My experience as a Human Fraternity fellow has been valuable in many ways, both during the preparatory virtual sessions and throughout our week in Jakarta. From the start, the team at the Berkley Center cultivated a space for authenticity, exploration, and grace. Although we were scattered across the globe, for an hour each week we came together virtually to speak, and more importantly, to listen to one another’s stories. In a post-COVID-19 world, the ability to connect and truly listen, even through screens, is a skill that requires practice and intention.
These virtual sessions were far from casual check-ins. They were structured, focused, and taught us the In Your Shoes framework, a listening and sharing strategy rooted in theater. By assuming another person’s role, embodying their tone, cadence, and words from a conversation transcript, I was forced to inhabit their experience physically and emotionally. This practice created a profound sense of empathy and transformed the way I understand perspective, shaping not only my interactions in the fellowship but also my artistic practice.
In Jakarta, the in-person component of the fellowship added layers of insight that were both tangible and unpredictable. Workshops framed around Resetting the Table provided concrete skills for dialogue, such as following the speaker’s meaning and identifying signposts in conversation, techniques I had not encountered in nineteen years of schooling.
Beyond the workshops, our visits to sites such as the Istiqlal Mosque and Muhammadiyah Hospital broadened my understanding of Islam and its role in 21st-century Indonesian society. I had never entered a mosque before, and the Istiqlal Mosque challenged my preconceptions. Unlike a Christian church, it lacked pews and altars, and the highly physical prayer service demanded focus, devotion, and an incredible sense of communal participation. One moment that stayed with me was when worshippers on the ground floor rushed forward to fill empty gaps between them, a powerful embodiment of community.
Similarly, the Muhammadiyah Hospital expanded my conception of health and wellness. Unlike the sterile, secular hospitals I was familiar with in North America, this Muslim hospital provided services that integrated both physical and spiritual care, reflecting the Indonesian principle of Unity in Diversity. As a student of global health, this holistic approach challenged me to think beyond purely physical measures of wellbeing.
Finally, I know that the impact of this fellowship will continue to reveal itself in ways I cannot yet predict. While I do not yet know my professional path, I am confident that the skills and insights I gained—from dialogue and empathy to observing models of pluralism—will prove valuable in any context. In a world marked by both profound diversity and deep division, these lessons are not only relevant, they are essential.
