It Will All Work Out: What Speaking at The Helm Taught Me About My Own Work
- Kenya Dunn
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
Yesterday, I had the honor of being the closing keynote speaker at The Helm Summit, a summit created with executive moms in mind. The room was full of brilliance, ambition, and women who deeply understood what it means to be “at the helm” — leading careers, businesses, households, and lives that are deeply interconnected.
As I spoke, I did what I always do: I pulled from my lived experiences and shared my stories.
And something happened.
I could feel the women leaning in. I could see the tears, the laughter, the knowing nods. My stories were medicine, an elixir for women who needed to hear that it’s possible to be ambitious, deeply loving, imperfect, and whole all at once.
I shared a mantra that has carried me through every leap, every storm, and every season of motherhood and leadership:
It will all work out.
But later, something weighed heavy on my spirit.
The Missing Faces in the Room
Looking out, I realized the room was full of mostly white women. Their stories, their challenges, and their triumphs mattered deeply but so did the absence I felt.
Later, a friend asked me, “Who is creating nurturing environments for executive moms of color?”
The answer came quickly: I am.
Through the POWER Tribe, I’ve built a community where high-visibility, high-impact women of color leaders can exhale. A place where they don’t have to explain their experiences. Where their ambition is celebrated, and their motherhood is honored. Where they are reminded that they don’t walk alone.
That realization is why I’m sharing this keynote here — not just as a speech delivered at The Helm, but as a story that belongs to every executive mom navigating the intersections of career, family, and identity.
At the Helm Since Seven
The first time I remember being “at the helm,” I was just seven years old.
That summer, my mother was in a devastating car accident that changed her life forever. Overnight, I became an extension of her. Her voice and her hands — holding our home together.
It was my first lesson in leadership.
Being at the helm is both overwhelming and powerful.
And it’s a truth I’ve carried with me into boardrooms, executive roles, and the community spaces I now lead.
The Mantra That Anchors Me
Across decades of leadership and motherhood, one mantra has never failed me:
It. Will. All. Work. Out.
These words steadied me when I relocated my family for a career opportunity, even as I wrestled with doubt. They carried me when I missed my son’s karate test because work called me away. They reminded me that perfection is not the goal, presence is.
Wisdom from Other Mothers
Along the way, other women have poured into me. Like the elder who found me crying in a church pew, reminding me that it’s not about how much time we have, but how we spend it. Her words gave birth to the sacred rituals I created with my children — Talk Time Tuesday with my daughter, What’s Up Wednesday with my son.
Those small rituals became anchors in our home. My children are grown now, and when I ask them what they remember most, those are the moments they name. Not the trips, not the promotions but the presence.
Parenting Standards of Excellence
Years before any promotion or title, my family created what I call our Parenting Standards of Excellence. They weren’t rules. They were commitments. Guardrails to keep us grounded, such as:
Home will be the safest place to take risks.
My job is to prepare my children to thrive in the world, not just in my home.
Discipline without punishment will guide our parenting.
Communication will always be a part of the strategy.
We allow our children to feel discomfort.
Our children don't need everything we did not have.
Those standards became our anchor. They reminded us that career and family are not in competition, they are in conversation.
The Real Work of Being at the Helm
My babies are grown now, 26 and 22. Looking back on the sleepless nights, the tears in airport bathrooms, the guilt, the joy, the wins, the losses — I can say with confidence:
It all worked out!
Not because I got it perfect. But because I chose to live the journey not just survive it.
And that’s my invitation to you. Don’t rush through the climb. Don’t drown in the chaos. Don’t chase perfection.
For Executive Moms Everywhere
To my sisters — especially executive moms of color who don’t often see themselves reflected in these rooms — this is your reminder:
No perfection, only progress.
Make space for chaos.
When in doubt, return to your values.
Lean on your network — you don’t walk alone.
You are not here to save, but to serve.
You are at the helm.
It’s about setting a course, revising it when you need to, and remembering that storms don’t last forever.
It’s about parenting with intention, leading with grace, and refusing to choose between ambition and love. It’s about creating spaces, for ourselves, for our families, for our communities where we can live fully, not just survive.
And it will ALL work out.
It WILL all work out.
Not because balance will ever be perfect. Not because you’ll never miss a moment.
But because you are at the helm.
You know how to steer. You know how to lead. You know how to live the journey, not just endure it.
IT. WILL. ALL. WORK. OUT.
This keynote may have been delivered at The Helm Summit, but it belongs to every woman navigating the balance of ambition and motherhood. And through the POWER Tribe, I remain committed to creating a nurturing, powerful space for women of color leaders who deserve to experience the journey fully — not just endure it.
Honoring Sisterhood in the Arena
Before I close, I want to pause in deep appreciation for Amy Stasiukaitus, the founder of The Helm. Amy, thank you for inviting me to share my story with this powerful community of executive moms. You are a sister in the arena for women — creating spaces where our voices, our struggles, and our victories are seen and celebrated. It was an honor to stand alongside you and to witness the brilliance you’ve cultivated.
Because when women come together — to lead, to learn, and to lift one another — it truly does all work out.
Kenya