The Power of the Village: What Winning an Award Taught Me About Success
By Evelyn Chen

Last Saturday night, I found myself in a ballroom at the Ritz Carlton, surrounded by some of the world’s top educators and business leaders. When they called my name for the School Director of the Year award, I walked up to that stage excited, shook hands with the amazing Geeta Phogat, India’s first female Olympic wrestler whose life story was made into a movie titled Dangal and accepted a beautiful trophy with my name engraved on it.

And I remember thinking….This doesn’t belong to me.

Well, not just to me, anyway.

Growing up in Sarawak, education wasn’t just important in my household; IT WAS EVERYTHING. My father, with his 100% Hakka Chinese resolve, treated textbooks like sacred objects. To him, a good education was both armour against the world and an engine to drive you forward. It wasn’t optional. It wasn’t even really a privilege. It was simply the only path forward.

He was right about education changing lives. But he didn’t tell me the whole story and I suspect it’s because he didn’t know it yet himself.

You see, as a girl of mixed heritage, I was juggling more than just academics. I was walking a tightrope of multifarious cultural expectations: how to speak, who to marry, how to carry myself in a world that had very specific ideas about what girls like me should become. I learnt early that identity isn’t some clean, straight line you follow from point A to point B. It’s a tapestry; messy, intricate, beautiful in its complexity.

My family gave me strong roots. But roots alone don’t make you grow. For that, I needed something my father’s philosophy hadn’t accounted for: I needed a village.

While my father instilled grit and discipline, it was my teachers who taught me how to lead. I still remember my army of teachers, who looked past the quiet girl desperately trying to meet impossible standards and saw something else entirely, potential. They were the first ones (apart from my parents) to tell me I could be more than studious; I could be influential.

My teachers taught me that leadership isn’t just about academic excellence or working assiduously until you burn out. It’s about empathy. It’s about resilience. It’s about qualities that only develop when you grow alongside people who believe in your voice, especially when you’re still figuring out what that voice even sounds like.

Those teachers left the first indelible fingerprints on my professional life. But standing in that ballroom last Saturday, holding that award, I realised just how many fingerprints have accumulated since then.

Here’s the truth about receiving recognition: the moment you accept it; you start seeing everyone else’s contribution more clearly than your own.

I didn’t just see my name. I saw faces; the faces of my colleagues at Kinder Labz, ILTI Knewton and Disted, the ones who arrive early and leave late, who troubleshoot crisis before  I even hear about it, who care about our students with the same fierce protectiveness I feel. I saw the parents who took a leap of faith and trusted us with what matters most to them: their children’s futures. And I saw the children themselves, whose growth and curiosity remind me daily why this work feels sacrosanct.

This is what I’ve come to understand: success is never about the individual in the spotlight. It’s always about the ensemble, the people in the wings, the ones building the set behind the scenes, the ones believing in a vision even when it seems quixotic or insurmountable.

I am not a self-made woman. I don’t believe such a thing exists.

I am a mosaic: my father’s determination, yes, but also my teachers’ faith, my friends’ steadiness during moments of doubt and my team’s relentless commitment to excellence. We are all amalgamations of the people who dared to invest in us when we were still rough drafts of who we’d become.

That’s why when I hold this award, I don’t feel traditional pride, that chest-puffing, look-what-I-did sensation. Instead, I feel something deeper and more complex: gratitude. Expansive, humbling, overwhelming gratitude.

Because success means so much more when you’re not holding the trophy alone.

There’s an African proverb I’ve always loved: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” I’ve spent my career choosing to go far. And I am so grateful for the village that makes that possible.

So here’s to the villages that raise us, the ensembles that shape us and the fingerprints we courageously leave on each other’s lives. May we never stop leaving them.

xx

Words to learn

multifarious – having many different parts, elements or forms; diverse and varied

assiduously – with great care, attention and thoroughness; working diligently and persistently

indelible – impossible to remove or forget; making a lasting mark or impression

sacrosanct – regarded as too important or valuable to be interfered with; held as sacred and inviolable

quixotic – exceedingly idealistic; pursuing noble but unrealistic goals with romantic determination

insurmountable – too great to be overcome; appearing impossible to conquer or achieve

amalgamations – combinations or mixtures of different elements that form a unified whole

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Whether you’re a student aiming for the top or a learner looking to expand your horizons, you know the truth: true growth doesn’t happen in isolation. We thrive when we are surrounded by people who believe in our goals and refuse to let us settle for “good enough.” At ILTI, we are more than just a school; we are a village for the thinkers and leaders of tomorrow. Here, you don’t just study English; you find your people. You join a community of learners who will support you, challenge you and stay with you long after the school year ends. Ready to find your village? Explore our programs at ILTI and discover how growing together transforms your education into a lifetime of opportunity. Your English learning journey starts here. Call/ WhatsApp: 010-395 3067 or email us at info@ilti.edu.my

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