Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the value of awards and recognition. I’ve unexpectedly received a few honors recently, and each time I felt like the experience was about something much bigger than me. While the recognition was validating, I also sensed that I was a focal point. The awards gave me a chance to serve, for a moment, as a symbol of something much larger and more profound—a movement that I had the honor of representing in that time and space.
It got me thinking that any given award is less about the individual recipient and more about the issue they’re being honored for. More specifically, they’re about mobilizing the power of gathering and celebrating the communities and relationships that fuel meaningful work on that issue.
The Power of Gathering
One of the most rewarding aspects of receiving these awards has been the opportunity to be in a room with like-minded people who are all working toward a shared goal. I was reminded of this when I participated in the 30th-anniversary celebration of Literacy First, a high-impact tutoring program in Austin, Texas, that I deeply admire.
They chose to mark their milestone with a book-club discussion that brought together board members, staff, tutors, and partners. It was an honor to celebrate their incredible work—a chance to publicly acknowledge what I’ve known privately for years: they are an exemplary organization, changing lives through literacy.
That gathering provided a special kind of platform. I could have written a social media post or praised their efforts in other settings (and I have), but there was something uniquely powerful about being in a shared space, albeit virtual. A unique potency in collectively celebrating their impact.
Unexpected Connections
Closer to home, I recently received a Community Service Award from St. Francis Children’s Center in Milwaukee. The award was presented at a gala that brought together people from my local community, many of whom were new to my work. Being on stage gave me the opportunity to introduce my mission to fresh eyes, but it also led to some reconnections.
A woman I hadn’t seen in more than a year, when we’d shared bleachers at a middle school basketball game, was at the event. She congratulated me, and in our brief conversation, I learned she now serves on the board of a mentoring organization in the community—one I would soon be partnering with. That chance encounter, made possible by the gathering, renewed our acquaintance and kindled collaboration potential.
This is what I love about in-person gatherings: the unexpected touchpoints, the little moments of reconnection that strengthen the fabric of our communities.
A Platform to Honor Others
Awards also offer a nudge to reflect—on my own work and on those who have shaped it—and me. At the St. Francis Children’s Center event, I dedicated the award to my mother. She has been my biggest cheerleader from day one, alongside my father before he passed. More than that, she laid the foundation for my love of language and literacy.
She filled my childhood with words—thousands upon thousands of them. She enrolled me in early childhood programs, schools, and summer activities, each one helping to shape who I am today. Being recognized on that stage gave me the perfect moment to acknowledge her role in my journey.
Lately, when receiving public recognition, I’ve begun paying tribute to my namesake, Maya Angelou. I sometimes recite a few lines of her poetry as a nod to her enduring impact. Anytime I take a stage, it’s my honor to bring her with me.
The Joy of Celebration
Ever since the pandemic, I haven’t attended nearly as many events as I used to. This season of recognition has reminded me how energizing it is to gather in person. The handshakes, the quick “how are you?” check-ins, the introductions that lead to new partnerships—it all matters.
These moments don’t have to be long or formal. Sometimes, the most meaningful connections happen in those brief exchanges between speeches or in line at the coat check. Or maybe that’s just the introvert in me that prefers one-on-one interactions over holding forth in a crowd.
Awards as an Exclamation Mark
In the midst of my own personal awards season, I fell down the rabbit hole of “Mark Twain Prize for American Humor” clips on YouTube. My descent started with one Kevin Hart tribute video, then spiraled into watching segments of ceremonies honoring Dave Chappelle, Jerry Seinfeld, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, and others.
What struck me was the sheer joy of these gatherings—the way colleagues and friends came together, not just to recognize talent, but to express, out loud, what they love about someone’s contributions to the world.
That’s the heart of it, isn’t it? Whether it’s a community award, a literacy celebration, or a night at the Kennedy Center, recognition serves as a rare and precious moment to pause and say, This matters. You matter. We’re with you.
For those of us doing mission-driven work, so much of what we do happens in solitude. We put in thousands of hours, refining, creating, advocating, pushing forward, often without immediate validation. Awards aren’t the reason we do the work—but they are a beautiful punctuation mark, a moment to step back and acknowledge the impact.
So, here’s to more celebrations, more gatherings, and more moments to publicly thank all the people who make the award-winners’ work possible.
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