A Lifetime of Learning
By Ashley Russo, Chief Community & Culture Officer, Turnstone Creative
This week, I had the incredible honor of receiving ArtsQuest's Linny Lifetime Achievement Award. It's a recognition that has given me the opportunity to reflect on the people, experiences and relationships that have shaped my career and the many people I've had the privilege of supporting along the way.
I'm deeply grateful for all of it. But as I think about what this recognition means, I'm reminded of how much I still have to learn and how much more I hope to give.
Throughout my career, I've found that some of the most meaningful opportunities for growth come from those around us. The mentors who guide us, the people we've encouraged, and sometimes the unexpected moments when those roles reverse.
As it turns out, I spend a surprising amount of time mentoring people, although I’m not sure I’ve ever really thought to call it that. I’ve had the opportunity to work with Girl Scouts of Eastern Pennsylvania, spending time with young women as they discover what leadership can look like for them. I work with students, interns and emerging professionals as they find their voices. At Turnstone and throughout the Lehigh Valley, I’m surrounded by people at different stages of their careers who ask for advice, perspective or encouragement.
For years, I probably thought of mentorship the way most of us do: you gain experience, then share what you’ve learned with someone coming up behind you. The longer I do this, the less that definition interests me.
I think mentorship has much more to do with curiosity than hierarchy. Sometimes it means sharing what you know. Other times it’s asking for another perspective, making an introduction or admitting you don’t have the answer. We’re always learning when we’re curious enough to ask for help and generous enough to offer it.
My adult children remind me of this all the time. I will always be their mother, but our relationships are better when I ask for their thoughts and genuinely listen. They see the world differently than I do. Allowing them to teach me doesn’t diminish my role in their lives. It deepens our relationship.
I see that same exchange in my professional life. Building Turnstone Creative has brought together people of different ages, backgrounds and experiences, each with ideas about what this new venture can become. Starting something new, even after decades in business, means being willing to reconsider what you know. Some days I’m sharing lessons learned over the years. Other days, I’m learning from a younger colleague who sees an opportunity or approaches a challenge differently.
I see another side of that through my involvement with Magnaplate, a family business where experience, relationships and knowledge carry across generations. Being part of both environments reminds me that leadership isn't just about preserving what has worked. It's about being open-minded about what could come next.
We often talk about multigenerational workplaces in terms of differences. I’m more interested in what we can learn from them. Experience gives us context and judgment, while fresh perspectives challenge assumptions we may not even realize we’re making. Strong leaders need to be willing to teach and just as willing to be taught.
That balance requires vulnerability, and I’ll admit I have to work at it.
Much of my day is spent making decisions. People rely on me to assess situations and see things clearly, often quickly. After years of doing that, it would be easy to believe leadership means always having the answer. I’ve come to believe almost the opposite. Some of the most important questions I can ask are: What am I missing? What do you see? What would you do?
Young professionals often meet their mentors once experience has made the hard things look easy. They see the confidence, the title, the company and the accomplishments. They don’t necessarily see the years it took to get there.
I was green once, too. We all were.
I made mistakes. I needed advice. People took my calls, opened doors and gave me opportunities before I fully understood what they might become. Sharing those parts of our stories matters. If we only show people the polished version, we make success look inevitable and leave younger professionals feeling like they should already have everything figured out.
One person who has been part of my story since those early years is Katy Chen Mazzara. I’ve known Katy since college and still consider her a mentor today. The funny thing is that she now considers me a mentor, too.
I love how that relationship has evolved. The best mentoring relationships become less about who is ahead and more about investing in each other’s growth. We ask questions, share what we know and challenge each other to keep learning.
That belief is also why being part of the Tugboat Institute is invaluable to me. Tugboat is a community of business leaders committed to building enduring, purpose-driven companies. As my LinkedIn followers read this, I’m spending time with fellow members, exchanging ideas and learning from people who have navigated challenges different from my own.
These are accomplished leaders, but the point isn’t to prove who knows the most. It’s to share what has worked, be candid about what hasn’t and listen when someone sees things differently. I seek out those relationships because I never want experience to become an excuse to stop learning.
Which brings me back to the word lifetime.
The Linny Lifetime Achievement Award gives me a reason to appreciate the businesses I’ve helped build, the stories I’ve had the privilege to tell, the community I call home and, especially, the people I’ve watched grow into their own confidence and leadership.
But I don’t see this as a finish line. I want to keep learning from people who have walked roads I haven’t, listening to younger leaders who see what I don’t, and opening doors for people just getting started, while staying willing to ask someone to hold a door open for me, too.
There is still so much to learn and so much to give. And that feels like a pretty good way to spend a lifetime.