Jen M Torres shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Jen, we’re thrilled to have you with us today. Before we jump into your intro and the heart of the interview, let’s start with a bit of an ice breaker: What do you think is misunderstood about your business?
A lot of people still think DEI work is only about race or that it’s just about checking a box. But what we do at SimplyLead is so much deeper than that. Our work is rooted in practices that help everyone in an organization thrive no matter their role, background, or intersecting identities. It’s about building spaces where people feel seen, heard, and valued.
There’s also this fear being pushed, especially by the current political climate, that DEI is something to be wary of. But the truth is, when we lean into this work instead of resisting it, we create stronger relationships, healthier work cultures, and more connected teams. That’s the heart of what we do—helping people repair, rebuild, and lead in ways that feel more human.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Saludos I’m Jen M. Torres (she/her/ella), founder of SimplyLead. I’m a queer Latinx educator, coach, and strategist with deep roots in Puerto Rico, where I spent most of my life. My background is in education, and I hold a master’s degree in Educational Equity and Cultural Diversity from CU Boulder, as well as an advanced leadership coaching certificate from Harvard University.
SimplyLead is the space I built to help people and organizations do equity work that’s real not just performative. We focus on culture repair, conflict transformation, liberatory feedback, and co-creating learning spaces where everyone feels seen and heard. What makes us unique is that everything we offer is deeply people-centered. We don’t come in with cookie-cutter solutions, we listen, build together, and move with care.
Outside of my work, I’m a passionate trail runner, traveler, and lover of deep conversations. I’m especially committed to supporting Latinx communities in reclaiming their Black and Indigenous roots, re-learning our histories, and unlearning the narratives that divide us. I believe that liberation starts with remembering who we are and I try to bring that belief into every space I enter.
Right now, I’m excited to be expanding our coaching series and creating new offerings that meet people where they are, while helping them imagine what’s possible.
Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
At the core, it’s trust. Trust is what holds relationships, teams, and communities together. And when it’s broken—whether through harm, miscommunication, exclusion, or power being misused—it creates distance. It makes people shut down, pull away, or protect themselves. Sometimes that rupture is loud, like a conflict or betrayal. Other times it’s quiet like a pattern of being overlooked, dismissed, or not feeling safe enough to show up fully.
What restores those bonds isn’t just saying sorry or moving on. It’s slowing down. It’s listening deeply. It’s making space for honesty, for accountability, for naming harm and taking responsibility not from a place of punishment, but from a place of care. That’s where restorative practices come in. They allow us to come back to each other with compassion and courage, to rebuild what’s been lost.
In the work I do, we use liberatory methods that center healing, not just policy. We ask: What would this look like if everyone’s dignity was protected? How do we shift from reacting to repairing? From fear to curiosity? Whether it’s a workplace team, a family, or a community, restoration starts when people feel seen, heard, and believed.
There’s no shortcut to repair. But when it’s done with intention, the bond that comes after can be even stronger than before.
Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Yes. Honestly, right now! These last six months have been some of the hardest. Watching our democracy crumble, seeing the rise of fascism, the erasure of rights, the fear tactics, it’s overwhelming. It has left me feeling frozen, powerless, and like all the work I’ve poured my heart into might not matter. I’ve had moments where I just wanted to disappear, to stop trying, to quit. Because it felt like no matter what I did, the weight was too heavy.
But I’ve had to slowly, painfully, remind myself: fear can’t be the final word. I had to shift how fear was showing up in my body and in my spirit, turning it into fuel instead of a barrier. I had to remember that my ancestors fought for me to be here, for the rights that I have and the life I get to live today. They didn’t quit, even when the odds felt impossible. So how can I?
I keep going not because it’s easy but because I believe in something bigger than myself. I believe in community. I believe in collective power. And I believe that our voices matter, even when they shake. Like John Lewis said: If not us, then who? If not now, when?
So I keep showing up. I speak out. I root in joy and resistance. And I hold on to the people around me who remind me we are not alone in this fight.
So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. Whom do you admire for their character, not their power?
Lately, I’ve been deeply moved by Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett. The way she shows up with boldness, clarity, and zero tolerance for BS is something I truly admire. She doesn’t just speak truth to power she speaks from power. Power rooted in care, lived experience, and love for her community. That’s the kind of leadership that gives me hope.
I also want to lift up Xochitl Gonzalez, a brilliant Boricua writer who isn’t afraid to talk about the hard stuff while still centering joy, identity, and culture. Her voice is sharp, loving, and necessary and she reminds me what it means to show up as our full selves in every space.
And finally, of course, my amazing fiancée, Eboné Bell. Eboné is a force. She’s the founder of Tagg Magazine, a visionary keynote speaker, and a champion for LGBTQ+ visibility, especially for queer women of color. What I love most about her is that she doesn’t just talk about inclusion she lives it. She uplifts stories that often go untold and builds platforms where people can be seen, celebrated, and heard. Her character, her consistency, and her heart make her one of the most impactful people I know and I get to call her my person. My better half.
These women all lead with character, clarity, and care. That’s what I strive for in my own work too.
Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: What will you regret not doing?
I think I would regret not speaking up. Not fighting harder for our rights, for our stories, for our people. I would regret playing it safe instead of being my full, authentic self especially as a queer Latinx woman living in a time where so much of who we are is being erased or politicized.
I’d regret not diving deeper into the complexity of our Latinx identity how it holds multitudes, how it carries both beauty and pain, how reclaiming our Black and Indigenous roots is part of our healing. That work means everything to me. And I know I carry the responsibility to continue it not just for myself, but for future generations.
I’m actually working on a book right now that explores some of this. It explores how we return to ourselves, how we unlearn the harmful narratives we’ve been fed, and how we move toward something more whole. It’s rooted in love, in history, and in truth-telling. And even though it’s still a work in progress, just writing it has helped me reconnect to what matters most.
So yes what I’d regret is not showing up fully. Not using my voice. Not continuing the fight that my ancestors started. That’s what keeps me going, even when it’s hard.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.simplyleadllc.com
- Instagram: @simplyleadllc
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jen-m-torres-166004116/
Image Credits
Robin Kenyetta
