Matthew Blackford knows the walk to school better than anyone. For eighteen years, he’s lived directly across the street from Monmouth-Roseville High School. From preschool at his church to his final spring as a senior, this community has been the steady backdrop of his life.

But this fall, for the first time, he’ll cross a new street—heading to Western Illinois University, where he’ll major in music education and begin preparing for a career as a choir teacher.

“It’s something I’ve been building toward for years,” he says. “I love music, and I love the idea of helping students connect with something meaningful through it.”

Matthew is already a natural at blending thoughtfulness with action. He’s an Illinois State Scholar, and while he speaks modestly about the recognition, he acknowledges it as a meaningful milestone.

“It’s a validation of all the effort I’ve put in,” he says. “Over the last three or four years—and really, the last twelve.”

That effort has never been limited to the classroom. He’s deeply involved in Monmouth-Roseville’s award-winning music program, which recently won the IHSA sweepstakes competition—a moment Matthew and his classmates won’t soon forget.

“They brought us into town with fire trucks,” he says, smiling. “It was kind of surreal, but also such a great way to celebrate.”

Matthew's musical foundation is strong, but his academic drive comes from both his mother, a retired teacher, and his father, a journalist. “From her, I got my love of learning. From him, I got my writing skills,” he says. “And both of them always encouraged me to do my best.”

With a sister who’s also an Illinois State Scholar and a brother who “chose a different path—equally smart, but less interested in school,” Matthew says his family has always valued education, but never pushed it with pressure. The expectations were built around doing one’s best, staying curious, and showing up for others.

That last piece—showing up—is what fuels his vision for the kind of teacher he hopes to become.

“It’s about focusing on each student,” he says. “Being present. Helping them grow in ways they might not even recognize until later. That’s what good teachers do—they help people become who they’re meant to be.”

One of his inspirations? Mr. Emamjomeh, a former Monmouth-Roseville teacher who left a strong impression before relocating to Chicago.

“He cared about us as people, not just as students,” Matthew says. “That stuck with me. He modeled what it looks like to get personal—but stay professional. And it made all the difference.”

Matthew doesn’t see himself as a superhero. He knows he won’t save the world in a day. But he believes deeply in the cumulative power of individual moments—the kind that shape students not just academically, but personally.

“It’s the little things,” he says. “The small interactions that help a student feel seen, valued, encouraged. That’s where change happens.”

That mindset also colors his reflections on the diversity of Monmouth-Roseville—something he calls both unique and vital.

“We go to competitions and we don’t see other schools that look like ours,” he says. “The range of backgrounds and perspectives here—it’s kind of like a microcosm of the world.”

He believes that diversity makes people better prepared. “It makes you feel like change is possible,” he says, a quiet but powerful line that speaks to his worldview. “People here are embracing it. That’s special.”

Looking back, if he could offer advice to his younger self—the sixth or seventh grader wondering how it would all play out—he’d say this:

“There’s going to be a pandemic. Don’t lose your motivation.”

Like so many students, Matthew wrestled with the academic and emotional toll of COVID. “That’s where my procrastination started,” he says. “And it made the rest of high school harder. I’d tell my younger self to stay focused. Stay steady. Keep moving.”

That’s exactly what he’s doing now.

And one day soon, when he stands at the front of a classroom or choir room of his own, some young student will benefit from that quiet resolve.

Because Matthew Blackford may not wear a cape—but his impact will be unmistakable.