Month: October 2025

Ceiba Farrell-Sultan
United World College USA
Las Vegas, New Mexico

Heads or tails. The toss of a coin. That’s the parlor game I played in the back of my head every time I walked into a picture-perfect American grocery store, aisles lined with Kraft mac and cheese and Wonder Bread. Should I be Mexican or American today? Should I put on concealer to hide my tan, tuck away my accent, my mom’s tamale recipes, my weekends filled with family, and slip into the version of me that blends in? Just another face at a football game, the version of me that’s the most comfortable for others. Or should I risk the stares, the jokes, the questions that made me want to shrink?

This summer in Spain, surrounded by the history of convivencia, where Christians, Muslims, and Jews built a society not by erasing differences but by letting them coexist, I found my answer. I didn’t have to choose between the two, I never did.

In Toledo, I stood in a synagogue that had once been a mosque, that had once been a church, and I thought about how identity isn’t something you pick once and never change, identity is something that shifts, expands, and carries every story that came before it. Walking through those narrow streets, I stopped feeling like my two cultures were at war with each other. I saw them instead as layers, like the tiles on the Alhambra, intricate and whole only when they are all in place. Being Mexican and American didn’t make me less of either, it made me more of both.

For the first time, I stopped apologizing for myself in my own head. In Spain, I was surrounded by people who understood, who, like me, had grown up balancing two worlds and two languages. Having had fluency in Spanish as a requirement for the program, every one of us carried pieces of Latin America woven into our childhood, abuelas who made pan dulce on Sundays, parents who switched from English to Spanish mid-scold, names that teachers stumbled over on the first day of school. With them, I didn’t have to translate myself or shrink my answers down for others to feel more comfortable. We laughed about the same inside jokes, theme songs from the same old cable cartoons, and shared the same quiet ache of feeling “too much” or “not enough.” And, for the first time, I felt like my reflection matched the person I’d always been inside.

The summer ended, but its lesson lingered, a quiet strength and new realization I could draw on whenever I needed it. The grocery store aisles didn’t feel like a coin toss anymore. I didn’t flinch when someone mispronounced my name or asked why I spoke Spanish “so well.”  Instead, I opened the book of who I was and read every page aloud, no longer erasing the parts I thought others wouldn’t understand. Instead of seeing my Mexican and American sides as halves pulling me in opposite directions, I started seeing them as a bridge, one that’s a gift instead of a curse, letting me move between worlds with ease, one that lets me belong in more than one place at once.

Now, I know that my voice is strongest when I speak from that bridge, when I let both cultures shape how I see, how I listen, and how I lead. SDC taught me that my identity isn’t a coin to be flipped, it’s a mosaic, and every piece not only belongs but shapes.

Lloyd Mensah
East Orange STEM Academy
East Orange, New Jersey

This summer, the best thing that happened to me was my trip to Spain, where I gained many meaningful relationships. While traveling through the beautiful cities of Madrid, Bilbao, and Vitoria, and even France, I got to know families, scholars, guides, and my group leader. It allowed me to discover that the most valuable part of friendship is the ability to learn from one another, and I did just that. I improved my Spanish, explored the history of Spain, and picked up life skills that led me to grow. I learned to be confident, to be myself, and to live with purpose.

Confidence shapes nearly everything we do, and I saw how it could change my own experience. As my journey began I was extremely nervous, it almost led to me being that “awkward kid on the side”. Then a group member approached me, filled with interest and enthusiasm towards us all. From there, we became friends and she mentioned she was also nervous but chose to step outside of her comfort zone. That moment showed me that being uncomfortable is not a weakness, it’s an opportunity to be courageous. Another member lived by the saying “YOLO,” and it reminded me not to get caught up in small worries, but to enjoy life fully. That taught me that confidence isn’t about pretending to be fearless, it’s about choosing to act even when you’re afraid.

I also learned the importance of decision-making and being true to myself. Many young people, including myself, struggle with making independent decisions or following the crowd because it’s easier but from that, we limit ourselves. I was constantly called out by my roommates in private because there were many times I made the wrong decisions. This taught me to own my decisions and learn from my mistakes. Aside from decision-making, SDC has encouraged me to reflect deeply on who I am, starting from the application process to now. I’ve been able to uncover a lot about myself and as to what makes me unique.

