Category: Culture

  • Smog threatens sites that survived centuries of onslaught

    Smog threatens sites that survived centuries of onslaught

    The city of Delhi, capital of India, promises to be a place that lives simultaneously in the present and past. Delhi contains seven cities within it, layered one over the other through centuries of rule, conquest and reinvention. But its future depends on whether its people and government can stave off a new invader: the dust and particulate matter caused by pollution.

    Delhi in the present is a story of traffic-clogged roads, glass-and-steel high-rises and a cosmopolitan population of nearly 22 million people.

    The past lingers in stone and marble, in monuments such as the Red Fort, Jama Masjid and Humayun’s Tomb. In Purani Dilli, or Old Delhi — the last great Mughal capital of Shah Jahan, known as Shahjahanabad — some of the world’s finest heritage structures sit amid dense markets, homes and roads.

    Yet the people who live in this city of so much history struggle to breathe and the buildings and monuments that have withstood hundreds of years of turmoil are now being attacked by the dust particles in the pollution generated from industrial plants and cars.

    From October to February, Delhi’s average Air Quality Index (AQI) routinely crosses 400 — well into the “severe” category. At some monitoring stations, it has spiked above 1,000, levels considered hazardous even for short exposure.

    Smoke on sandstone

    The reasons behind this pollution are complex and cumulative. An analysis by the Centre of Science and Environment, a public research organization in Delhi, has repeatedly found that vehicular emissions contribute from 20 to 40% of the pollution over the last decade. Before 2020, PM2.5 — fine particulate matter that is a major pollutant — had been decreasing but since then has increased.

    In addition, the seasonal stubble burning in neighbouring states releases massive quantities of smoke and fly ash, which creates wind funnels into the city. Construction dust, coal-based power generation and the widespread use of solid fuels add further layers to an already toxic mix.

    This pollution does not stop at human lungs. It settles on stone, reacts chemically with moisture and slowly eats away at Delhi’s monuments. Sulphur dioxide and nitrogen oxides in the air combine with rain and humidity to form acidic compounds. These interact with building materials — particularly sandstone and limestone — causing surface erosion, salt crystallisation and structural weakening.

    A June 2025 scientific study, an Indo-Italian collaboration, documented one of the clearest signs of this damage: the formation of a thick black crust on parts of the Red Fort.

    This is the same monument from which the Indian Prime Minister addresses the nation every year on Independence Day in August. The monument is of both cultural and political significance and modern pollutants are challenging its heritage.

    Restoring the Red Fort

    The crust on the Red Fort is largely composed of gypsum (calcium sulphate), formed when sulphur compounds from pollution react with calcium-based components on stone surfaces. The study found that these crusts trap moisture and pollutants, eventually flaking off and pulling original stone material with them.

    Eleonora Balliana, a conservation scientist trained in stone restoration and chemistry, was part of the research collaboration that examined these processes.

    “In comparison to European levels, the area of New Delhi has high levels of pollution based on the recorded environmental data available by the local air quality monitoring stations,” she said during her field visits to Delhi. “The levels of sulphur next to particulate [PM2.5, PM10, etc.] compounds were extremely high. It is not surprising that black crusts form so quickly here.”

    Balliana notes that Delhi’s monuments are particularly vulnerable because many are built with sedimentary stones like red sandstone.

    “These stones are layered, almost like an onion,” she explained. “Water and pollutants penetrate easily between layers, salts crystallise underneath and eventually the stone begins to peel and fall.”

    Protecting the Taj Mahal

    Rob Inkpen, an independent consultant who specializes in conservation of historical sites, said that the dangers of deterioration of the Red Fort was established back in 2007 when it was first deemed a UNESCO World Heritage Site. At the time, the International Council on Monuments and Sites, a non-governmental organisation working to conserve and protect cultural heritage sites around the world, highlighted the need for a comprehensive conservation management plan for it.

    India’s most famous monument offers a cautionary parallel. The Taj Mahal, built by Shah Jahan as a mausoleum for his wife Mumtaz Mahal, began turning visibly yellow in the early 2000s. Pollution from nearby industries, traffic and the polluted Yamuna River was identified as the culprit.

    To protect the Taj, the government created the Taj Trapezium Zone, a restricted area around the monument where polluting industries are banned and vehicle movement is regulated.

