Micheal Kawooya ’26 served as Editor in Chief (EIC) of The Phillipian, vol. CXLVIII. Before becoming EIC, he was an Editor for the Commentary section. Throughout his time at Andover, Kawooya has emphasized creative expression in many forms. Drawn to singing and performing, he has participated in community theater, recorded his own album, and is a member of The Fidelio Society (Fidelio). Kawooya is originally from Columbia, South Carolina.
When did you start writing for The Phillipian and why?
I started The Phillipian my freshman year in the News section. I did it for a couple weeks, and I didn’t love news writing at the time. I distinctly remember I would have interviews scheduled over the weekend, and I was like, this is taking too much of my time. I quit in the middle of an ASM assignment, and I didn’t think I’d return to the paper. What ended up happening was two upperclassmen that I was pretty close with, one was my EBI Upper and one was the director for a show I was in, both talked about the paper really positively. My EBI Upper was, at the time, an Editor for the Commentary section. She encouraged me to join Commentary, which is the section that I ended up writing for most of my time at Andover.
What motivated you to become Editor in Chief?
Although I had done The Phillipian for two years by the time I was an upper, I wasn’t so focused on the paper in terms of the grand scheme of things I was doing at Andover. When August rolled around, the Editor in Chief [of The Phillipian, vol. CXLVII], Louisa Carter [’25], emailed all the new Associates that there’s a meeting to help you get started in your new positions at the beginning of the year. [I was] like, oh, I forgot I’m a part of this. But my entire mood towards the paper changed from, I like this and it’s fun, to, this could be potentially really impactful to me. That shift happened when I went into the Newsroom as an Editor. When you are a writer, you submit something at the beginning of the week and it goes into paper at the end of the week. For the first time, I was the middleman in that process, and it was so fascinating to me. The Phillipian has such a special community on campus, and it feels like you are connected to so many people who have passed through the paper before you.
Were there any challenges you encountered as Editor in Chief?
It was definitely an interesting experience in terms of leadership amongst your own peers. When you have a hard decision in front of you, you feel like it is the biggest problem that you ever faced, and that it can impact so many different people around you. Learning to trust yourself and your instincts was a really big challenge. Because the paper is independent, the EIC is the last set of eyes on it before it goes out on Fridays… There were times I found it difficult adjusting to a position where you have to ask adults and administrators tough questions about all these different policies and things that are happening. Especially coming from a regular student, [it made for] a different power dynamic between adults and students.
How would you describe your experience as a member of Fidelio?
I’ve always liked singing, and it’s one of the things I do amongst several others on campus. Fidelio became so important to me, because The Phillipian becomes consuming when you’re in Upper Management. When I was really stressed about the paper, there were days when I really needed an outlet, a space that is so different from the Newsroom, so that I can come back with a refined perspective. I’d go [to Fidelio] on Thursdays, right before going back to the Newsroom and finishing the paper. It was really important for me to have that space, to sing for fun and perform for fun.
What does music mean to you?
Music is very big and broad, but it’s one of the most important things in my life. That’s a very strong thing to say, but I’m always listening to something, humming a melody, tapping my foot, even if people don’t notice it. It is very important to me, and it is one of the easiest ways for me to ground myself if I’m ever feeling overwhelmed or stressed.
When did you first begin to enjoy performing?
When I was very young, I did musicals at my elementary school [because] they threw everyone in the grade into the musical. I remember that someone who’d seen the show told my dad I should audition for Aladdin Jr. at our community theater. None of us knew what Aladdin was, and we’ve never heard of this movie. He called the community theater, tried to sign me up, and completely butchered the pronunciation of Aladdin. The sweet southern lady on the other end of the phone was equally confused. We couldn’t understand her, and she couldn’t understand us. That was when I was maybe seven or eight, and that was the first show I did for community theater. I did so many shows each year, every year until I came to Andover.
Do you also record and create music?
I did, in middle school. I got super busy in high school, but that’s something I definitely want to go back to. This is another way that music is super important to me. It’s an outlet for expression, and making music is a really effective way of doing that. It’s been really helpful for me in the past. I don’t journal or meditate or anything, I’m not very good at doing any of those, but I think that making music is my equivalent of that.
How do you think making music is different from creating music?
Making music is definitely more intimate. When you make art, you offer yourself up to be perceived, whether that’s criticism or praise. That’s probably the distinction between when you make something versus when you perform it. When you perform it, there’s a degree of separation. Although your performance can also be perceived, I don’t think it’s as intimate of an experience.
Do you have a favorite book?
I just read this book called Elsewhere by Alexis Schaitkin. It’s about this remote town of people who live with an affliction, that every mother eventually turns into air and disappears. This girl is raised in a society where she’s expected to become a mother, and is very much looking forward to becoming a mother and to ultimately disappear. Her mother disappeared, and every mother before that disappeared. They don’t understand the source of the phenomenon, but it’s so interesting. What happens to her when she ultimately gets to that point, and is it that people are actually turning into air? Is there something larger happening? It was so cool and it was such a good book.
Do you have any advice for Andover students?
Some of my most important relationships on this campus have been with adults, and there’s so much wisdom amongst the adults on this campus. It’s so easy to go through a high school for four years and miss out on all of that. Yes, relationships with your peers are super important, but making sure that you have your own network available is important too. I’ve met them in such random ways. That’s probably the beauty of it. It doesn’t have to be the adult team you have listed in BlueLink, because those aren’t people you’ve necessarily found for yourself. I love my house counselors. I also have [Instructor in History and Advisor to The Phillipian, Tracy] Ainsworth and [Neil Fater, Advisor to The Phillipian], and [Administrative Assistant Julie] Powers in the Dean of Studies Office. I have all these different people on campus who help you feel more seen and whole and supported.
