On doing domething, even when it feels small

By Ana Vladescu

Screenshot of the website we created for our project. We hope it inspires more Kosovar women and girls to share their experiences and lessons.

Throughout my time at AUC, I’ve often felt stuck between theory and action. I’m grateful for the education I’m receiving, one that challenges me intellectually, but I sometimes wonder what to do with all this knowledge. That question became especially relevant last year during the on-campus protests against the genocide in Gaza. I participated from a distance, but part of me questioned whether the protests were helping. Some students were annoyed or dismissive, and I worried that the actions, while well-intentioned, might only push people away from the cause. I’ve always believed that guilt makes a poor foundation for activism because it can lead to burnout, to bitterness, or to performative gestures that mean little in the end. And yet, when I heard students complain about the protests, I always defended them: at least they were trying. At least they were keeping the conversation alive. 

Even now, a year later, I have more questions than answers. What can I do in the face of injustice? How can I act meaningfully without jeopardising the life I’ve worked hard to build? And how do I do that while recognising the privilege I hold—the privilege to choose when and how to engage? It’s easy to be critical from the sidelines, but far more difficult to take action that feels both responsible and impactful. I often find myself caught in that tension: wanting to do something but feeling paralysed by doubt, uncertainty, or fear of doing it wrong.

These same questions resurfaced throughout this project. As we learned more about Kosovo, met with NGOs on the ground like New Social Initiative and UNMIK, and heard firsthand about the challenges they face, I felt that same familiar guilt. I wanted to help. I wanted to do something. But what? How? My group’s project—to create a website of children’s stories about strong women in Kosovo—sometimes felt a little silly. Was this really going to help anyone? Would it matter? Or would it fade into obscurity, like so many well-meaning school projects before it? 

But as we reached the final week, something shifted in me. My biggest takeaway is this: Do something. Even if it feels small. Even if it annoys people. Even if it seems naive or idealistic or a product of your youthful inexperience. If it’s thoughtful, meaningful, and done with care, then it’s not nothing. It matters. Because something is always better than nothing. If everyone waits for the perfect moment or the perfect plan, or assumes their contribution is too small to count, nothing will change. I think I finally understand how peace is built piece by piece. After all, that’s how Peace Lab Rwanda began: with Dieudonné’s initiative to invite the former Rwandan Ambassador to visit AUC in 2019. I wonder if he knew how his small effort would grow into something so much bigger, encompassing generations of AUC students. Maybe it’s cliché to say every action has consequences, even if we don’t see them until years later. But this project reminded me that clichés still hold truth. So I’m trying to hold onto this one: If you believe something matters, do something about it. Even if it’s just telling a story.