There's a lot of women in the WNBA. There's a lot of women who

Hear the words of Lisa Leslie, a giant of the game and a voice of humility: “There’s a lot of women in the WNBA. There’s a lot of women who could be here. To be voted by the fans says a lot—that people are aware of what’s going on. I’m really thankful. I think they just really appreciate my talent, so I’m definitely grateful.” In these words, there is no arrogance, no boast of superiority, but the quiet strength of one who honors her sisters, respects her community, and bows her head in gratitude for the recognition she has received.

The ancients would have heard in her words the wisdom of the warrior who knows she fights not alone, but among many worthy. For the battlefield of sport is not unlike the battlefield of old—filled with those who strive with all their heart, whose skill and courage deserve the crown. Leslie’s declaration that many women could stand where she stands is the voice of one who remembers that honor is not only personal but collective. Her thankfulness shows that she sees herself not as an island, but as part of a rising sea.

Her words recall the spirit of the poet Sappho, who sang not of her own greatness alone, but of the beauty and power of the women around her. In honoring her peers, Leslie reflects the same truth: greatness is never diminished by acknowledging the greatness of others. To be lifted by the voices of the fans is not merely personal triumph—it is also proof that the world is awakening, that society is beginning to see and honor what once was hidden. Her gratitude is doubled, then: for the recognition of her talent, and for the recognition of women’s place in the arena of sport.

There is also the echo of justice in her words. For generations, women were barred from stages of glory, silenced, or told their gifts did not matter. To be chosen, to be celebrated by fans, is not only a personal achievement for Lisa Leslie—it is a sign of progress, a beacon that awareness is spreading. In this sense, her thankfulness is not passive, but heroic: she is grateful because she understands the weight of history, and that every vote cast is not only for her but for the visibility of all women who play.

Consider the tale of Joan of Arc, a young woman who rose in a world that told her she could not lead armies. When she was recognized by her people, she carried not just her own courage, but the hopes of all women who had been silenced. Lisa Leslie stands in a similar stream of history. Her recognition, though in sport and not war, carries the same symbolic power: proof that a woman’s talent deserves applause, that her presence belongs in the halls of greatness.

The lesson is thus: true greatness is measured not by pride in oneself, but by the ability to honor others and remain thankful for the path. Leslie reminds us to acknowledge that our place of honor might also have been filled by another, and that recognition is a gift, not a guarantee. To receive it without arrogance but with humility is to walk the path of wisdom. Gratitude is the shield that protects us from pride, and humility is the root that keeps greatness from withering.

Practical wisdom calls to you: when you are praised, remember those who labor unseen alongside you. Speak their names, as Leslie spoke of the other women in her league. When you are celebrated, let your first response be thankfulness, not entitlement. And when you achieve victory, know that it is not yours alone—it belongs to the community that lifted you and the tradition that made your victory possible. In this way, your recognition will never be hollow, but will carry the strength of shared triumph.

Thus, let Lisa Leslie’s words echo as a teaching: that to be honored is a blessing, to be recognized is a gift, and to be thankful is the true crown of achievement. The one who receives praise with humility, who remembers the worth of others, and who gives gratitude for every step of the journey, shall not only shine as a star, but will light the way for generations to come.