Courage means 'honoring our strength': JoAnna LeFlore-Ejike is a Woman of the Year

- JoAnna LeFlore-Ejike leads the Malcolm X Memorial Foundation, an organization whose arts programs she participated in as a child.
- LeFlore-Ejike oversaw the induction of Malcolm X into the Nebraska Hall of Fame, the culmination of a 20-year effort.
- She defines courage as acknowledging weaknesses while honoring personal strength.
JoAnna LeFlore-Ejike is one of the nominees for Paste BN’s Women of the Year program, a recognition of women who have made a significant impact in their communities and across the country. The program launched in 2022 as a continuation of Women of the Century, which commemorated the 100th anniversary of women gaining the right to vote. Meet this year’s honorees at usatoday.com/women-of-the-year-2025.
JoAnna LeFlore-Ejike's journey with the Malcolm X Memorial Foundation came "full circle" two years ago when she was named head of the Omaha nonprofit.
She already knew what an asset the organization is to her community — and to Nebraska — because she, herself, is a product of its arts programs. As a middle school student, LeFlore-Ejike took African dance and poetry classes through the foundation's after-school programs before becoming a volunteer and, eventually, joining the board.
Now, the 37-year-old executive director is tasked with carrying forward the missions of two Black leaders: the foundation's namesake, civil rights leader Malcolm X, and the nonprofit's founder, Rowena Moore.
Under LeFlore-Ejike's tenure, one of the foundation's longtime goals was finally realized when Malcolm X was inducted into the Nebraska Hall of Fame, becoming the hall's first Black honoree. The 20-plus-year effort was a credit to the work of past directors, advocates and, especially, Moore who first sought the honor for Malcolm X, LeFlore-Ejike said.
Moore, who launched the nonprofit in 1971, initially used her own money to fund events marking Malcolm X's birthday and death anniversary at his north Omaha birth site. She was also the first Black woman to run for Omaha City Council and, in her teens, tried to unionize women working in packing plants.
"She just had this level of gusto," said LeFlore-Ejike, who still relies on Moore's values and drive to propel the foundation's work in education and cultural preservation.
"I like her demeanor and approach to knowing her mission," LeFlore-Ejike said about Moore, who died in 1988. "She's not barking at people, but she's like, 'No, you have a responsibility to look out for your community.'"
"Those are the kind of footsteps I'm following into. To still be a female leader who honors her grace and honors her passion without compromising who she is."
The following interview has been edited for context and clarity.
Who paved the way for you, and who do you hope to pave the way for next?
All the female writers that I loved growing up reading. If they weren't writing, I would not have felt liberation when I was taking the Black philosophy classes, the Black literature classes. The people from the Harlem Renaissance created space for us to be heard. The creative spirits of the Black Power movement even. That's who paved the way.
Who do I plan to pave the way for? Just my daughter. I'm cool with paving the way for my child. If there's a ripple effect because of that, then that's a blessing.
How do you navigate your role as Black female leader today?
I don't personally allow people to drop their bags off with me. A lot of my close circle knows that I will absorb the news. I will make sure I'm aware of issues going on. But I rarely do community calls to action outside of self-care. I primarily ask people to make sure they're prioritizing their well-being so that they can go out into the world and be activists, leaders, etc.
Also people expect me to show up in a way. They expect me to show up calm and collected because that's my normal persona. But Black women are not given permission to be soft or calm. They're expected to be angry and demanding, and I'm not signing up for that. I am angry about a lot of things that are not OK, but I think about the fact that I have a 3-year-old daughter. Showing emotions is important to her, so she can learn how to process things. But I don't want her growing up watching me flap all over the place and being reactive to the world around me.
What's your definition of courage?
Courage, to me, means you identify with some of your weaknesses and choose to work through them, choose to navigate the world despite what you feel like you don't have enough of. Courage has a lot to do with honoring our strength, too. It's like, "No. We don't have to feel powerless as much as we were made to believe we were."
Having the courage to speak up for yourself is a big value that I'm always practicing and working on.
Is there a guiding principle or mantra you tell yourself?
Believe in my higher self and listen closely to my own heart.
There's always this filter that we battle with of who we think the world is supposed to view us as. But if you're true to who you are internally, you start to remove the mass more easily and you can live more freely. And when you're listening to your own heart, then you can walk in a way that you have integrity with every choice that you make.
What advice would you give your younger self?
I would tell her to believe in herself. Like, actually believe in herself. I would encourage my younger self to trust her guts, to speak up for herself, and to seek opportunities to feel grounded before accolades so that her sense of self-worth is internal.
F. Amanda Tugade covers social justice issues for the Des Moines Register. Email her at ftugade@dmreg.com or follow her on Twitter@writefelissa.