative ideas surface, not from pressure, but from freedom.
Question 5: What rituals or practices help you (and/or your team/community) name what hurts while still holding on to what’s possible?
One of the most powerful practices I return to is making space for truth-telling without rushing to fix it. Whether in a team or community, we start by naming what hurts, out loud, without judgment, because grief needs a witness. Sometimes that’s through storytelling circles, sometimes through writing together, and sometimes just by sitting in silence long enough for honesty to land.
But we don’t stop there. Once the pain has been spoken, we intentionally shift to what’s possible—inviting questions like, “What do we still carry forward? What future can we imagine from here?” Rituals of gratitude, small ceremonies of acknowledgment, or even collective dreaming sessions help us tether to hope.
It’s the rhythm of both: honoring the ache while refusing to let it be the end of the story. That balance, grief and possibility side by side, is what keeps us human and moving forward together.