Recently, the Newark Academy community was treated to a morning meeting presentation about Dr. King’s famous “Drum Major Instinct” sermon. There is certainly something to be said for finding your inner Drum Major, but what struck me most about the presentation was when leaders around the school community were asked to stand. However, the prompts to stand eventually devolved into the lowest common denominator: literally everyone in the audience was standing.

This morning meeting started as a promising reminder of Dr. King’s legacy, but turned into a self-congratulatory parade. For many audience members, the focus shifted from celebrating an icon of equality to celebrating themselves. Of course, the presentation contained a valuable message – we should all be leaders, beacons of equality, kindness, and compassion. What we tend to forget at Newark Academy is that we are not yet all leaders. We are not all gifted with the capability, eloquence, and charisma of Dr. King.

My six years at Newark Academy have been, in a word, nurturing. I will forever be indebted to this school for all that it has instilled in me – both inside and outside the classroom. Yet, I fear that the nurturing qualities of this community can inflate our egos. As students, we are praised incessantly – whether it is through friends, teachers, or the outside world. Of the four college interviewers I have met, all four commented on Newark Academy’s challenging curriculum. When the Cross Country team wins a meet, we are praised on Facebook, at morning meeting, and by hoards of friends in the halls. Good grades earn you praise from your teachers, your friends, your college counselors, and advisors. The myriad of clubs at our school allow for countless leadership positions, ostensibly giving us all a chance to shine.

But where is the line? At what point is excellence expected from Newark Academy students? My parents, loving as they are, do not shower me with praise nearly as much as the school community does. They are a constant reality check, a reminder that it is a competitive world and one needs to put forth great effort to succeed. Most importantly, they remind me that I need to stay hungry. There is no value in complacence.

I implore readers of The Minuteman to stay hungry. It is easy to take stock in all that we have done, but at this stage of our lives, we still have a ways to go. Rather, I hope students approach learning with a continued passion and intensity – an A does not necessarily mean one knows it all. The same should be said for any activity one pursues; always look to improve. I have had the pleasure of spending the formative years of my life learning alongside incredibly bright students. If we remain humble, we have the potential to do great things.