It has been quite some time since I last dedicated myself to writing an editorial. In fact, this may be my first since taking on the administration of Club Penguin Armies. Yet, in an effort to strengthen the bridge between the administration and the wider community, here I am once more, sharing a few thoughts and reflections.
Designed by Edu14463
These past six months of joint administration with Jojo Teri have been remarkable. We have reached significant milestones, renewed the organization’s internal structure — though there is still much to be done — completely redesigned the Server Map, and fostered closer communication and collaboration with both the Army Board and the leadership of armies as a whole. We hosted a successful Census, and promoted growth and activity in what was the best Summer of Club Penguin Armies ever since 2021. In a relatively short period, we have achieved a great deal for this community, and our ambitions reach even further.
However, not everything in an administration is smooth sailing. There are considerable challenges that we both face, as well as moments of deep exhaustion and turbulence. These are, of course, part of the job — the price one pays for leadership. Still, such moments can take a personal toll, testing both patience and conviction.
In this editorial, I would like to offer my personal perspective on three core aspects of this journey — challenges that every leader in a community such as ours inevitably encounters:
The Difficulty of Pleasing Everyone
One of the first lessons I learned as an Administrator is that no matter what you do, no matter how fair, transparent, or well-intentioned you try to be, someone will always feel wronged. And this is not a sign of failure. It is simply the reality of leading a passionate, tightly knit community like CPA, where everyone cares deeply, sometimes fiercely, about what happens here.
The Rebel Penguin Federation incident in September made that truth painfully clear. It was one of those moments where leadership stops being theoretical and becomes something you feel. You feel the weight of responsibility, the tension of expectations, the uneasy awareness that every word and every silence will be interpreted in some way. When the situation first surfaced, it spread fast. Reactions flooded in, opinions solidified almost instantly, and the pressure to “do something” was immense as days passed. People wanted answers, action, accountability, all of it. And they wanted it ‘asap’. But leadership does not work at the speed of public sentiment. Behind the scenes, we spent hours, days reviewing what had happened, speaking to those involved, and comparing perspectives that did not quite align. It was not easy to sit with the uncertainty, knowing that whatever we decided, someone would call it unfair. But fairness is not the same as popularity. It is quieter. It is slower. And it often looks, from the outside, like hesitation.
“On a more particular note, a hard pill to swallow, for some, is that certain individuals are so convinced about their own constructed truths that they would die for these instead of pursuing full clarity on matters.”
When the administration finally reached a decision, the community split right down the middle. Some thought we had gone too far, others said we had not gone far enough. It is strange how, in moments like that, both sides can be equally convinced they are standing on justice. What I realized then — and continue to realize — is that leadership means walking a narrow path between competing truths, where clarity rarely comes without criticism. On a more particular note, a hard pill to swallow, for some, is that certain individuals are so convinced about their own constructed truths that they would die for these instead of pursuing full clarity on matters.
Looking back, I do not regret the way we handled it, though I do recognize the imperfections in how it all unfolded, especially in our investigation. The RPF case taught me a lot about communication, about timing, and about how perception can sometimes overshadow reality. It taught me that even when your intentions are right, people will not always see them that way. But perhaps most importantly, it taught me that you cannot lead by trying to please everyone. You lead by standing firm in what you believe is right, even when it costs you approval. Because, in the end, leadership is certainly not about being liked. It is about being responsible. It is about doing the hard thing when silence or neutrality would be easier.
And sometimes, that is what makes it so exhausting, but also what makes it meaningful. Without a doubt, our Administration has come out of it stronger than ever, with an open-minded posture to learn more to better serve the community.
The Courage To Forge Change
Leading CPA has taught me that change is never easy. Not for the community, and not for the leaders tasked with guiding it.
Over the past months, Jojo and I undertook several ambitious initiatives that tested both our vision and our resolve. One of the most significant was the revamp of the organization’s policies. Many of these policies had been in place for years and were no longer effective in guiding an evolving community. Updating them meant challenging tradition, listening to competing opinions, and sometimes making decisions that would inevitably be controversial. It required courage to step into that role. Just like medicine may taste bad for those who are taking it, some good, necessary changes may feel uncomfortable for some.
“Over these last months, we have not simply been maintaining Club Penguin Armies; we have been rebuilding it.”