    Has it worked? Partially. More needs to be done, several experts say.

    Globally, heritage sites are also showing signs of stress, though in different ways. In Europe, climate-driven moisture, heatwaves and freeze–thaw cycles have degraded stone and wood structures.

    Germany and Denmark, for instance, have experimented with traffic restrictions, buffer zones and continuous maintenance regimes. However, as Balliana points out, solutions that work in Europe cannot simply be copied in India.

    “The scale, the climate and the pollution load are completely different,” she said.

    Climate change makes conservation a challenge.

    Climate change compounds these challenges. A major 2025 global study found that nearly 80% of UNESCO World Heritage sites already experience damaging climate stress from heat and moisture extremes.

    In Asia, including India, a significant share of sites face dual stress from stone and wood materials, driven by intense rainfall events, rising temperatures and swings in humidity.

    Experts, including Inkpen and Balliana, agree that regular maintenance, scientific monitoring, reducing traffic around heritage zones, expanding green buffers and implementing broader air-quality reforms are all necessary.

    “The science is solid, the monitoring exists, but the real issue is whether the surrounding environment is being made any less hostile to the monument,” Inkpen said.

    Balliana is clear about priorities. “Climate change is worrying, but in Delhi, pollution is more severe right now,” she said.

    Heavy rains and heat accelerate decay, but it is air pollution that drives the rapid formation of black crusts and chemical corrosion.

    Delhi’s monuments have survived empires, invasions and centuries of change. For Inkpen, whether these monuments can survive the modern combination of pollution and climate stress may depend on the city’s ability to clean its air.

    “Dividing a complex problem into manageable ‘chunks’ that you can answer with specific methods is not unusual,” Inkpen said. “And often, overarching answers are achieved once they are integrated.”


    Questions to consider:

    1. In what different ways are World Heritage Sites showing signs of stress around the world?

    2. Why might conservation solutions that work in Europe not work in India?

    3. What historic sites have you been to and what condition were they in?

     

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  • Celebrating Faculty Strengths and Differences: A Positive Strategy for Thriving Academia – Faculty Focus

    Celebrating Faculty Strengths and Differences: A Positive Strategy for Thriving Academia – Faculty Focus

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  • Celebrating Faculty Strengths and Differences: A Positive Strategy for Thriving Academia – Faculty Focus

    Celebrating Faculty Strengths and Differences: A Positive Strategy for Thriving Academia – Faculty Focus

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  • The good and bad of roaming the world

    The good and bad of roaming the world

    In six months I will move again. It will be my seventh move in less than two years.

    I’m not homesick for Calgary, Canada, where I started this journey. But I am tired of searching for new friendships and, sometimes, of carrying more clothes — and emotions — than I can fit into two suitcases

    When I try to describe what moving around is like, I remember one moment. It was my second day in Peru, and everywhere around me were mountains of sand. Not a single plant in sight, not even a cactus.

    The sun was strong and I felt the beginnings of a sunburn. After multiple stops and a wild dune buggy ride through the desert where I held on for dear life, I made it to the top of one of the sand dunes. I moved around to the other side and looked down. There it was: Oasis de la Huacachina, a shimmering pool of water surrounded by palm trees.

    The wind was blowing harshly. In that moment, I was grateful that my face was covered with the brightly coloured bandana I had bought from a vendor who was upset I could pay only in American dollars and warned me he would charge me more. I hadn’t had enough time to convert money to Peruvian soles.

    This is the cost of not being prepared with cash in the right currency for unexpected purchases that happen on a trip.

    Preparing for the unexpected

    Being a nomad is like going through a desert, trying to be as prepared as possible only to be faced with the unexpected — strong winds blowing sand in your face and getting overcharged for the things you didn’t know you would need.

    But once you get to the top of the sand dune and look down at the oasis, you appreciate the journey you’ve made.

    The nomadic life isn’t as romantic as the internet paints it to be. Between the excitement of new places and adventures is the challenge of creating and maintaining a sense of community.

    This journey started back in 2023 in Calgary. I was having dinner with friends and talking about the awful job market and how I’d managed to land only remote work on temporary contract.

    “You know, I think I’m probably going to leave Calgary soon,” I heard myself say.

