The Senior Exhibition

Each spring, something remarkable unfolds across the hallways, classrooms, and performance spaces of St. Mark’s. Seniors step away from textbooks and test prep, stand before younger Marksmen, and do something no exam can measure: they reveal themselves.

Commonly known as the “senior ex,” the Senior Exhibition has been a cornerstone of St. Mark’s culture since 1994, built on a simple but powerful belief that every boy has a story worth sharing. This graduation requirement asks seniors to create and deliver a ten-minute presentation on a subject of deep personal significance. Topics range widely, from competitive chess strategy to the science of brewing coffee to the lessons learned in athletics, but what unites them is authenticity. 

The program traces its origins to former headmaster Arnie Holtberg, who envisioned a community where seniors would model what it means to be an “ideal Marksman” — not just as star athletes or valedictorians, but as boys living out their full humanity. Today, the program is coordinated through the Upper School office, which oversees proposals, advisor pairings, and scheduling, but its purpose remains deeply personal. For William Atkinson ’95, who both leads the program and once participated in it, it marks a natural moment of reflection and contribution. “It’s a chance for seniors to share something about who they are,” Atkinson said, “and to give that back to the community as they close out their time here.” 

The process begins early, when students define their topic, audience, and faculty sponsor, then refine their ideas through weeks of rehearsal and revision. Advisors guide that work, helping students shape raw enthusiasm into something clear, purposeful, and audience-focused. “A presentation will look very different depending on whether the audience is second graders, sixth graders, or freshmen,” said Tinsley Silcox, a longtime advisor. That awareness is essential because the exhibition is not just a presentation: it is a form of mentorship. 

Seniors choose the audience they want to reach, reinforcing that connection. “It’s important for younger boys to see seniors and think, ‘I want to be like that one day,’” Atkinson said. “At the same time, seniors realize they’re not that different — they’ve had similar questions, experiences, and challenges.” 

Grading is pass-or-fail, but expectations are high. Faculty assess organization, delivery, and the ability to respond thoughtfully to questions — often the most unpredictable part of the experience. What elevates a presentation is depth: the extent to which a student understands not just his topic, but himself. For Riggs Bean ’26, whose exhibition focuses on songwriting, that meant slowing down a creative process that usually happens instinctively. “I had to actually understand my process so I could explain it,” he said — an exercise that deepened both his work and his self-awareness. 

That reflection has become increasingly central to the program, with a growing emphasis on character and leadership. Students are asked not only what they love, but how those passions have shaped them. “What are you trying to say? Why is it important?” Atkinson said. “And how has this helped you learn about yourself — about your character, your leadership, your path?” 

For some, that process leads to deeper questions. As Kayden Zhong ’26 reflected while preparing his exhibition, “What does it actually mean to be a good man? What does it mean to live well?” — a line of thinking that ultimately led him to center his talk on authenticity and the values that shape a life.

“There’s something powerful about a student being open and honest about how things didn’t go the way he expected,” Atkinson said. “And showing younger boys that it’s part of the journey.” 

Walk through campus in the winter and spring, and you’ll find seniors rehearsing in empty classrooms, refining their ideas with advisors, or practicing in front of friends. The nerves are real, but so is the support. “I had around 15 of my good friends there,” said Hank Vig ’26. “Seeing them support me was a great experience.” More importantly, the message extends beyond the room. “Everyone has a unique message to share,” Vig said. “Hopefully the audience took mine into consideration.” 

For Atkinson, who once stood on that same stage playing piano for his own exhibition, the program’s evolution reflects something larger than any single presentation. “There’s a continuity to it,” he said. “It gives boys a sense of place — of being part of something bigger — and a chance to give back before they leave.”