This trip reminded me that we all have a purpose in life and that we always have a why. At first, I thought I was in Spain to simply have fun, relax, and explore. But I quickly realized my experience was bigger than me. As an SDC participant, I represented my school, my community, and my family. I was there to learn and bring back what I’ve learned to my community. Then it came to my attention that you go through experiences so that others can learn from it. The homestay families showed me what true generosity was. They gave so much love and care, volunteered their time, efforts, just to give strangers an opportunity to learn from their daily experiences the easy way. My host mom taught me the basics of swimming, I went to the gym with some of the other host families, we celebrated birthdays where I learned you get to pull the ear of the birthday boy or girl of their new age, we learned to play traditional sports of the Basque country such as Pelota, strength sports such as Sokatira, Lasto altxatzea, Txinga eramatea, played basketball and soccer with local kids, and more. None of this was required of them, yet they did it freely. I want to be a person to give back to the community, do more than expected, show love and care, as what was done for me. I believe that’s my purpose.

This summer changed me. It increased my desire to continue to grow, to step outside of my comfort zone, and to approach life with confidence and curiosity. I am forever grateful for this opportunity. It reminded me to show unconditional love and care even when it can’t be reciprocated back. I now have the confidence to take risks, independence to make my own decisions, openness to learning from others, and the drive to give back to my community. I am forever grateful. Thank you.

Lianny Rodriguez
William M. Davies Career and Technical High School
Onward We Learn
Pawtucket, Rhode Island

Reflections on Humanities, Art, and the Need for Empathy in Today’s World

This summer, I had the privilege of traveling to Spain, where I explored the intersection of social justice and art history. During my travels through Andalusia, I visited various landmarks, museums, and cathedrals, each with its own rich history. As I admired the stunning architecture, my professor shared the stories of religious and racial persecution that minorities had suffered in these very spaces. I realized that while it’s easy to admire art and architecture, it’s often more difficult to fully comprehend the history and significance behind them. Understanding the past is important, but seeing its effects with your own eyes makes all the difference.

Art, throughout history, has always been political. Artists have long used their work to comment on the world around them—whether in support of or in protest against their governments. Today, this can be seen in music, with lyrics that clearly express political views. Historically, though, artists had to be more subtle, often creating works that were indirect but nonetheless powerful. Pablo Picasso, one of the most famous artists in history, was known for his bold political statements in art. One of the most impactful pieces he created was Guernica, a large black-and-white painting that depicts the horrors of the Spanish Civil War. The painting, commissioned for the 1937 Paris World’s Fair, is still considered one of the most powerful anti-war symbols in the world. Picasso’s intention was simple: to make viewers feel the suffering that war brings, regardless of language or nationality.

As a student at a technical school, I see firsthand how heavily the focus is placed on STEM subjects. This made my summer course on art and humanities even more meaningful. The trip opened my eyes to a history that isn’t often taught in schools, showing me that, in many ways, our world has not changed much since the 1940s. The current political climate mirrors the fascist periods of history more than we would like to admit. But if I could ask global leaders one question, it would be: “Where would our world be if we focused more on empathy and less on calculation? What if we saw people as human beings rather than numbers on a chart?”

While technological advancements have helped society progress, we still witness devastating conflicts. No one should endure the suffering that Palestinians in Gaza or Ukrainians in their ongoing conflict with Russia are experiencing. This trip reminded me that we have the potential for progress—if the people in power start thinking more with their hearts than their heads.

Through my travels and experiences, I’ve learned that our world would be so much better if we embraced empathy and compassion. Art, history, and the humanities provide the lens through which we can understand our shared humanity and build a more peaceful future.

Carolina Ceja
Basalt High School
The Buddy Program
Silt, Colorado

These are the Moments

The best part of my summer was exploring an extraordinary part of Mexico—a journey that felt like uncovering a hidden treasure. Each day brought something new: a chance to immerse myself in Mayan history, discover breathtaking landscapes, and experience the warmth of Mexican hospitality.

One of the most unforgettable moments was swimming in the Sacred Cenotes. These crystal-clear pools held deep cultural meaning for the Mayans, and being there felt magical. I remember laughing while trying to catch fish with my hands, a simple but joyful moment that made the experience even more special.

Staying with a host family in Valladolid was another highlight. I was nervous at first, but they immediately welcomed me with open arms—and even greeted me with a balloon that read “Bienvenida Carolina.” Every day, they shared their world with me: taking me to local churches, nearby cenotes, and parks where we enjoyed ice cream together. I’ll never forget the smell of fresh food in the mornings, or walking to the neighborhood Oxxo for snacks while chatting with my host sisters. Saying goodbye was heartbreaking—we had become like family, and tears flowed as I boarded the bus. I know I’ll return one day.

