05/03/2026
by Jessica Pemberton, ALMS Board Member
Have you ever stopped to wonder what you can truly do to impact the lives of others? In my 38+ year career in healthcare, that question has taken many forms. Early on, as a young single mother, my focus was simply survival— getting through each day and providing care for my patients as best I could. At that stage of life, the impact I made was limited to the bedside. Over time, as my career and confidence grew, my purpose expanded. I found deep fulfillment in developing new nurses and supporting staff who often went overlooked—the underdogs, the ones others had written off. Advocacy and mentorship became central to who I was as a nurse and as a person.
As I began to move toward the later chapters of my career, I felt a strong pull to give back more intentionally to the community where my children were raised and where we have made our home for over 24 years. The question shifted from if I should give back to how: What could I do that would make a meaningful difference? How can I make a difference beyond my profession?
That question followed me to an ALMS dinner I attended a few years ago, thanks to tickets gifted by a colleague of my husband. I remember sitting there, half amused and half skeptical, wondering what “All Leaders Must Serve” even meant. Was it a motivational slogan? A multi-level marketing pitch? I truly had no idea what to expect.
That evening, I listened as youth and young adults shared their personal stories—stories of struggle, resilience, self-doubt, and hope. They spoke about how ALMS had helped instill confidence, trust, and compassion in their lives. They talked about learning to believe in themselves, to dare to dream, and to imagine a future that once felt out of reach. Their authenticity and courage touched me in a way I hadn’t felt before. I recognized pieces of my own story in theirs, and I left that dinner changed.
Almost immediately, I reached out to my employer to figure out how I could become a regular donor. Supporting ALMS felt less like a charitable act and more like a responsibility—one I embraced wholeheartedly. Over time, I participated in a TRUST series activity and continued to follow ALMS from the sidelines, increasingly drawn to its mission and impact. When I was eventually asked to become more involved as a mentor and later to serve on the board, it felt like a natural progression rather than a decision I had to make.
My connection to ALMS is deeply personal. I was once a lost youth myself—17 years old, pregnant, and without a plan. While I was fortunate my parents allowed me to stay in their home and helped pay for community college, emotional support was limited. I spent years striving for approval, especially from my mother, and internalizing silence from my father, who never expressed pride or love until he was in his 80s. I grew up believing that their distance reflected my worth, that I wasn’t deserving of love or pride.
I earned my GED and, almost by accident, decided one day that I would become a nurse. I knew practically nothing about the profession—aside from receiving a lollipop after injections—and yet I moved forward with blind determination. I entered nursing school as the youngest student, navigating motherhood and academics with barely enough social support to make it through. Somehow, remarkably, I did. After graduating, I moved out of my parents’ home with my two-and-a-half-year-old son and began the long, uneven process of building a life.
The path was never easy. It was filled with mistakes, missteps, and moments of deep self-doubt. But over time, I found stability, a healthy relationship, and the joy of raising a family. Even now, I struggle with imposter syndrome—wondering if this really is my life, if I truly “made it.” And then I remind myself: I did. I turned out okay. I built something meaningful.
That is why ALMS matters so deeply to me. It embodies the support, guidance, and belief that I needed as a young person but didn’t fully have. ALMS doesn’t just serve youth—it sees them. It reminds them that their circumstances do not define their potential and that leadership begins with service, compassion, and community.
Being involved with All Leaders Must Serve isn’t just about giving back. It’s about honoring my past, investing in the future, and standing beside young people as they discover their worth—sometimes for the very first time.
Become A Stakeholder In The ALMS Vision For Yolo County Youth
As We Enter the Next Ten Years
Early giving is open now. ALMS invites you toby Jessica Pemberton, ALMS Board Member
Have you ever stopped to wonder what you can truly do to impact the lives of others? In my 38+ year career in healthcare, that question has taken many forms. Early on, as a young single mother, my focus was simply survival— getting through each day and providing care for my patients as best I could. At that stage of life, the impact I made was limited to the bedside. Over time, as my career and confidence grew, my purpose expanded. I found deep fulfillment in developing new nurses and supporting staff who often went overlooked—the underdogs, the ones others had written off. Advocacy and mentorship became central to who I was as a nurse and as a person.
As I began to move toward the later chapters of my career, I felt a strong pull to give back more intentionally to the community where my children were raised and where we have made our home for over 24 years. The question shifted from if I should give back to how: What could I do that would make a meaningful difference? How can I make a difference beyond my profession?
That question followed me to an ALMS dinner I attended a few years ago, thanks to tickets gifted by a colleague of my husband. I remember sitting there, half amused and half skeptical, wondering what “All Leaders Must Serve” even meant. Was it a motivational slogan? A multi-level marketing pitch? I truly had no idea what to expect.
That evening, I listened as youth and young adults shared their personal stories—stories of struggle, resilience, self-doubt, and hope. They spoke about how ALMS had helped instill confidence, trust, and compassion in their lives. They talked about learning to believe in themselves, to dare to dream, and to imagine a future that once felt out of reach. Their authenticity and courage touched me in a way I hadn’t felt before. I recognized pieces of my own story in theirs, and I left that dinner changed.
Almost immediately, I reached out to my employer to figure out how I could become a regular donor. Supporting ALMS felt less like a charitable act and more like a responsibility—one I embraced wholeheartedly. Over time, I participated in a TRUST series activity and continued to follow ALMS from the sidelines, increasingly drawn to its mission and impact. When I was eventually asked to become more involved as a mentor and later to serve on the board, it felt like a natural progression rather than a decision I had to make.
My connection to ALMS is deeply personal. I was once a lost youth myself—17 years old, pregnant, and without a plan. While I was fortunate my parents allowed me to stay in their home and helped pay for community college, emotional support was limited. I spent years striving for approval, especially from my mother, and internalizing silence from my father, who never expressed pride or love until he was in his 80s. I grew up believing that their distance reflected my worth, that I wasn’t deserving of love or pride.
I earned my GED and, almost by accident, decided one day that I would become a nurse. I knew practically nothing about the profession—aside from receiving a lollipop after injections—and yet I moved forward with blind determination. I entered nursing school as the youngest student, navigating motherhood and academics with barely enough social support to make it through. Somehow, remarkably, I did. After graduating, I moved out of my parents’ home with my two-and-a-half-year-old son and began the long, uneven process of building a life.
The path was never easy. It was filled with mistakes, missteps, and moments of deep self-doubt. But over time, I found stability, a healthy relationship, and the joy of raising a family. Even now, I struggle with imposter syndrome—wondering if this really is my life, if I truly “made it.” And then I remind myself: I did. I turned out okay. I built something meaningful.
That is why ALMS matters so deeply to me. It embodies the support, guidance, and belief that I needed as a young person but didn’t fully have. ALMS doesn’t just serve youth—it sees them. It reminds them that their circumstances do not define their potential and that leadership begins with service, compassion, and community.
Being involved with All Leaders Must Serve isn’t just about giving back. It’s about honoring my past, investing in the future, and standing beside young people as they discover their worth—sometimes for the very first time.
Big Day of Giving is May 7. ALMS invites you to support our youth by making a donation. Early giving is open now.
Become A Stakeholder In The ALMS Vision For Yolo County Youth
As We Enter the Next Ten Years
https://www.bigdayofgiving.org/organization/AllLeadersMustServe
