I didn’t expect peacebuilding to start with us. When I started Peace Lab, I thought I had a decent understanding of what peacebuilding looked like. I had already been part of Peace by Peace and was familiar with its work. And still, I imagined peace as something tied to signing treaties and other “visible” outcomes. What I’ve come to understand is that peace often unfolds differently, in a quieter, slower way, that is made up of moments that only later reveal how connected they are. That change in perspective built gradually, through conversations, through the project my group and I worked on and through our class sessions and meetings. I can’t point to one “aha” moment. If I had to conclude, I would describe this whole month as a slow shift, shaped by connection, and, of course, peace.
Whenever we were reminded that we couldn’t visit Kosovo, we felt disappointed. But it also pushed us to look beyond what we thought we’d find there. We already knew the country through a political lens. Now, we wanted to understand something else: how people connect and what their everyday lives look like. We ended up creating our magazine, Kosovo Konnect, that tries to reflect just that: a more personal view of a place we had only known from afar. At first, I was hesitant to call what we were doing “peacebuilding". We were interviewing and putting together magazine pages. It didn’t feel like something that fit the word. But when Anne told us that every one of us had been a peacebuilder this month, I knew she was right. It made me realise how much of peacebuilding is a process. It is made up of the choice to care and listen to people’s stories with an open mind.
The cover page of our magazine Kosovo Konnekt
Throughout this course, I kept coming back to the idea that peace is less of a destination and more of something in motion. Sometimes it looks like an interview where someone unexpectedly opens up. Or like a group meeting where we couldn’t agree but kept trying anyway. It looked like visiting the Kosovo Specialist Chambers and then talking through the day at the beach with classmates. These moments didn’t feel heavy or life-changing at the time. But together, they made space for something to shift. Before Peace Lab, I saw Kosovo mainly through conflict. I didn’t picture people living full, joyful lives. It sounds simple, but realising that people dance, make plans, and joke with their friends, just like we do here, was something I had to unlearn and relearn. I’m embarrassed to admit that I had been thinking this way, but now, I pay closer attention to the smaller stories that often don’t make headlines. I’ve also come to understand that connection is where peace often begins. Whether it’s with people from Kosovo or within us, peace needs space to grow. Let’s not think about fixing something right away, but more about staying present in the work, even when it feels unfinished.
I have to admit that what changed for me isn’t a clear answer or outcome. It’s a shift in how I think and how I reflect. I’m less focused on finding the “big” solutions and more interested in noticing the smaller ways peace takes shape: through space and connection. That feels less overwhelming, but also more honest. We might not change the world with one course or one project. But we do get to decide how we move through it. And if that includes more listening and more connection, then I think that’s something worth continuing.