About Amber
A Child of Appalachia
I grew up in rural, southeastern Ohio in a community where poverty was everywhere but so was resilience and a deep-rooted commitment of looking out for one another. The people there taught me having less does not mean having lesser abilities. And a few incredible public educators changed my life’s trajectory.
In elementary school, my principal noticed how much I loved to write. He let me use his typewriter during recess — a small act that felt enormous to a kid fascinated by words. In high school, my English teacher pushed me through a fear of public speaking and taught me the first mechanics of what makes a good speech. My show choir director instilled in me a love of performance and the confidence to step onto a stage and connect with an audience.
I didn't know it at the time, but those moments were shaping the work I would spend my life doing.
Getting My Start in Broadcast News
Few people know what they want to do with their lives at 11 years old. Somehow, I did. After anchoring our school's morning news program, I knew I wanted to tell stories for a living.
I became the first in my family to go to college, studying journalism at Ohio University. After starting my broadcast career in radio, I landed my first television news job in Parkersburg, West Virginia. There, I learned every part of the newsroom. I reported and anchored, but also learned to shoot and edit video, write to pictures, build stories from the ground up and make the editorial decisions that determine what an audience sees, hears and remembers. I learned to find the people at the center of a story, ask the questions that revealed the best soundbite and by deadline, distill hours of reporting into a few minutes.
My next stop was a larger market in Roanoke, Virginia, where I learned how quickly information can move and how important it is to get it right. I was one of the first reporters on the scene following the Virginia Tech massacre, thrust into breaking news and around-the-clock live coverage as the story unfolded. I learned to verify information quickly, make sound editorial judgments and communicate clearly when people were frightened, grieving and looking for answers. I learned that in a crisis, accuracy and speed have to coexist with humanity — and that sometimes saying less is the more responsible choice.
Finding My Purpose
Motherhood radicalized me.
Not all at once. But somewhere between having three daughters in four years, going back to school for my master’s degree and trying to re-build a career as a working mom, I started seeing the world differently. The patriarchy suddenly wasn't some abstract idea from the political science textbook I was studying in the evening after the girls went to bed. I could see it in the choices women were expected to make, the opportunities we were expected to sacrifice and the impossible standards we were expected to meet. Having daughters made those realities impossible to ignore in my own life.
I didn't want my daughters to grow up believing that the world was simply the way it was or that they had to accept the limitations handed to them. I wanted them to see women making decisions, taking up space, challenging assumptions and changing the systems that weren't working. I stepped away from my career for six years to raise my daughters. It looked like a pause from the outside but it wasn't.
Motherhood didn't change who I was or the path I was on. It gave me a purpose bigger than myself and a clearer focus.
Transition to Executive Communications
I worked in the West Virginia Legislature during the final year of more than 80 years of Democratic control, then moved into state government communications as the political landscape was rapidly changing.
My principal, the Secretary of State, was running for U.S. Senate, putting our office under a national microscope. Suddenly, the work wasn't just about communicating what government was doing. It was about navigating political change, intense scrutiny and competing expectations while keeping the focus on the work itself.
West Virginia was a microcosm of what was happening nationally and back home in Ohio: old political assumptions were being tested and the ground was shifting beneath institutions that had long operated a certain way. I learned that effective communication requires more than knowing what to say. It requires understanding the moment and knowing how a message will land with very different audiences.
I never stopped thinking like a reporter. I simply learned to use that instinct from the other side of the story as I transitioned to strategic executive communications.
Building a Career Brick-By-Brick
I thought I knew politics. Then I went to work in higher education.
Returning to Ohio University, my alma mater, as director of presidential communications put me in the middle of another institution navigating a changing landscape. The 2016 election intensified debates about higher education’s role, values and future, and campus leaders faced new questions about how to bring people together across deep divisions and who was the right leader to bring in during this transformational time.
I drew on what I had learned in newsrooms and state government to help three presidents communicate through change. I wrote hundreds of speeches, planned events, organized a year of farewells for an outgoing president then helped shape priorities for the new president, acting as co-chair of his inauguration planning committee. The challenge was beginning to feel familiar: listen, find the story that matters and help leaders communicate with authenticity and purpose.
Communicating for a Caucus
The next two years brought a series of defining moments to my career and the state/nation: the COVID-19 pandemic, racial justice protests following the murder of George Floyd and the federal indictment of House Speaker Larry Householder. Each demanded quick judgment, clear messaging and an understanding of what the public needed to know, often while events were still unfolding.
I advised Minority Leader Emilia Sykes and 37 state lawmakers on communications strategy and constituent engagement, served as the caucus’ spokesperson and worked directly with Statehouse reporters and national media. I led rapid-response communications, wrote floor speeches and opinion pieces, and helped identify strategic ways for lawmakers to engage with constituents through statewide town halls and public engagement initiatives.
Leading communications for a caucus without the votes to control the chamber taught me how much influence a strong, united message can carry. We couldn’t always move legislation, but we could move the conversation. Communications gave us a way to shape the public's perception of the work that was happening there— holding the majority accountable, elevating overlooked issues and making the case for a different path forward.
Budgets Tell Stories Too
My next two roles would teach me that a government or organization's financial statements tell a story of their own: what leaders value, what obligations they carry and what their choices make possible.
In the Columbus City Auditor's Office, my job was to make the city’s finances accessible, helping residents understand how public resources were managed in the 14th largest city in the country. As director of communications, I translated complex financial data into accessible public information and led the development of Columbus’ award-winning Popular Annual Financial Report (PAFR). I also served as the office’s public records officer, ensuring compliance with public records requirements and helping uphold transparency and accountability in local government.
I then went from working with CPAs to working for them as vice president of external affairs for The Ohio Society of CPAs. In that position, I provided strategic communications counsel across the association, aligning initiatives and messaging with executive priorities and organizational goals. I also conceived and launched The Exchange, a statewide conversation series designed to position the Society, its members and the accounting profession as thought leaders on the issues shaping Ohio’s business climate and future.
Across both roles, I learned that the numbers matter, but so does the story they tell — and how clearly we communicate it.
Committed to the Public Good
My commitment to service extends beyond my professional work.
Communities are stronger when people show up for them and I am someone who reliably shows up. After years of serving in PTA leadership and boosters, I ran for and was elected to serve on my local school board in 2023. As president, I help guide a $183 million annual budget, oversee the education of 10,700 students, and support the work of 1,425 employees across 21 schools for the 14th largest school district in the state of Ohio, representing 67,000 residents.
I also carve out time to volunteer with organizations that reflect the issues I care most about. I serve on the national board for Vote Mama Foundation, the leading source of research and analysis on the political participation of moms. I’m also active in Public Relations Society of America (PRSA) and the Professional Speechwriters Association (PSA), where I stay connected to my fellow communicators who share my passion for the value of this work.
For me, service isn’t something separate from my career. It is central to who I am.