Leadership Philosophy
Volunteer programs, community partnerships, and the moments that mattered most, built and run alongside the day job, not instead of it.
I've learned that building a strong communications team is a fine balance. I hired for what was missing, not what was already in the room, and I used DISC as the framework for doing that intentionally. You don't want everyone to be the same. All high-I and you have energy and big ideas with no one closing the loop. All high-C and the strategy is airtight but nothing ships on time. All D and every meeting becomes a negotiation. All S and you have the most supportive team in the world that quietly avoids the hard conversation nobody wants to have. A great communications team needs the person who pushes, the one who connects, the one who steadies, and the one who checks the work. My job was to know which seat was empty and find the right person for it.
Every direct report got one hour a week, and they led it, not me. It could be about a project, a development goal, something personal, or nothing work-related at all. That was the point. I took my team on a field trip to corporate so a factory-floor team could see what the other side of the building looked like. We talked about the difference on the way back. I mentored a sophomore in college who took a chance on herself. I watched her move up, year by year, role by role, until she was sitting across from me as a colleague. Not because I handed her a path. Because we sat down and looked at what she wanted, and she walked it.
Coaching did not wait for a performance review cycle. It happened in the parking lot after a hard meeting, in a one-on-one that ran long because something mattered, and in the moment someone was ready to hear something they were not ready to hear the week before.
Traditional volunteer events assume desk-based schedules and the flexibility to leave during the workday. For production employees, that option rarely exists. We redesigned the model: bring the build to them. Working with Iowa Heartland Habitat for Humanity, we launched a panel build program inside John Deere facilities, where employees constructed home wall panels on-site, right on the line. Those panels were transported and assembled into homes across the community, including a home in the Churchill neighborhood of Waterloo that earned local news coverage.
An annual partnership with the Waterloo Black Hawks (USHL) brought John Deere employees and families together for a weekend of heavily discounted tickets, a custom green-and-yellow jersey worn by the players, and live bidding that benefited local charities. The theme, jersey design, and charitable beneficiary rotated each season — United Way one year, the Northeast Iowa Food Bank the next.
Part of the job was seeing what was needed and doing it. Not because someone asked. Because it was the right thing to do.
More than 11 Make-A-Wish families visited the factory and museum. Prince Aiden's visit brought together UAW Local 838 and the Waterloo Works team to fill a room with gifts, signatures, and green-and-yellow balloons. Every detail was intentional.
Two visits have stayed with me. A truck driver running the route past the factory made a call and found me. He had a promise to keep, one he had made to his son. He arrived within 45 minutes. He was carrying his late son's ashes and a photo of the boy on a John Deere tractor. No advance notice. Our team gathered anyway, walked him through the factory, and gave him time. He photographed his son next to the miniature tractors his boy had loved, the visit his son never got to make. He posted on Facebook afterward and thanked everyone who showed up for him that day. He left with keepsakes, new connections, and a promise fulfilled.
The other came from the mayor, asking if anything could be done for a man whose time was close. His dying wish was to see the John Deere Tractor & Engine Museum. The museum was closed. I opened the doors. The hospice team couldn't get him loaded — so the fire department came and transported him. His nurses were there for every moment of it. I gave the tour myself.
These stories are not here to make the role sound bigger than it was. They are here because they explain what has always mattered most: showing up for people with care, dignity, and follow-through.
The mayor called and asked if there was anything I could do. The museum was closed. I opened it. A man whose time was close got his dying wish. The hospice team couldn't get him there — so the fire department came and transported him. His nurses were there for every moment of it. A truck driver kept a promise he had made to his late son. A Make-A-Wish child took home a duck joke to tell his grandpa, and the whole family had a moment to laugh. There was never a question about whether any of it was the right thing to do. It just was.
Kelly Henderson — Communications, Community Relations & Visitor Services Manager, John Deere
A Father's Promise
A promise kept — the moment it all came together
He left with keepsakes, new connections, and a promise fulfilled
11 Make-A-Wish Visits
The John Deere team showed up — 9R is the largest tractor built with the largest hearts in their employees
A John Deere employee goes above and beyond, dressing up as Superman to give our young fan Landon Martin an unforgettable hero's welcome
Every detail was designed to get a smile
Landon learned a duck joke. He took it home to his family and made everyone laugh
New friends on the factory floor
A Dying Wish
The museum was closed. But I opened it for this request
Tour of the museum he had always wanted to see
His hospice nurses were there for every moment. They also felt the joy of making wishes come true
If you work in change management or internal communications and want to talk, reach out. Always happy to compare notes.