Students from The Lab’s Politics & Performance course meet Cambodian artists in Phnom Penh
I had sunflowers in a vase by my window. I showed them to Sarah. “This is how I bring home with me to the Hilltop.” It was the end of our first In Your Shoes Zoom conversation, and I didn’t yet fully understand what the assignment was. This was the start of the spring semester in 2022, when classes were still virtual, and I was taking Derek and Cynthia’s Politics & Performance class. A class you had to apply to and get selected for.
I had sunflowers in a vase by my window. I showed them to Sarah. “This is how I bring home with me to the Hilltop.” It was the end of our first In Your Shoes Zoom conversation, and I didn’t yet fully understand what the assignment was. This was the start of the spring semester in 2022, when classes were still virtual, and I was taking Derek and Cynthia’s Politics & Performance class. A class you had to apply to and get selected for.
“Carolina, this has been great but we don’t usually take freshmen. I don’t want to get your hopes up,” Cynthia told me at the end of our interview.
A few weeks later, I got the acceptance email that changed my Georgetown trajectory.
I had no idea what The Lab was. Performing arts? The one play I could name off the top of my head was Romeo and Juliet. When Cynthia and Derek asked the class to introduce themselves, and talk about the last performance we experienced that moved us, my mind was blank. I made something up.
If you asked me the same question today, after being in The Lab’s sphere for the past three years, I would have a hard time choosing just one.
I was moved when hundreds of people showed up to march down Pennsylvania Avenue with Little Amal, and remind Congress of the humanity of millions of refugee children.
I was moved when I went with The Lab to Cambodia and saw artists who risked their lives to tell political stories, to preserve their artistic heritage, and to defy social norms.
I am moved every time I watch Here I Am, and hear Meli talking about the responsibility and relationship she has to her ancestors.
I am moved every time Fidaa strikes her drum and transports us with stories about her childhood and the folktales her grandma passed on to her.
I am moved every time I talk to Student Fellows about their passions, their family stories, and the people who inspire them.
I am moved when I hear my full name echoed back to me in an In Your Shoes circle.
And most of all, I am moved every time someone comes to an event, performance, or workshop feeling reluctant, skeptical, and curious, and leaves with a heart more open, a mind more challenged, and a conversation they will always remember with someone who was previously a stranger.
I’m forever grateful Cynthia and Derek decided to take a chance on me freshman year. It’s hard to leave once you experience The Lab’s magic. It’s why I became a Student Fellow my sophomore year. And why I was so excited to co-facilitate it my junior and senior year. It’s why graduation will not be a goodbye to this institute and the people who make it so special.
The Lab has given me the greatest gift of all: community. A place where there is always room for one more at the table. A place where “How are you?” is a meaningful question rather than a mere formality. A place that nurtures and echoes stories that cut across silos of information at a time we need it most.
A community that no amount of power can erase.