    Embarking on a journey

    I had absolutely no plan for how that was going to happen. But almost a year later I got married. My husband had finished his first year of residency and needed to move for training opportunities in various cities. We would spend only one to three months in each city before moving on.

    Like most young adults, I left my hometown to start something new. The packing part was easy. The hard part was saying goodbye to the familiarity of Calgary — my family, friends, the parks I visited regularly and my favourite cafés.

    The journey began in Calgary, and carried us to Kingston, a town on Lake Ontario, for four months, from where we relocated to Montréal for one month. We moved to Toronto for three months, where we then traded the snowy weather for the warm desert in Lima, Peru for just over two months. From there, we returned to Toronto for another three months before arriving in Baltimore in the U.S. state of Maryland.

    As we moved from place to place over the course of 13 months, I realized I wasn’t homesick. Instead, I was weighed down by the things I’d grown so attached to. With each move, I faced this dilemma: Pack them up again or let them go before starting over again.

    After almost four months in Kingston, the time had come to pack up again. There was stuff everywhere. Bags of clothes sat on the living-room floor and overfilled boxes of household items covered the kitchen floor.

    What you pack and what you leave

    I couldn’t take everything with me, yet as I was folding clothes I found that my suitcases weren’t filling. The donation bags seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. At that point, I was repulsed by the number of clothes I had. Did I really need four pairs of jeans? In normal circumstances, my answer would have been yes. Then, I needed functionality and I didn’t know how to achieve that.

    What was replaceable if I later changed my mind?

    I was nostalgic as I sifted through the piles — recalling the memories attached to those items. “They’re just things,” I told myself. I found a folder filled with cards from friends and families. I didn’t have it in me to throw them out, so I stuffed them in my backpack. It wasn’t like they were replaceable items you can buy at a store.

    The worst part of moving so frequently is that distance doesn’t make the heart grow fonder. It makes communication challenging and if you can’t catch someone by phone, many things — life updates and check-ins — are lost through text messages.

    The best part of moving so frequently is you get to be a tourist while living like a local: You have the best of both worlds. You learn your neighbourhood so well you find shortcuts to get to your favourite places. You earn the right to learn about local gems and can still visit the cliché tourist spots without feeling the embarrassment a local would. That was the highlight of my month in Montreal — I’d finish work and hop on the subway to explore. Every day was its own adventure, trying new restaurants, shopping at local grocery stores and catching up with work colleagues in the area.

    Finding meaning in new places

    I celebrated my birthday in Montreal for the first time outside of my hometown. I’m not much of a birthday person, but I was disappointed that many of my friends had forgotten my birthday. On a positive note, some friends did remember, and those birthday text messages were special. I decided to celebrate with some “restaurant hopping,” trying a savoury meal at one restaurant, going for dessert at another and trying interesting snacks all in the same night. It was the first time I tried ramen, a Japanese noodle soup, and the first time I ordered in French.

    The month flew by and it was time to move to Toronto. The good news is I hadn’t fully unpacked, because I knew that my time in Montreal was short. I somehow did make friends, but we didn’t keep in touch after I moved.

    For some reason, surface-level friendships were easier than having to worry about whether people would want to keep in touch, and I wouldn’t feel the pressure of having to reach out or go through the cycle of feeling disappointed if they wouldn’t get back to me. I was still grieving how many of my close friendships in Calgary had gone static.

    A few weeks later, we moved to Toronto and I joined a running club. I was shy at first, but I slowly warmed up and made friends. I didn’t bother to take my new friends’ phone numbers or make plans outside of the running club, because I knew I would soon be leaving. One of my best friends in Calgary had a baby girl during my time in Toronto and I couldn’t visit over the holidays to celebrate because I was preparing for my next move.

    For some reason, deciding what stays and what goes never gets easier. You just get better at the time management part of it and start earlier — or stay up later getting the job done. We were packing until 3 a.m. on the day we were leaving for Lima, Peru, where my husband was going to take a tropical medicine course. A few hours later, we boarded the flight.

    Meeting people in Peru

    Lima is one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever visited. It’s a desert that sits on the Pacific coast, offering the best of both worlds: an ocean and a stunning oasis.

    By this point, my work contract had ended and could not be renewed due to budget changes. I was initially worried that I would be bored or miss out on professional growth. I decided that it would instead be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to try new activities, travel and reflect on what I wanted my professional career to look like.

