Year in Review: Year Four

Among the colorful murals, stickers and graffiti on the East Side Gallery section of the Berlin
Wall is an African proverb that writes many small people who in many small places do many
small things can alter the face of the world. While it is not as outstanding visually as much of
the wall I did not happen to note it until my fourth trip to the long, concrete stretch of history
its small message packs a lesson that is worth not only hearing again and again, but practicing
day after day.

Like my fourth trip to the Berlin Wall between Warschauer Strae and Ostbahnhof stations, it
took me four years of university to discover what I could do as a small person in small places
and how to do it. I returned to the University of Cincinnati after over a year and a half, acutely
aware that I would be leaving again for a new country in five short months. Wanting to make
the most of my time to reconnect with the people I had not seen in a long time and to find a job
for my last two co-op rotations in Germany, I promised to take the semester lightly. I broke that
promise after one month, rejoining the office of Senator Sherrod Brown, helping to launch a
new student organization, and becoming increasingly engaged in other organizations on
campus. I remember feeling like I was falling back into old habits, suddenly being overburdened
with schoolwork and other obligations while my job search crept slowly nowhere. I felt trapped
by the city, by the people with whom I surrounded myself, and my own inability to put barriers
on myself and my commitments.

In retrospect, this was not entirely accurate as I was spending increasingly more time with two
very new elements in my Cincinnati-based life: my sisters. My youngest sister began her first
year at DAAP in the fall, and to share this common bond with her felt like a fresh restart for our
relationship. We had not always gotten along growing up due to believing that we were too
different or I was too mature to be able to be friends with my sister. She was a fearsome back-
talker, a girly-girl, lazy, and spoiled. Being with her at UC taught be that this perception was
completely wrong: she was a strong woman, an athlete, talented and hard-working, and
dedicated to her passions. My twin sister was in Over the Rhine for the semester, working with
the Homeless Coalition and writing for their newspaper, Streetvibes. Through her my eyes were
opened to issues of gentrification, racism, and discrimination in the Cincinnati area beyond my
previous awareness. Before I had felt like a stranger in Cincinnati, I felt much more connected
to the wider community in understanding and engaging in issues and topics of importance to
my friends and neighbors. She was an inspiration to always look for the common ground in any
community and to find ways to be impactful in a positive way, in any place I found myself.

On November 9 following the election of Donald Trump I felt the surge of being a stranger
again, not only in Cincinnati, but in my own country. I was sad, and I was ashamed that I could
not understand my country, my neighbors, my friends who had voted for him, or who had not
voted at all. I went to work with eyes sore from tears to find equally disappointed and disturbed
coworkers, fearful of what kind of phone calls we would be receiving from our red-state-
constituents. But instead of hateful, prideful calls to chastise, I heard voices of frightened
Americans who felt the same way I did: that we had not seen reality, that we had never done
enough to support our values and beliefs politically or in our communities, and that finally we
recognized the urgency of now. I picked up my younger sister, who was still crying, and my twin
who had been alone all day, and we found solidarity together with laughs, tears, and love.

At the end of the same month I was faced with a dilemma: a choice between an unpaid
internship with a Berlin-based nonprofit called Humanity in Action, or a paid co-op with GE. I
believe if it had not been for my sisters, for the wakeup call I had just weeks prior, or for the
permission from my parents, I would not find myself at the end of Humanity in Actions
International Conference in Berlin, hugging my boss and supervisor who have not only become
role models, but also have come to hold a dear place in my heart. From my first day in the
office I realized I was surrounded by inspiring people who, at the end of the day, are just small
people doing small things like my sister in Over the Rhine. At this conference, we were joined
by 250 of the over 1,600 strong network of Humanity in Action staff, fellows and friends sharing
their experiences and plans for small actions around the world.

To say its the little things in life that make something enjoyable is perhaps the abbreviated
version of what the African proverb on the Berlin Wall was trying to make. These small people
doing small things, I realized, are the ones who do truly important, powerful work. From a one-
man show highlighting the environment of gun violence in the US, to organizing the first
feminist NGO in Poland, to simply treating an intern who comes to Germany without any
academic study relating to humanities or human rights with respect, trust, and value, the little
things are what impact us the most. They must never be forgotten, underestimated, or
disregarded.

In August as I return again to the University of Cincinnati for my final year, I will be looking for
the little things and ways to make my time in Cincinnati not one trapped by circumstance or
situation, but one that embraces both.