There are some people whose work finds you exactly when you need it. For me, Minda Harts is one of those people.
Minda is a bestselling author, workplace consultant, professor, and speaker who has redefined how we talk about equity, leadership, and trust at work. Through her books,The Memo, Right Within, and You Are More Than Magic, she has given voice to the experiences so many of us were quietly carrying, especially women of color navigating corporate spaces not built with us in mind.
She’s been named LinkedIn’s #1 Top Voice in the Workplace and one of Business Insider’s 100 People Transforming Business. Her guidance has shaped companies like Nike, Google, JPMorgan Chase, and Best Buy. Her next book, Talk to Me Nice: The Seven Trust Languages for a Better Workplace (out July 22, 2025), is set to revolutionize how we think about trust as the currency of culture. And through her company, The Memo LLC, and her work as an assistant professor at NYU, she’s cultivating the next generation of leaders.
When I finally had the chance to sit down with Minda for What If It All Works Out, it felt like meeting someone who had long been part of the inner circle of my thoughts. We talked about ambition, legacy, identity, and that moment when you realize you’re allowed to want more. We talked about protecting your dream before anyone else can see it, and what happens when you stop waiting for permission. We even talked Ashanti (yes, really).
What Minda shared was wise, honest, and deeply generous. I can’t wait for you to read it.
Here’s Minda.
Faye: To start us off, can you tell us about little Minda? What was she like, and how do you see her in the woman you’ve become today?
Minda: I love this. Little Minda. I’m the oldest of three and the only girl. I think a lot of my advocacy today came from being the oldest child, being the third parent in the house. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I’ve always been advocating for others and for myself. That drive to care and speak up shaped the work I do now. I was always taking the liberty to advocate for us, working hard so we could have what we needed. That carried into adulthood. I always had a voice. I just had to decide how to use it. Now I aim to be a big sister in the workplace, calling out what’s not working and what could be better, even if I’m not the most senior person. I’ve been doing that in some form my whole life.
Faye: I’m the youngest girl with two older brothers, so I really understand that dynamic. One thing I’ve always appreciated about your work is how openly you speak about the reality that the workplace wasn’t built with us in mind. And still, many of us continue to try to find our way and make it work. How do we keep going without losing ourselves?
Minda: I think it starts with acknowledging that it’s true. We often internalize it. Why aren’t they seeing me? Why isn’t this happening? We put the blame on ourselves. But we can do all the right things and still not get what we deserve. I used to try to fit a square peg into a round hole, thinking they’d eventually see me. I was top performing, but I was making myself sick. I realized I couldn’t keep working for them.I had to redefine work for me. What does success mean for me now? That’s when I started my blog. I couldn’t leave, but the blog was my outlet. Every Monday, I’d write “The Memo.” It gave me back some power. Those small moments added up.
Faye: At the time, did you have any idea of what it could turn into?
Minda: Honestly, I wasn’t dreaming big enough. I just wanted to stop the pain I was experiencing in a toxic workplace. I was feeling hopeless, but I thought, if I feel this way, maybe someone else does too. So I wrote for us—those of us navigating that reality. It turns out that many people were, unfortunately, experiencing the same thing.
Faye: That was such a brave move. What did it feel like to speak your truth in that moment? And how did you take care of your well-being while doing it?
Minda: At that time, we weren’t talking about race and gender at work the way we do now. So I was scared to say the quiet part out loud. I wasn’t the most senior person, and I worried about what it could cost me. But I kept thinking about how many of us are beneficiaries of someone else’s courage. People we don’t even know gave us the ability to negotiate or speak up. I wanted someone to benefit from my voice. I didn’t know what would happen, but I knew what it was like to stay silent. I knew it was worth the risk. Luckily, people felt seen for the first time, and it validated so many unspoken truths.
Faye: I know I did. I’m curious what those behind-the-scenes conversations were like for you. Were people encouraging, or did it feel like you were carrying most of it on your own?
