60 seconds with alice marleaux: “i’m a firm believer that everyone has incredible gifts.”

hot take: people – not computers – still say the coolest stuff. this series is dedicated to the soundbites, aha! moments & stories that are undeniably human.   

There are some people you meet who radiate a kind of quiet and powerful goodness. That’s Alice Marleaux for me. She has this gentleness about her – the sort of presence that makes people feel immediately safe and welcome. And yet, underneath that gentleness is a total force.

Alice is the Chief Engagement Officer at Charlotte Family Housing, and if you’ve ever spent five minutes talking with her about the work, you understand why that title fits. 

She believes deeply in people and in the idea that every person carries something meaningful to offer the world and just needs the right place to share it. Alice has this beautiful way of inviting people into purpose, into service, into community. It’s not loud or performative; it’s simply who she is.

I’m excited for you to meet Alice in this Q&A. 

 – meg

toth shop (ts): You’re the Chief Engagement Officer for Charlotte Family Housing (CFH); In ten words or less, how do you define engagement? 

Alice Marleaux (AM): Engagement means belonging. Finding the place where your values, your gifts, your heart beat align or find a home within the work Charlotte Family Housing (CFH) does. I’m a firm believer that everyone has incredible gifts, and I’m the one who gets to invite people to share those to make our world a little kinder and fairer.

ts: You have one of the biggest hearts for people, fellowship, and connection. What do you think is at the root or at the core of all three of those respectively or combined? What do you think we’re all really, truly seeking?  

AM: Gah, that means a lot. I’ve been scratching my head on the roots, and it's hard to look back and pinpoint something specifically that planted this seed. It's almost like it's been growing in me for a long time and been watered or nourished by many people and events.

I went to Guatemala my freshman year in college, and I heard a Mayan priest say that we each hold a piece of the puzzle of God's face. Whether you're religious or not, believing that we each hold a specific piece of the image of God (or the richness of life) just makes meeting and knowing and caring for people so much more meaningful.

Also, when my son needed a heart transplant as a baby, there was nothing we could do to find a heart for him. Two parents simply had to say yes – and they did – for a complete stranger. That always restores my faith in people. 

I think we’re all looking for belonging, and belonging is a place where we can show up as ourselves and make some kind of impact. Or maybe that's what I’m seeking, but maybe I’m not alone.

ts: It’s Women’s History Month – what’s your favorite lesson you’ve learned from a woman in your life about the power of community?

AM: One of my dearest friends and mentors in my life is Diane Mowrey. She was the chaplain at Queens University of Charlotte when I attended. We worked together after I graduated and have continued to nurture a life long friendship. She married my husband and me, and she is my son Ollie’s godmother! 

When she was chaplain, she would always say: “It is my job to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted.” It's stayed with me a long time. Isn't it all of our jobs to provide care for and comfort the worried, the sad, the distressed AND to push those who are comfortable to step out of their comfort zone and question and serve and give? I think so. I also think at some point if you’re doing life with a community, you’ll be both the comfortable and the afflicted.  

ts: You’re training for Make-A-Wish Foundation’s 28.3 Miles Trailblaze Challenge; you know the impact of Make-A-Wish well – your son, Ollie, was granted a wish following a heart transplant as an infant. What’s the moment that just sticks with you when you think about the experience of watching Make-A-Wish grant Ollie’s wish? 

AM: As an 8-year-old boy, Ollie’s wish was to go to New York City and eat at a Michelin star Italian restaurant. 

What happened inside that restaurant was nothing short of magic. Everyone – the table captain, the doorman, the servers – treated Ollie like someone they were honored to know. We were welcomed with a kind of hospitality that felt like friendship. They taught him to make Caesar salad table-side and let him try caviar for the first time! 

Halfway through dinner, Ollie asked for my phone to take pictures of the restaurant. Thirty minutes later, he returned with a grin that stretched across his whole face: “I made friends and we took selfies!” And sure enough, my camera roll was full of photos of Ollie and the staff, all smiling ear to ear. From Antonio (the door man) to Catelyn (the general manager), everyone was beaming with joy to have Ollie by their side. 

The night ended with every dessert on the menu and the staff singing to him. He sat there glowing, joy written all over him. And, this time, I was the one with happy tears streaming down my face. It wasn’t just a meal. It was a moment for Ollie to be celebrated – not for what he had survived, but for who he is.

(PSSSTT! Support Alice’s hike here.) 

ts: Every person we interview answers this same question last – Mile 18 is generally considered to be one of the hardest miles in a 26 mile marathon. You’re hitting a wall. You’re forced to dig deep. What’s mile 18 in your line of work or at a point in your career, what do you tell yourself when you find yourself in the middle of a mile 18?

AM: Mile 18 in my work is probably about right now – March. We work on a fiscal year from July to June and this is the point in the year when we start running all the numbers really carefully to forecast if we will have raised enough money to fund CFH. Though I’m part of a much bigger (and incredibly capable and gifted) team, I carry that weight really personally. I believe so deeply in the work that we do that I want our team to be able to carry out their mission with the resources they need to truly empower families.

I can easily stress about whether we’ll make it to the finish line, and I do plenty of that, but I also remind myself of two things: 

1. One step at a time. I can always take one more step. The idea of 100 steps may be too much, but one I can handle. 

2. This brilliant poem by Katrina Kenison has carried me through some of the hardest times of my life and always carries me through mile 18 whether it be work, parenting, or relationships – “When the going gets tough may I choose love over fear. Every time.”