𝘃𝗶𝗮 𝗥𝗲𝗲𝗷𝗮𝘆 𝗗𝗲 𝗝𝗲𝘀𝘂𝘀, 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗣𝗛
They call us leaders.
They see our neatly pressed uniforms, our practiced speeches, our steady hands as we hold the mic. They see us standing tall on stage, our faces lit with confidence, our names attached to titles that carry honor.
But what they do not see is where the light does not reach.
They do not see the tired eyes behind every smile, the trembling hands behind every well-planned event, or the silent battles fought long after everyone else has gone home. They do not see the unread messages, the late-night breakdowns, the quiet sacrifices we make when no one is watching.
Student leadership is not always applause and recognition.
Often, it is the quiet art of breaking while still serving.
It means carrying expectations heavier than books, showing up with grace even when our hearts are tired, and listening to everyone’s problems while keeping our own locked away. It means answering questions we do not always have the answers to, staying kind in the face of blame, and continuing even when we feel like giving up.
We are still students.
We still get tired.
We still cry.
We still ask ourselves in silence, "Is this enough?"
Our names may appear in posters and announcements, but they are rarely called when support is needed. And yet, we continue. Not for fame, not for praise, but because we care. Because something inside us tells us that every little effort might change someone’s day for the better.
Leadership is not perfection.
It is persistence.
It is showing up, not because we have everything figured out, but because we want to be the kind of leader who listens, who understands, and who never walks away from responsibility.
If you ever see a student leader, remember that beneath the confident posture is a tired student who chose to carry more than what was required. Not because they are stronger, but because they are willing.
So instead of just saying “good job,” ask them how they really are.
Check in.
Say thank you.
Remind them that they are allowed to rest.
Because true leadership is not about being above others.
It is about being with them.
Lifting them.
And in quiet moments, needing to be lifted too.
