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Real Insights for New Executives

Real Insights for New ExecutivesReal Insights for New ExecutivesReal Insights for New Executives

Unfiltered leadership tips from young senior executives

 Unpolished Advice from two millennial best friends, seasoned executives in the federal public service, and who are energized to share what they are learning about leadership while still in the arena 

Our origin story

“It needs to be relevant,” he said. “And we need to explain the origin story.”


So instead of mapping out their career plans over dinner, they found themselves unpacking what they had learned—and were still learning—as public service leaders.


We met eight years earlier. He was very sharp, still learning how to temper intellect with empathy. She was new to the organization, light on experience but grounded in her ability to connect with people. We worked very closely, and always in sync in our restless push beyond mediocrity. At one point, we even managed the exact same team—same people, almost at the same time—which gave us a rare chance to compare notes in real time. Those years were full of triumphs and stumbles, sobering moments and small wins, all in the name of trying to move the needle and bring others along.


Now, almost 20 years cumulated into executive roles—but still considered “young” by public service standards—we’ve been brought up in a system where traditional, old-school leadership was still the norm. We’ve been right in the middle of the clash between those inherited styles and the expectations of a new generation.


We were tagged early as having leadership potential and pushed through all the standard development programs. The training offered some helpful perspectives, but rarely bridged the gap between idealized theory and the constraints of day-to-day management.

What often felt like leadership quicksand became the place where we slowly figured out how to stay upright—and even thrive.


“What about this will be different?” he asked.

“Maybe it’s that we don’t have it figured out yet,” she replied. “It’s still unpolished.”

This is just what they’re doing—while they’re still in it.


Katia had barely settled into her role at Canadian Coast Guard HQ in Ottawa when her DG—always eager to stretch talent—volunteered her for an acting assignment in Montreal. The job? Unclear. Who she was replacing? Also unclear. But Katia said yes and scheduled a quick call with the outgoing Regional Director before he left on vacation.

Enter Franck. Sort of.

What she expected to be a routine handover turned into a download of priorities, a full org chart, and a six-year-old classification issue he casually dropped on her to fix. He wasn’t looking for someone to "keep the lights on." He wanted traction.


She didn’t solve that classification mess, but she tackled everything else—and made an impression. By the end of the week, the team was asking if she could come back. And she did. Every time Franck was away, Katia returned. Franck was intrigued. He’d always believed in bridging the gap between HQ strategy and regional delivery—but this wasn’t just a developmental rotation anymore. Katia had become part of the fabric. 


The team liked her. Maybe more than him, he joked.

Months later, they finally met in person—the same day Katia received results from a DNA test revealing her roots in Benin – same as Franck! As someone adopted, it was a big moment. The dinner conversation somehow turned to ancestry, and we discovered shared ties to West Africa. It felt more than interesting—it clicked.


We spent years pushing each other. We clashed. We respected each other more because of it. We have worked for each other and with each other. 


We dedicate these capsules to passionate people like us—those striving every day to balance their own high standards for A+ performance with a core belief that the public service can be smarter, more modern, and more efficient.


Katia Jollez

Franck Hounzangbé

Franck Hounzangbé

  I was born in Brazil and brought into Canadian life through adoption. My mom, French-Canadian; my dad, an Italian born in Egypt who grew up in Brazil and somehow ended up shoveling snow in Ottawa. After 11 years of trying for kids, they adopted me—then plot twist: my mom found herself pregnant with my brother.


When it came time to choose

  I was born in Brazil and brought into Canadian life through adoption. My mom, French-Canadian; my dad, an Italian born in Egypt who grew up in Brazil and somehow ended up shoveling snow in Ottawa. After 11 years of trying for kids, they adopted me—then plot twist: my mom found herself pregnant with my brother.


When it came time to choose a degree, my only goal was to put as much distance as possible between me and anything resembling math. I chose Communications, which turned out to be the perfect training ground for storytelling. That skill has shaped everything since—from crafting policy narratives to translating complexity into clarity in rooms where decisions are made.


Growing up in Ottawa, the gravitational pull toward the public service is strong. I entered government through a student co-op, expecting nothing more than a paycheque every two weeks. Slowly, things shifted. People asked for my opinion, I was leading teams, and the work had real outcomes.


Fast forward to 2017: I joined the Coast Guard without knowing bow from stern, leaving a job I loved at the National Research Council because I didn’t want to accept the mediocrity of comfort. For months I questioned whether I made the right choice—until I visited a ship in Victoria, met the people my desk work supported, and had a Wizard-of-Oz moment: everything went from black-and-white to Technicolor.


Ten months in, I landed an executive acting role. I’d already supported the development of a new operational program and was connecting dots between national policy and boots-on-the-ground work. That acting gig became permanent, and suddenly I was leading business services for an entire region—from workforce development to industry engagement to budget oversight. Turns out I couldn’t escape math after all.


When I returned to HQ three years later, my new boss told me I had two years to get ready for his job. He meant it. Two years later, I was appointed Director General.


None of it would’ve been possible without the personal work alongside the professional. For years, I tied my worth to performance. Hustle equaled value and praise; it worked—until it didn’t. I eventually had to deconstruct the belief that performance defined me. Once I did, I leveled up, this time in mindset.


https://www.linkedin.com/in/katiajollez/

Franck Hounzangbé

Franck Hounzangbé

Franck Hounzangbé

I was born in Aylmer—right behind the McDonald’s on Main Street, as I like to specify. It adds a local flavour. Somehow, “Aylmer” doesn’t always meet the expectations they might have had. I suspect they were hoping for something a little more exotic—something that better matches their assumptions. So, I usually follow up with: “My father 

I was born in Aylmer—right behind the McDonald’s on Main Street, as I like to specify. It adds a local flavour. Somehow, “Aylmer” doesn’t always meet the expectations they might have had. I suspect they were hoping for something a little more exotic—something that better matches their assumptions. So, I usually follow up with: “My father was born in Benin, in West Africa”—I know what you’re really asking.


My mother was born in Laval. Her parents were educated, bourgeois Québécois—probably thrilled to see my father sitting in their living room for the first time in the 1960s, beside their only daughter. 


Different times.


My brother and I grew up in many places. My father became a Canadian diplomat (yes, only in Canada), and my mother followed him around the world as a French second language teacher. It’s always been difficult for me to answer the question, “Where did you grow up?” because we lived both in Canada and abroad—our lives stitched across continents.


At 17, I returned to Canada, alone, to begin university, starting in Economics and later completing a Master of Business Administration. I still remember the university agenda they gave us in Sherbrooke—it said, “The best years of your life” on the cover. And in hindsight, they were right.


Professionally, I often describe my career as a Venn diagram—a convergence of three major streams. First, my time in central agencies, where I learned how to do the work, write clearly, brief effectively, and navigate the machinery of government. Second, my years as a management consultant, which instilled a strong work ethic and the ability to prioritize and manage heavy workloads with resilience. And third, my experience as an executive in regional operations, where I led diverse, multidisciplinary, and geographically dispersed teams in a large-scale organization.


All of this brought me to where I am now—at Global Affairs Canada—working on some amazing stuff, like managing Canada’s diplomatic assets around the world: embassies, official residences, and more. 


I’m still passionate about being in the arena—with my colleagues, my friends—sometimes caring a little too much, like many of us do. I remain driven by the same purpose: to help build a better government, for Canadians.


https://www.linkedin.com/in/franckhounzangbe/

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