Change demands courage, and it is a kind of courage we have had to draw upon daily. It is, frankly, far easier to maintain the status quo, to follow the path of least resistance and simply manage the machinery as it currently runs. Yet, in our context, I believe that without intentional, sometimes drastic change, there is no growth; there is only stagnation. Over these last months, we have not simply been maintaining Club Penguin Armies; we have been rebuilding it. This process of change is deeply personal and often exhausting. Every modification to the internal structure meant challenging long-held customs, asking dedicated staff members and department heads to adapt their roles, and restructuring how we operate at the most fundamental level.
The same intensity was applied to the tangible decisions, like the complete redesign of the Server Map rules in the Map Summit. I remember the hours spent debating with leaders and community members over a single rule, knowing that even the slightest change could change warfare either in a good or bad way. The reaction, as predicted, was mixed. We were met with tremendous enthusiasm from many people eager for a cleaner, more competitive environment, but also with fierce resistance from those who felt the change was an unnecessary complication or a step away from tradition. Like I said, it is impossible to make everyone feel pleased, even when actions are inherently good. Sometimes people will just raise opposition for the sake of opposing.
This is the personal crucible of leadership: you must stand firm in your conviction, even when the criticism is loud and aimed directly at your judgment. Focus. Do what must be done for the long-term health of the organization, and to ensure that the community evolves and remains growing. The applause for your efforts may only come long after the difficult work is done. It is the willingness to be the one who makes the choice when everyone else would prefer to defer.
The Personal Cost of Sincere Leadership
Leadership in a community this size is not a quiet endeavor; it demands decisive action and also unflinching visibility. As an administrator, you are expected to stand directly at the forefront, engaging daily with the debates, the deeply held frustrations, and the fierce passions of the community. Yet, to occupy this position honestly, I realized we must be comfortable with a significant measure of controversy. And well, in my own personal experience, this state of being controversial is not just a side effect of this administration, but an inherent and unavoidable echo of the countless disgraceful episodes I was involved in throughout my many years in the army community. That is a reality. The past cannot be erased by a title.
“We all have flaws, and growth comes from understanding and acceptance. If you cannot embrace that, I ask that you move on from here.”
Frankly, this is a peculiar truth of my own journey that I have come to accept, and even like it a bit (what can be perceived as sadism by some people, haha). This tension, for me, is not a burden to be endured, but a deep and profound confirmation of sincerity. I will never pretend my past never existed and try to bury it at all costs. I have reached a point where I simply do not care about achieving universal approval or escaping the scrutiny of history. The easy path is to speak softly and pursue consensus for the sake of political expediency. Instead, I find greater integrity, and honestly, greater inner peace, in being honest, bold, and fiercely sincere with my beliefs, judgments, and history. Unfortunately, for those who insist on judging others solely for their past mistakes, this community may no longer be the right place for you. We all have flaws, and growth comes from understanding and acceptance. If you cannot embrace that, I ask that you move on from here.
I have learned to look past the momentary noise of dissatisfaction. In a sense, it is ironically satisfying to know that the hate is focused on my persona and not on my work. My core role is not to be liked, but to ensure that the work we do is great and durable for the long-term health and growth of the army community. There is a deep, quiet satisfaction that comes from knowing the positions we take are unvarnished, rooted in principle, and focused on institutional necessity, not on a desire for applause or affirmation. In fact, if every hard decision we made were met with universal praise, it would signal that we were not challenging the status quo hard enough.
“The noise of hatred will inevitably fade; the sincere, principled foundations we lay are what must endure.”
I am perfectly content with the reality that some individuals, and even some armies, may genuinely dislike me. Their measure of a leader is often based on whether that leader serves their immediate interests. My measure of success, however, is solely the strength and resilience of the organization we are building. If our administration is defined by its unwavering integrity and its commitment to long-term stability, then I can absorb the resulting criticism without complaint. The noise of today will inevitably fade; the sincere, principled foundations we lay are what must endure. The work itself, the difficult, meaningful reform, is the only validation I require.
For the future leaders of our community: There will always be a small, minoritarian group that opposes you, criticizes you, or harbors resentment, no matter your intentions or actions. As Nietzsche wrote, “He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.” Some will always hate and resist, not out of reason, but out of their own nature. Do not let them define your path; act according to your principles, not according to the judgments of the perpetual critics. Stay strong! The well-being of the community relies on you. Carry on with your mission!
This is who I am and love to be. A faithful admin in fallen light. A bold admin in golden disguise. And this is solely the start of what is yet to come.
Edu14463
Chief Executive Producer
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Army Legend. Former Water Ninjas leader. Founder and Former Leader of the Elite Guardians of Club Penguin. Currently serving as Chief Executive Producer in Club Penguin Armies.