Quiet Stories of Extraordinary Service
Quiet Stories of Extraordinary Service
By David Yee
Director of Service Learning
and Community Engagement
At the beginning of this school year, I had the opportunity to educate our Upper School faculty on how to view all the work that students were doing in our community through our service logging app. I told them that this app was not only about tracking student compliance, but also being able to see the extraordinary things that our students do as they embody our mission to pursue goodness as well as knowledge, and moreover, as they make the world a better place.
After the presentation, many faculty members remarked that they had been unaware of the depth and impact of individual students’ contributions to the community. I think that this is not just an accident or oversight as we cross paths on a daily basis; so many people in our community let their actions speak for themselves and don’t broadcast what they do. They do these things because they are the right thing to do, and they are drawn to act within those communities. As a result, we pass by extraordinary stories on a daily basis without knowing.
Below are two such stories that wouldn’t be heard, or at least would be quieter than the hum of everyday school life, if we weren’t listening for them.
MEHON AKLILU ‘28
It is hard to pin down where Mehon Akilu’s involvement in this project begins. On one hand, since he began his journey as a Boy Scout, he had designs on earning its highest honor: Eagle Scout. On the other hand, this honor was about more than just the accomplishment and recognition for him. The “stereotypical Eagle project,” he explained, often involves building—and he knew he could have followed that path—but he didn’t want a project that simply “begins and ends.” He wanted one in which he wouldn’t remain personally involved. “I wanted mine to be a little more sentimental,” he told me.
That’s why he didn’t start with what the project should be, but instead began with who he wanted to involve. Though Mehon has been a member of the school since kindergarten, there’s another place where he’s spent a lot of his childhood: Ethiopia. “Probably six or eight months in my life,” he stated. It’s a place where he still has family, and so, in the early stages of the project, the person who he called to give him advice for his project was his aunt who lives there. His aunt was the person who suggested working with Harmony Hills Academy, an early childhood through grade 12 school in Addis Ababa, the capital city of Ethiopia.
While there are a variety of philosophical reasons why students get involved in projects involving education, the suggestion resonated personally with Mehon because his little cousin actually goes to the school. His cousin has been a presence in his life, even from afar, in videos and conversations that would bridge time in between visits to Ethiopia when they would come together. He also remembered the special needs program that his cousin is a part of, and this reflection revealed his goal: to collect sensory toys to benefit students like his cousin who are neurodivergent, especially those with autism, in environments like Harmony Hills without the means for support.
According to the organization Autism Speaks, sensory toys provide sensory feedback and regulation to children who are on the autism spectrum. It is an easy and accessible way for the child to begin to engage with their surroundings and community. Mehon was cognizant of the fact that there are some instances of well-meaning support that can actually do harm, that “good things can have bad outcomes.” Because of this, he was in touch with the staff of Harmony Hills to ensure he was filling a niche that couldn’t otherwise be filled. The staff confirmed that sensory toys are “rare, specialized, and difficult to find in Ethiopia.”
Mehon gathered these toys at his home in Alexandria. He distributed flyers around his neighborhood explaining who he is, what he was doing, and why he was doing it, then included a “how to help” section with a QR code where people could purchase sensory toys off an Amazon Wish List.
While people from his neighborhood were responsive, it’s the support of the people he knew in the St. Stephen’s and St. Agnes School community that multiplied his impact. He gave fliers to a dozen or so people he knew from the school. In the end, through his own efforts and the support of others in our community, he raised approximately $2,000 worth of sensory toys—filling nearly four large suitcases.
On June 7, 2025, Mehon traveled with his mother to Addis Ababa with the toys in tow. Three days later, he delivered the toys to Harmony Hills Academy with great fanfare. The school’s managing director, head of the Special Needs department, and community members gathered for a formal ceremony, including a traditional coffee ceremony in which the eldest person typically cuts the cake. Mehon was proud to be invited to do so as the guest of honor.
It wasn’t the ceremony that was most meaningful to him—it was returning to the school as a volunteer about a week later. He was able to see the students use and enjoy the sensory toys, connecting and engaging in a way that they hadn’t been able to before. It was “both rewarding and humbling” and it reminded him “how much impact small, intentional efforts can have.”