Mexico also gave me lifelong friendships. I bonded with fellow travelers like Chloe, who always seemed to know what I needed without words, and Daniela, with whom I shared endless late-night conversations. We came from different parts of the country, but the connections we built in Mexico felt unshakable.

This journey left a lasting mark on me. Exploring the Yucatán Peninsula opened my eyes to the beauty of Mexico’s culture, history, and geography—and to the joy of shared experiences. I will always carry these memories: swimming in sacred waters, walking through vibrant towns, laughing with new friends, and feeling at home in a family far from my own.

I may never be eighteen in Mexico with this same group again, but those moments will stay with me forever. They are the kind of memories that remind me how exciting, meaningful, and life-changing travel can be.

Sadman Sami
Hillside Arts & Letters Academy
The Opportunity Network
Jamaica, New York

A Journey of Architectural Marvels and Personal Growth

When embarking on a journey to explore the architectural wonders that defined the Venetian Empire, I anticipated that I would be fascinated by grandeur and historical significance. Little did I know that this adventure would lead me to a deeper appreciation of cultural diversity, an evolution of my perspective, and an unwavering commitment to embrace the transformative power of knowledge.

The Venetian Empire, with its vast history and artistry, unfolded before me as I traced its legacy across Italy, Slovenia, Croatia, and the Vatican State. Each inspiring structure, whether it was the Colosseum’s imposing amphitheater or the intricate mosaics of St. Peter’s Basilica, carried the whispers of an empire that once reigned. These sites were not just monuments; they were living testaments to the creativity and ingenuity of human endeavor across centuries.

However, my journey was not confined to architectural marvels alone. The profound impact of my time with a host family in Trieste cannot be overstated. Immersed in their everyday lives, I confronted the challenges of cultural etiquette and language barriers head on. These interactions often challenged me, compelling me to navigate through unfamiliar customs and find common ground through shared experiences. As I stumbled through conversations, embraced local cuisine, and witnessed the daily rhythms of life, I discovered the beauty of human connection that transcends language. Bonds were formed that surpassed cultural differences, and in those moments, I understood the essence of global unity.

This cultural immersion was not just about understanding differences; it was a catalyst for personal growth. My experience in Trieste taught me the power of empathy and humility. The patience my host family extended as I fumbled through conversations and the genuine warmth with which they welcomed me into their home were a lesson in acceptance. These lessons resonate deeply with me, urging me to be more open-minded and compassionate in my interactions, regardless of cultural or linguistic differences.

The journey didn’t just transform my interactions; it also transformed me. I emerged from this experience with a renewed sense of purpose and a commitment to knowledge as a force for positive change. This trip wasn’t just about admiring architecture; it was about cultivating an understanding of the world’s rich tapestry and my place within it. It was about recognizing the power of diverse perspectives and how they enrich our lives.

As I reflect on those transformative weeks, I am reminded of the countless conversations that expanded my horizons. Just as the architecture of the Venetian Empire is built on intricate details, so too is our collective human experience. Every interaction, every shared story, every connection we make contributes to the mosaic of our existence. As I step forward into the future, I carry with me not only memories of Venetian architecture but also the echoes of laughter, the warmth of shared meals, and the depth of human connection. My journey was a reminder that in a world often divided, we have the power to build bridges that span cultures, languages, and backgrounds. It is with this realization that I am inspired to champion openness, understanding, and compassion, wherever my path may lead.

Gabriela Alonso
Middlesex School
Prep for Prep
Corona, New York

Learning from Italy: The Power of Sustainable Food

“Welcome to Italy!” flashed across my phone as I stepped off the plane, leaving behind my comfort zone and stepping into an entirely new world. For many, Italy brings to mind pasta, gelato, and picture-perfect Instagram posts captioned “Ciao.” But for me, Italy came to mean something much deeper: growth and community.

These words took root in my mind after meeting Julia, an instructor at the University of Gastronomic Sciences in Pollenzo. On our first day, she asked each of us to choose a card with an image. I picked one that showed fruits and vegetables surrounding a calculator—an image that immediately made me think about food accessibility.

The card reminded me of home, where inflation after the pandemic made fresh produce harder to afford, and organic food often costs even more. In low-income communities, these barriers push families toward cheap fast food, creating long-term health consequences. When I shared this perspective, Julia listened closely, her eyes widening as my peers nodded in agreement. In that moment, I realized how deeply food systems—local and global—shape our lives, and I knew I needed to bring change back home.