    I expected to encounter many English speakers in Lima, because it was the capital, but I was mistaken. I didn’t want to rely on Google Translate for basic conversations because I wanted to immerse myself in the culture and everyday life. So I enrolled in Spanish-language classes.

    I met people from all over the world who had come to Peru for all kinds of reasons, including business, backpacking across South America and simply to learn Spanish.

    This is probably my favourite part of moving around: You get to meet people from all walks of life, with various backgrounds and experiences, who teach you things you never otherwise would have learned.

    Nomads find each other

    I made friends with a girl my age who worked in marketing in London and was visiting her father, who had a business in Peru. One American man in his late 60s had married a Peruvian woman and was planning to retire in Lima.

    Another was a businessman who opened restaurants all around the world and was looking to break into the Peruvian market.

    And I met a Canadian from the Greater Toronto Area whom I probably would never have crossed paths with had it not been that we were in Peru at the same time. I had wonderful conversations with her during our walks in the Miraflores neighbourhood.

    While learning Spanish, I also stepped out of my comfort zone and tried new activities. I sand-boarded, where I rode down a sand dune in the desert south of Lima, surfed on the Pacific Ocean, hiked the famous Machu Picchu — an ancient Incan citadel located in the Andes Mountains — and took a chocolate-making class during which I roasted my own chocolate beans.

    It was through enjoying all of these adventures and writing about my experiences to family and friends that I decided to try journalism and a few months later,  applied for a fellowship in Journalism and Health Impact at the University of Toronto’s Dalla Lana School of Public Health.

    Accepting the changes that take place

    I returned to Toronto months later. It was spring and I got to see cherry trees in blossom, enjoy walks by the harbour and prepare for my next move, this one to Baltimore, Md. I reconnected with old friends, shared my adventures in South America and realized that although we don’t talk as much as we used to, living far apart does change the dynamic of a friendship. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just different and that’s okay. It’s fine to keep in touch with friends on a semi-annual basis and meet in person when given the chance.

    I discovered that it’s not fair to assume things will stay the same when I was the one who moved away.

    Shortly after moving to Baltimore, my childhood best friend got married in Calgary. The timing was difficult and I had to miss it. My friends who did attend FaceTimed me during the reception. It was like I was there, but I also wasn’t.

    It was difficult, but I came to learn that the way I conducted friendships also changed. Distance created challenges in the way I showed up and, although my friends never called me out on it, I’m certain now that they probably felt emotions similar to mine. Long-distance friendships are not easy and that’s part of the baggage that comes with nomadic living. My best advice is to show up when you can and reach out when you miss them.

    Flash forward to today: I did apply to the journalism fellowship and was accepted. I’m glad I did because I’m enjoying writing and reporting on health topics I’m interested in.

    In the meantime, I have another six months until I move again. I don’t know where I’m going next. I’m riding the wave and ready to embark on my next adventure when the time comes. I have a community of people with whom I meet regularly and, although I’m not sure how those relationships will change when I move again, I know these are the kinds of feelings that can fit in my suitcase.

    Questions to consider:

    1. What was one thing the author learned after moving from place to place?

    2. What is one disadvantage of moving every few months?

    3. If you were to move from the country you now live in what would you miss?

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  • Truth vs. risk management: How to move forward

    Truth vs. risk management: How to move forward

    Key points:

    In the world of K-12 education, teachers are constantly making decisions that affect their students and families. In contrast, administrators are tasked with something even bigger: making decisions that also involve adults (parents, staff culture, etc.) and preventing conflicts from spiraling into formal complaints or legal issues. Therefore, decisions and actions often have to balance two competing values: truth and risk management.

    Some individuals, such as teachers, are very truth-oriented. They document interactions, clarify misunderstandings, and push for accuracy, recognizing that a single misrepresentation can erode trust with families, damage credibility in front of students, or most importantly, remove them from the good graces of administrators they respect and admire. Truth is not an abstract concept–it is paramount to professionalism and reputation. If a student states that they are earning a low grade because “the teacher doesn’t like me,” the teacher will go through their grade-book. If a parent claims that a teacher did not address an incident in the classroom, the teacher may respond by clarifying the inaccuracy via summarizing documentation of student statements, anecdotal evidence of student conversations, reflective activities, etc.