In the end, Mehon’s project allowed him not only to have an impact on a place that he cares about, but it also allowed him to grow. It wasn’t just about the toys, but about achieving something better, and so it pushed him to do things like work on his language skills enough to deliver a speech in Amharic, the language his relatives speak, but one that he admits he is not that confident in using. Now that he’s finished the project, he sees supporting other people’s Eagle Scout projects as essential. He wants to continue being part of something larger than himself, just as he was in his own project.
He no longer sees Ethiopia as just a place he visits. He sees it as one where his heritage and connections make him feel rooted in the community. “Rather than a vacation spot, it’s simply more home,” he said.
Mehon realizes that his journey is not complete. By choosing a project that doesn’t begin and end, one that he said had an “infinite scope” in some ways, he has discovered something that continues to drive him: “I can do something so much better.”
DECLAN GRIFFEY ‘26
Senior Declan Griffey’s online service log is actually one of the entries that started many of the conversations after my presentation to the faculty. As of January, his log reflected that he has served 1088.17 hours in his community since the beginning of ninth grade, all with one organization: the Bethesda Chevy Chase Rescue Squad. Not many faculty members knew about his story.
When I sat down with Declan, I asked about the hours. Impressive as that number may be, he was quick to say it was never about the hours. “People are core,” he told me.
His journey began with a friend’s friend and a curiosity. “I’d always enjoyed medicine, but I didn’t know if I would truly want to do it as a career,” he told me. This connection, not even a direct one, to Bethesda Chevy Chase Rescue Squad (BCCRS) appeared to be the perfect way to answer his questions.
In fact, the BCCRS website seems particularly welcoming to people wanting to assuage their curiosities. On the front page, they display an article from The Washington Post showing the story of a 76-year-old man who at 65 “thought he was too old” to be an EMT, but who has now answered over 3,000 emergency calls. There is a prominent recruitment banner calling for “dedicated and passionate” volunteers, underscoring the scale of need: in 2025, the department responded to almost 9,000 calls.
However, according to Declan, the “dedicated and passionate” part of that recruitment banner is not to be understated.
“I knew that it was something I really had to enjoy doing and I have enjoyed it more and more as I’ve been able to learn and help out.”
In order to get the process started, he recounted, “You’re going to have to take hundreds of hours of classes and training.” It’s not something you can only do short term.
Part of this enjoyment comes from how many people he’s met and helped through this role. It starts with everyone who is in the room with him on BCCRS: “Everybody comes from different walks of life. There are teachers, there are lawyers. There are people who are fully retired, there are athletes. So you see these different people from different walks of life, then you hear a ton of different stories and you get [insight] from a lot of different people because everybody brings you to the table.” This diverse group of people coming all together, around an all volunteer activity, inspires him and spurs on his own dedication.
Part of this comes from the glimpses of life he gets from answering calls. Declan does not like to get into the details very much because there are calls that “don’t end well.” It’s clear from talking to him that he’s witnessed some hard situations. He meets the most difficult calls with compassion, which opens him to the full range of people behind them—including “some super cool people,” from the FBI and military to politics and even individuals he’s seen on the news. Working with BCCRS gives him a different perspective on their lives than he would encounter otherwise.
His commitment to BCCRS has deepened his connection to his own community. “I’ve lived in my house, my same community, my same neighborhood my whole life,” he said, and he remembers all the people who have helped him along the way. “Having this opportunity, it’s kind of like my way to give back.”
And that opportunity to give back has given him a sense of how special Montgomery County is: “Montgomery County as a whole is one of the most diverse counties in America,” Declan said. “Because of how close it is to D.C. and how big it is, there’s a lot of different people and a lot of different stories that you won’t be able to see. I’ve realized more about my community doing this than I have just living here.”
Working with the Bethesda Chevy Chase Rescue Squad has also answered Declan’s initial question about his future. “I definitely want to work somewhere in the medical field,” he concluded, “It’s changed the way I’ve seen things in life. I am more compassionate towards people, I want to listen more to people. I feel like I’ve gotten more mature, inside myself, with the way I’ve seen things.” That compassion will extend to the way he approaches his continued journey into medicine.
But regardless of where he ends up in the field of medicine, his time with BCCRS has given him more than hours in a service log and more than an answer to his questions about the medical field. When asked whether other people should consider getting involved in the work, he said,
“I think it’s all about enjoying what you’re doing. I love, love doing it, and I think if you love doing something, there’s no need to cross the finish line to get a certain number of hours.”
It’s a lot of work and it takes dedication and compassion, but in the end, if you love helping your community with compassion and are willing to dedicate the time, he said, “It’s not a hard choice.”