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A Tribute to Dr. Jenny Laster

Writer's picture: Robin MartinRobin Martin

Many of you have heard this story before, but as we celebrate the life and legacy of Dr. Jenny Laster, I feel it deserves to be shared again. Her extraordinary impact on my life cannot be overstated, and her lessons are worth passing on more broadly.


When I moved to Cincinnati to take a position at the University, it was a prestigious job—what many would call an “esteemed role.” Like many new Black professionals arriving in Cincinnati, I was welcomed with open arms, invited to leadership programs, and paraded as a symbol of progress, a kind of “look how far we’ve come” ornament. My first 16 months were filled with special meetings, introductions to prominent people, and participation in exclusive programs.


One such program was the African American Leadership Development Program (AALDP) at the Urban League. Someone recommended it, and, feeling obligated, I applied and was accepted into Class XVI. That’s where I first met Dr. Jenny Laster, the program’s director.


The program had just started when work began to pile up, and I missed a session. Shortly after, Dr. Jenny called me—not to scold, but to check on me and remind me of my commitment to the program. I remember hanging up, thinking, “She must not realize how demanding this job is.” I brushed it off, promising to attend the next session.


A few months later, I missed another session. Once again, Dr. Jenny called. First, she asked how I was doing. Then, with a nice-nasty tone, she warned that if I missed another session, she would remove me from the program.


By this point, I had started building meaningful relationships with my classmates, gaining insights into Cincinnati’s Black community, and growing as a leader. Her call stung—not because of her critique, but because I knew I was falling short. I remember getting off the call and still thinking-- "work is kicking my butt. She must not understand how busy I am."


An hour later, I received an email from Dr. Jenny. She reiterated her disappointment and made it clear: either I showed up, or I was out of the program. I’m not sure why, but the email hit differently. There’s something about seeing it in writing. It was a wake-up call. I left my desk, drove to her office, and walked straight to her cubicle. Surprised to see me, she listened as I apologized and begged to stay in the program. For an hour, we talked—about life, lessons, and shared experiences. She showed me grace and love but also made it clear that she expected more from me.


From that moment on, I committed fully to AALDP. It became one of the most transformative experiences of my life, helping me not only survive but thrive in Cincinnati. It gave me personal and professional relationships that have stood the test of time.


Lessons from Dr. Jenny

As Black professionals in these so-called esteemed roles, we often find ourselves isolated, overburdened with work, and caught in a trance, pouring 60+ hours a week into jobs (labor camps) that drain us and forgetting what truly sustains us—community.


Dr. Jenny knew that. She understood that my success wouldn’t come from accolades or job titles, but from showing up in community—with people who look like me, shared my values, and created space where I didn’t have to explain the unexplainable. She demanded my best because she knew that Black excellence is not about individual achievement but about collective uplift.


In a world that often isolates and overworks us, I pray we all encounter someone like Dr. Jenny—a force to reminds us of our humanity, the power of community, and the necessity of showing up for each other.


So today, I say farewell to the physical presence of Dr. Jenny, but not to her spirit. I loved her for her intellect, her high fashion, her sass, and even her sharp critiques. She was the epitome of Black excellence.


As I sit in remembrance of her today, I can hear her voice saying, “We have work to do.”

Let’s go, AALDP Class XVI—there’s work to be done. Let’s honor her legacy so she can Rest In Peace.


Dr. Robin Martin

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