    De-escalation and appeasement

    In contrast, administrators are tasked with something even bigger. They have to view scenarios from the lens of risk management. Their role requires them to deescalate and appease. Administrators must protect the school’s reputation and prevent conflicts or disagreements from spiraling into formal complaints or legal issues. Through that lens, the truth sometimes takes a back seat to ostensibly achieve a quick resolution.

    When a house catches on fire, firefighters point the hose, put out the flames, and move on to their next emergency. They don’t care if the kitchen was recently remodeled; they don’t have the time or desire to figure out a plan to put out the fire by aiming at just the living room, bedrooms, and bathrooms. Administrators can be the same way–they just want the proverbial “fire” contained. They do not care about their employees’ feelings; they just care about smooth sailing and usually softly characterize matters as misunderstandings.

    To a classroom teacher who has carefully documented the truth, this injustice can feel like a bow tied around a bag of garbage. Administrators usually err on the side of appeasing the irrational, volatile, and dangerous employee, which risks the calmer employee feeling like they were overlooked because they are “weaker.” In reality, their integrity, professionalism, and level-headedness lead administrators to trust the employee will do right, know better, maintain appropriate decorum, rise above, and not foolishly escalate. This notion aligns to the scripture “To whom much is given, much is required” (Luke 12:48). Those with great abilities are judged at a higher bar.

    In essence, administrators do not care about feelings, because they have a job to do. The employee with higher integrity is not the easier target but is easier to redirect because they are the safer, principled, and ethical employee. This is not a weakness but a strength in the eyes of the administration and that is what they prefer (albeit the employee may be dismissed, confused, and their feelings may be hurt, but that is not the administration’s focus at all).

    Finding common ground

    Neither perspective (truth or risk management) is wrong. Risk management matters. Without it, schools would be replete with endless investigations and finger-pointing. Although, when risk management consistently overrides truth, the system teaches teachers that appearances matter more than accountability, which does not meet the needs of validation and can thus truly hurt on a personal level. However, in the work environment, finding common ground and moving forward is more important than finger-pointing because the priority has to be the children having an optimal learning environment.

    We must balance the two. Perhaps, administrators should communicate openly, privately, and directly to educators who may not always understand the “game.” Support and transparency are beneficial. Explaining the “why” behind a decision can go a long way in building staff trust, morale, and intelligence. Further, when teachers feel supported in their honesty, they are less likely to disengage because transparency, accuracy, and an explanation of risk management can actually prevent fires from igniting in the first place. Additionally, teachers and administrators should explore conflict resolution strategies that honor truth while still mitigating risk. This can assist in modelling for students what it means to live with integrity in complex situations. Kids deserve nothing less.

    Lastly, teachers need to be empathetic to the demands on their administrators. “If someone falls into sin, forgivingly restore him, saving your critical comments for yourself. You might be needing forgiveness before the day’s out. Stoop down and reach out to those who are oppressed. Share their burdens, and so complete Christ’s law. If you think you are too good for that, you are badly deceived” (Galatians 6:1-3). This scripture means that teachers should focus less on criticizing or “keeping score” (irrespective of the truth and the facts, and even if false-facts are generated to manage risk), but should work collaboratively while also remembering and recognizing that our colleagues (and even administrators) can benefit from the simple support of our grace and understanding. Newer colleagues and administrators are often in survival mode.

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  • When young girls pay the cost of climate change

    When young girls pay the cost of climate change

    Jaffarabad, Balochistan: When floodwaters swept through Shaista’s village in 2022, they didn’t just take her family’s home and farmland, they also took away her childhood. Just 14 years old, Shaista was married off to a man twice her age in exchange for a small dowry. 

    Her father, a daily wage laborer, said it was the most painful decision he has ever made.

    “I didn’t want to do it,” he said, his eyes fixed on the cracked earth where his fields used to be. “But I have four other children to feed and no land to farm. We lost everything.”

    Stories like Shaista’s are becoming increasingly common across Balochistan, Pakistan’s poorest province. In 2022, devastating floods there driven by record-breaking monsoon rains and accelerated glacial melt linked to climate change, displaced over 1.5 million people.

    There is worldwide recognition that extreme weather events — not just floods, but drought, heatwaves, tornados and hurricanes — are becoming more frequent and less predictable as the planet warms. These events have devastating and long-term consequences for people in poor regions. 

