Get excited about our new mayor, Philly. But don’t let our enthusiasm cloud our expectations.

After eight years of living through what’s too often felt like a leadership void in our city, Philadelphians could be forgiven for being a bit over the top during Mayor Cherelle Parker’s inauguration ceremony.

After all, there were more than enough milestones to go around when Parker publicly took the oath of office at the Met on Tuesday, a day after doing so privately: She is the first woman, the fourth African American, and the 100th mayor of our city all rolled into one. Not only that, but she’s a daughter of Philadelphia, whose lived experience reflects that of so many others in our complex, maddening, beleaguered, and ever-hopeful city.

Long before Parker, 51, became a skilled politician, she was born to a single, teenage mother, and her father was largely absent from her life. She was raised by her grandparents — one of whom worked as a domestic; the other, a disabled Navy veteran — who were at times on public assistance. She was the first in her family to graduate from college. And after a political career that’s taken her from the General Assembly to City Council, she’s now the chief executive of the nation’s sixth-largest city.

So I felt it when Sheryl Lee Ralph performed a poem at the inauguration that served as a reminder of why she’s an Emmy Award-winning entertainer.

“The city, Phil-a-del-phiaaaaaaaa, will echo her historic name, a testament of courage, forever a flame in the annals of time,” Ralph said. “Her story will be etched.”

I mean, let’s hope, right? In so many ways, her success means Philadelphia’s success.

But maybe let’s let her serve at least one full day in office before we get too far ahead of ourselves, or the history books — especially when, at several points in her hour-long speech, Parker herself repeatedly asked us to do the same thing.

“I am not Superwoman,” she said at one point.

“I’m asking you to help me,” she pleaded at another.

“I cannot do this alone,” she noted matter-of-factly.

Again, I don’t blame those in attendance for leaning into their enthusiasm — it’s been a long few years. An inauguration is, by definition, celebratory, hopeful. We deserve some joy.

But we also need to remember that Parker is just one elected official at the beginning of a long journey in which she’s sure to have some stumbles (she’s already had a few). The best way we can support her is to ask her — and one another — tough questions, because it doesn’t do anyone any good, least of all Parker, if we become so excited about her many milestones that we don’t continue to push her to be the best mayor she can be.

Saying that will probably make me an “AOP” in the mayor’s book, a new Parker-ism she introduced in her inauguration speech for an “expert articulator of problems.” She dislikes people who like to point out, for example, that Philly is the poorest big city in the nation, but are “very, very, very short on delivering solutions.”

I get that.

She also warned against “throwing shade on my Philly shine.”

But it’s not shade to call on residents to balance their excitement about Philadelphia’s newest leader with some constructive truth-telling.

It’s not shade to hold public officials accountable — especially those we truly want to succeed.

It’s not shade to hold public officials accountable — especially those we truly want to succeed.

It’s not shade to say that hope and faith are good and necessary, but outsized expectations set everyone up for failure.

It’s not shade to resist prematurely declaring her its savior, because Parker is just one person — a woman, a mother, a politician who has made some promising decisions — including doing something on her first day that former Mayor Jim Kenney wouldn’t during either of his terms: declaring a public safety emergency.

Her success, and the success of our city, depends on us putting the most hope and the most faith in ourselves to expect the very best from every city official — on their first day, and on their last. And that includes our esteemed Madam Mayor.