Minda: I didn’t talk to many people about it. I knew there’d be lots of opinions. One relative didn’t even know I’d left my job until two years later. They asked if I was still on leave. I was like, “Girl, I’m not going back.” It’s hard for people to understand why you’d leave something stable. But I didn’t write The Memo to encourage people to quit. I wrote it to remind us we have choices. I wanted to choose myself. I protected that dream, because not everyone would understand, even those closest to me.
Faye: That really resonates. Once you stepped into that new season, what surprised you the most about yourself or the experience?
Minda: It goes back to the stories we tell ourselves. I always thought I’d work the 9-to-5 until retirement. But stability can look different. I always saw myself as a functional introvert, so to have a voice in the workplace like I do now is a surprise to me. I didn’t have to do it like anyone else. I could do it my way.
Faye: When you think about legacy, whose shoulders do you feel like you’re standing on?
Minda: It used to be people like Oprah. And I still admire her. But now, I think I stand on the shoulders of the working women—the ones on the train, the lunch ladies, the mail carriers. The everyday women who poured into me. My mother, my grandmother. They’re the ones I draw strength from.
Faye: And what does legacy look like for you now?
Minda: I hope I’m a living legacy. I’ve been blessed to see my work impact people in real time. That makes me proud. Legacy, to me, is freedom. If someone feels a little more free because of my work, then I’ve done what I was meant to do. I hope the legacy is a chain reaction.
Faye: You’ve talked about no longer hustling to prove your worth, and that really resonates. What helped you start to redefine what success looks like for you?
Minda: I’m still working on that every day. Working for yourself is humbling and empowering. But it’s emotional. What I thought success looked like has changed. Now, I get to do it my way. Maybe I don’t have the perfect insurance plan or a predictable paycheck, but my voice is the currency. I get to speak on things others can’t. I remind myself of my why, because if I veer from that, it stops being success.
Faye: What about ambition? How do you see it showing up for you these days?
Minda: It’s staying grounded. I used to compare myself to others, look at their “paper.” But I’ve learned I have to run my own race. That’s how I protect my ambition. I’ve written three books, and a fourth is coming. This next one is about trust. I wondered if I could expand beyond workplace issues for women of color. But trust is universal. I get to set the goalposts. I am the curator of my career.
Faye: Have you ever had moments where you questioned whether you were taking up too much space or sharing too much?
Minda: Yes. That’s part of why I expanded my work to trust. I felt like I opened the door for others, and it was time to step aside and make space for new voices. We all have a season, and sometimes we have to know when to evolve. I want to be part of lifting as I climb.
Faye: If you could sit with your younger self as she was just starting to question what she was being asked to accept, what would you want her to hear from you now?
Minda: I’d tell her a line from Ashanti’s Foolish: “All the things that we accept be the things that we regret.” Don’t say yes to everything. Be intentional, not ambivalent. I accepted things no one else had to. No matter where you are in your career, you deserve dignity and respect.
Faye: Wait, I love that quote. And also, we do not give Ashanti enough credit!
Minda: We didn’t. But we do now.
Faye: We really do. I love that for her and for us. So, what’s next for you?
Minda: I have a new book coming called Talk to Me Nice: The Seven Trust Languages for a Better Workplace. I’m also in my filmmaking era. The Memo is now a short film on the festival circuit, and I just wrapped a second one. I want to keep telling stories that need to be told.
Faye: That’s so exciting. I saw the announcement and sent it to everyone. I was cheering you like you were my cousin.
Minda: Thank you. I love that. I wasn’t dreaming big enough at first. We all need to dream bigger.
Faye: One last question, aside from your own work, what are you reading or listening to right now?
Minda: A lot of screenwriting books. And I’m listening to The Town and Scriptnotes. I’m putting in the hours for what’s next.
Faye: Thank you, Minda! This was amazing.
Minda: Thank you for having me.