    Young girls as assets 

    In districts like Jaffarabad and Chowki Jamali, the aftermath of the disaster has left families grappling with deepening poverty, food insecurity and crushing debt. For many, marrying off their young daughters is no longer just a tradition, it’s a form of survival.

    A 2023 survey by the Provincial Disaster Management Authority reported a 15% spike in underage marriages in flood-affected regions. Child rights activists warn that these numbers likely underestimate the scale of the crisis, as most cases go unreported.

    “In flood-hit areas, families are exchanging their daughters to repay loans, buy food or simply reduce the number of mouths to feed,” said Maryam Jamali, a social worker with the Madad Community organization. “We’ve documented girls as young as 12 being married to men in their forties or fifties. This isn’t about tradition anymore, it’s desperation.”

    Bride prices, once a source of negotiation and family prestige, have plummeted due to the economic collapse. Activists report instances where girls are married for as little as 100,000 Pakistani rupees (roughly US$360), or in some cases, simply traded for livestock or debt forgiveness.

    “There are villages where girls are married off like assets being liquidated,” said Sikander Bizenjo, a co-founder of the Balochistan Youth Action Committee. “It’s not just a violation of rights, it’s a systemic failure rooted in climate vulnerability, poverty and legal gaps.”

    Marriage as debt payment

    In Usta Muhammad, another flood-ravaged district, 13-year-old Sumaira (name changed) was married off just weeks after her family’s mud house collapsed. Her parents received 300,000 rupees (a little over $1,000) from the groom’s family, which they used to rebuild their shelter and repay moneylenders. 

    Now pregnant, Sumaira, has dropped out of school and rarely leaves her husband’s house.

    “I miss my friends and school,” she told us softly. “I wanted to become a teacher. But my parents said there was no other way.”

    Child marriages like Shaista’s and Sumaira’s carry lasting consequences: early pregnancies that endanger both mother and child, disrupted education, psychological trauma and lifetime economic dependence. 

    A study following the 2010 floods found maternal mortality rates in some affected regions were as high as 381 per 100,000 live births, one of the highest in the world.

    “These girls are thrust into adult roles before they’re ready,” said Dr. Sameena Khan, a gynecologist in Quetta. “They face dangerous pregnancies, and many have no access to medical care. Their childhood ends the moment they say ‘yes’ or are forced to.”

    Giving girls an alternative to marriage

    The crisis unfolding in Balochistan is not unique. Across the world, climate shocks and civil strife are causing displacement that intensifies the risk of child marriage. 

    In 2024, News Decoder correspondent Katherine Lake Berz interviewed 14-year-old Ola, who nearly became a child bride after her Syrian family, displaced by war and facing severe poverty, began arranging her marriage to an older man. But before that coil happen, Ola was able to enroll in Alsama, a non-governmental organization that provides secondary education to refugee girls. In less than a year, she was reading English at A2 level.

    Alsama, which has more than 900 students across four schools and a waiting list of hundreds, has been able to show girls and their parents that education can offer an alternative path to security and dignity.

    In Balochistan, the absence of legal safeguards compounds the crisis. The Sindh province banned child marriage in 2013 under the Sindh Child Marriage Restraint Act which set the legal age at 18 for both girls and boys. But Balochistan has yet to enact a comparable law. 

    Nationally, Pakistan remains bound by the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, which requires nations to end child marriage but enforcement remains patchy. And Pakistan is not one of the 16 countries that have also signed onto the Convention on Consent to Marriage, Minimum Age for Marriage and Registration of Marriages, which forbids marriage before a girl reaches puberty and requires complete freedom in the choice of a spouse. 

    Pakistan needs to reform its laws, said human rights lawyer Ali Dayan Hasan. “Without a clear provincial law and mechanisms to enforce it, girls are at the mercy of social pressure and economic collapse,” Hasan said. “We need legal reform that matches the urgency of the climate and humanitarian crises we are facing.”

    Attempts to introduce child marriage laws in Balochistan have repeatedly stalled amid political resistance and lack of awareness. Religious and tribal leaders argue that such laws interfere with cultural norms, while government officials cite limited administrative capacity in rural areas.

    Bringing an end to child marriages

    The solution, experts agree, is multi-pronged: legal reform, economic recovery and access to education.