Traveling outside the United States for the first time opened my eyes to the connection between sustainability and health. In Italy, plastic use is restricted, waste is carefully sorted, and families often grow their own produce or buy directly from local farmers. Back home, I’m left questioning whether fruits and vegetables at the grocery store have been chemically treated or shipped across oceans. Thanks to Julia’s guidance, my family now shops differently—seeking seasonal produce, asking about farming practices, and supporting local growers whenever possible.

What struck me most was how everyday choices can reshape entire communities. At the university dining hall, waste was separated into five categories—plastic, glass, paper, compost, and general trash. Returning to New York, I noticed my building had five bins as well—but mostly duplicates of plastic and trash. Inspired by Italy, I asked my landlord to add compost and glass bins instead. Within a week, the change spread not only through my building but into neighboring ones, proving that small shifts can create ripple effects.

Spending five weeks in Italy showed me how culture, sustainability, and community are interconnected. It also gave me a vision of what my own community could become: a place where healthy, sustainably sourced food is accessible, and where waste is treated as a shared responsibility. Traveling abroad was a privilege, but it came with a responsibility—to bring back knowledge, spark conversations, and inspire action.

Change begins with small steps. And in a city as vast as New York, even small steps can multiply into a powerful movement. My experience in Italy affirmed my commitment to helping create a healthier, more sustainable future—not just for myself, but for the community I call home.

Subah Habib
Transit Tech Career and Technical Education High School
SEO Scholars Program
Brooklyn, New York

Where Independence Met Belonging

Growing up in New York City all my life, I always felt like I was surrounded by
possibilities, but also held back by routines and expectations. Living in an immigrant Brown
household, the city was always seen as the “American Dream,” a place where success seemed
possible—but I hadn’t really felt what independence could be. Coming into my junior year
summer, I wanted an experience that would push me out of my comfort zone, where I could
explore on my own and see what I was truly capable of. SDC’s Canada: Glaciers to the Sea
ended up being exactly that.

From the moment we landed in Vancouver, I felt both nervous and excited. Living on
UBC’s campus, exploring the city, walking the seawall, biking around, and visiting museums
gave me small glimpses of independence. I loved learning about First Nations culture at the
Museum of Anthropology, and celebrating Canada Day was such a unique experience. Even
simple moments, like wandering Granville Island or laughing with my group over ice cream,
reminded me that I could navigate new spaces on my own—and enjoy it.

The program really shifted when we traveled north to Cheakamus Centre and Squamish.
Living in a traditional longhouse, learning indigenous skills like weaving and cooking, rafting,
rock climbing, and camping pushed me in ways I didn’t expect. I had to rely on myself and my
group, from pitching tents to building fires, and every success felt meaningful. These experiences
didn’t just teach me survival skills—they taught me patience, teamwork, and trust, not just in
others but in myself.

The three-day hiking and camping expedition in Garibaldi Provincial Park was by far the
toughest but most rewarding part of the trip. Hiking over 40 kilometers, sleeping in tents, sliding
down snowy slopes, and swimming in icy glacial water pushed me physically and mentally. I
remember laughing and screaming at the same time while sliding down the alpine snow—it was
terrifying and thrilling all at once. Waking up next to glacial lakes, surrounded by mountains and
birds, made me feel alive in a way the city never could. I left that part of the program feeling
proud of what I could do, and more confident in myself than ever before.

Along the way, I learned so much about climate and the environment, which tied directly
into my interest in climate justice. Seeing the glaciers, rivers, and forests up close gave me a real
sense of why protecting these spaces matters. It also made me reflect on the bigger picture—how
our actions affect the world, and how I want to be part of creating change.

The friendships I made on this trip are something I’ll never forget. Late-night talks,
joking while setting up tents, cheering each other on during hikes—we became a family. These
were people I probably wouldn’t have met otherwise, but the bond we formed was immediate
and real. Sharing those highs, lows, and laughs made the experience even more meaningful, and I
know these connections will last a lifetime.

Looking back, this program gave me so much more than I expected. I came hoping to
challenge myself and explore independence, and I left with confidence, lifelong friendships,
unforgettable memories, and a deeper understanding of the world. SDC Canada taught me what
it really feels like to step out of my comfort zone, trust myself, and grow in ways I didn’t know I
could. It’s an experience I’ll carry with me forever.