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When Nkenge Bergan was born in 1972, the hospital had already prepared for the worst. She arrived almost four months early. For three weeks, doctors had not been able to detect a heartbeat. A small box was ready in the delivery room. Counseling had been arranged for her mother. Her father had been called back from Marine Corps basic training to be strong for his wife.
Then the baby cried. "The doctor didn't even have to spank me," she says with a laugh. "I was crying when I came out." Her father, who had been told to brace for a loss, spent about twenty minutes convinced his wife had lost her grip on reality before he believed they had a daughter.
Today Bergan, Ph.D., is Associate Vice President for Student Development Services at Kalamazoo Valley Community College (KVCC). She has been in public education for more than thirty years. She has never treated her story as a coincidence.
"When I think about how I got here, clearly God had work for me. There's something he expects from me. There's something that I'm here to do."
Bergan spent her first 25 or so years in K-12 as an elementary administrator, special education director, middle and elementary school principal, and district leader. She handled crises, student placement, and 504 coordination. For a season she was responsible for the safety of roughly 13,000 children and up to 1,000 staff and faculty.
Five years ago she moved to KVCC, where her portfolio covers nearly everything outside the classroom that helps students succeed. That includes advising and counseling, veteran services, student life, alumni relations, recruitment, and employment services. She stayed, she says, for the chance to serve families and underrepresented students so they can move from a job to a career that brings fulfillment.
In the last few years, she sensed a shift in her assignment. "What I have heard God saying to me more than anything is, you've done the thing with educating children. Now I need you to be educating leaders." Many of her directors and coordinators are in their late twenties to mid-forties. Higher education, she discovered, often promotes people into leadership without teaching them how to lead. Her goal is to be someone her team can follow "as I follow Christ," and to leave behind leaders who will build other leaders.
Bergan's answer to that leadership gap was practical. Once a month, she paid out of her own pocket for her leadership team to attend City Lead, a local gathering of two Kalamazoo-area churches that shares leadership principles over lunch. The team would listen, then discuss how to apply what they heard back on campus.
Not everyone welcomed it. Some team members took concerns to human resources about the church setting and the optional prayer before the meal. The college's attorneys got involved. Their review found that the meetings focused on leadership, that prayer was voluntary, and that no public funds were involved. Bergan could continue.
She did not respond with defensiveness. She told her team she was glad the concern had opened a deeper conversation, and she explained her intent. "My goal was not to convert you to go to my church," she says. "My goal was to ensure that you had the leadership skills necessary. And it just so happens that Jesus Christ was the best leadership trainer there is."
Her anchor is 2 Corinthians 5:20, the call to be an ambassador for Christ. It is, in her words, her "self-evaluation scripture." An ambassador speaks for the one who sent them, so she has to ask whether she is speaking the way Christ would. On days she falls short, it is also the verse that brings her back to center.
A second conviction shapes how she treats people. If God offers her new mercies every morning, she owes her team the same. "Humans are going to human," she says. When a policy change or a hard meeting creates tension, she reminds herself that she is not wrestling against flesh and blood. She can forgive a colleague without loving the behavior.
Her faith is also visible in a small, steady habit. Every week her campus newsletter closes with a message from her, tied to whatever her unit is wrestling with or the student experience. Nearly every one traces back to a biblical principle. Team members who share her faith often write back with the verse. She does not plan it. "They say what's in you comes out, right? It just comes out."
Early in her career as an elementary principal, a colleague quietly suggested she stop saying "Praise God" when students succeeded. She was puzzled, because the words came out involuntarily. Then came September 11, 2001. Staff members filled her office, wanting to sit in silence or pray. One teacher, who often disagreed with Bergan, explained why she came: "Because I know you're a believer. And I needed to be in the presence of a believer in this moment."
From then on, Bergan stopped second-guessing herself. The witness that mattered most was not a speech. It was who she had been when no one was asking.
Bergan describes her giving as a response to grace. She attended Syracuse University on a full scholarship from a private benefactor she had never met, after her tenth-grade principal put her name forward without telling her. The scholarship had originally required her to stay in Michigan at a public school. She turned it down because she wanted Syracuse. The benefactor and his wife prayed about it and changed the terms for her, adding a living stipend.
"When those kinds of blessings happen to you," she says, "to whom much is given, much is required." That is why she is selective about the boards she joins. She once left a seat on a symphony board because she could not see how her time there would help underserved people. It was not the place where her gifts would count.
Bergan's advice is direct. First, lead from the front, and lead other people's children the way you would want yours led. Be a leader of action, not just of title.
Second, protect your spiritual routine. During her K-12 years, Wednesday night prayer service was non-negotiable, and her supervisor knew it. "I need to be able to drop those burdens at the cross so that I can be confident, so that I can be courageous, so that I can be rested." Christ's promise that his burden is light, she says, is a real resource for leaders who carry heavy loads.
Third, be the same person in every room. She believes this moment does not allow believers the luxury of silence. She warns against a "country club" faith, one that looks right on Sunday but does not show up on Monday. "People know we belong to that country club, but they may not necessarily know we belong to Christ."
Bergan's story suggests three things to try this week. Identify the one spiritual rhythm that keeps you grounded and put it on your calendar as a fixed appointment. Extend to one colleague the same daily grace you receive. And ask whether the people you lead could see Christ in how you handle your hardest meeting.
A woman who was not expected to draw breath is now helping a new generation of leaders draw theirs. She would say that is exactly the point.
Written by
Kingdom Factor Coach helping leaders integrate faith and business for lasting impact.
Interview with
Associate Vice President for Student Development Services at Kalamazoo Valley Community College
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