    “We can’t end child marriage without rebuilding livelihoods,” said Bizenjo. “Families need food, land, healthcare and hope. If they can’t survive, they’ll continue to sacrifice their daughters.”

    Grassroots organizations like Madad and Sujag Sansar provide vocational training, safe shelters and legal awareness sessions in flood-affected areas. In one case, Sujag Sansar intervened to stop the marriage of 10-year-old Mehtab in Sindh, enrolling her in a sewing workshop instead.

    UNICEF estimates that child marriages could increase by 18% in Pakistan due to the 2022 floods, potentially reversing years of progress. The agency is urging governments to integrate child protection into climate adaptation and disaster relief programs.

    “Girls must not be forgotten in climate response plans,” said UNICEF Pakistan’s representative Abdullah Fadil. “Their future cannot be the cost of every flood, every drought, every crisis.”

    Back in Jaffarabad, Shaista now lives with her husband’s family in a two-room house. Her dreams of becoming a doctor have faded, replaced by household chores and looming motherhood. “I wanted to study more,” she said. “But now I have to take care of others.”

    Questions to consider:

    1. How does the marriage of young girls connect to climate change?

    2. How can societies end the practice of child marriage?

    3. Why do you think only 16 countries have signed the UN treaty that requires consent for marriages?

     

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  • Why education leaders must highlight their people

    Why education leaders must highlight their people

    Key points:

    When I asked my executive assistant to proof my first superintendent’s report for the public board packet, she came back and said that she was surprised that I gave so much credit to others for the work being completed by the district. A simple leadership lesson I learned from David Fridlington, my favorite battalion commander in the military, was to use your position to take care of your people and support them. He told everyone that when he presided over a promotion ceremony, he said: “Use this rank to take care of your soldiers.”

    One basic concept is that when things go well, give credit to those who did the work, even if you provided the direction. Your board or other supervisors should understand that success requires leadership. The opposite is true as well. When things do not go well, the leader needs to step in and accept the blame. Even if a subordinate was negligent and their performance needs to be addressed, there is never justification for doing it in a public forum.

    The traditional leadership trap

    For decades, educational leadership has often mirrored the corporate world’s focus on individual achievement and personal branding. Superintendents, principals, and department heads have felt pressure to position themselves as the architects of every success, the faces of every initiative, and the voices behind every innovation. This approach, while understandable given the accountability pressures facing education leaders, creates a dangerous dynamic that undermines both team morale and long-term organizational success.

    When leaders consistently claim credit for achievements, they inadvertently signal to their teams that individual contributions are less valuable than executive oversight. Faculty members, administrators, and support staff begin to feel invisible, their efforts overshadowed by leadership’s need for recognition. This dynamic is particularly damaging in educational environments, where collaboration and shared ownership of student success are essential.

    Smart educational leaders understand that their primary role is not as the star of the show, but to direct in such a way that every cast member shines. When a high school’s test scores improve dramatically, the effective principal doesn’t schedule interviews to discuss their leadership philosophy. Instead, they organize a celebration highlighting the innovative teaching strategies developed by their faculty, the dedication of support staff, and the hard work of the students.

    This approach accomplishes several critical objectives simultaneously. First, it builds tremendous goodwill and loyalty among team members who feel genuinely appreciated and recognized. Teachers who see their principal celebrating their classroom innovations in district newsletters or community presentations develop a deeper commitment to the school’s mission. They feel valued as both implementers of directives and as creative professionals whose expertise helps drive student success.

    Building trust through recognition

    Education leaders who consistently spotlight their teams create an atmosphere of trust that permeates the entire organization. When a superintendent highlights individual schools’ achievements without inserting themselves into the narrative, principals and teachers recognize that their leader is secure enough in their own position to share credit freely. This security translates into psychological safety throughout the organization, encouraging innovation and risk-taking that leads to better educational outcomes.

    Consider the university department chair who, when presenting research achievements to the dean, leads with faculty accomplishments rather than departmental management strategies. Graduate students and professors in that department understand that their work will be recognized and celebrated, not appropriated by administrative oversight. This recognition culture attracts top talent and retains valuable team members who might otherwise seek environments where their contributions receive proper acknowledgment.

    The ripple effect of recognition

    When leaders consistently elevate their teams, they create a cascade of positive behaviors throughout the organization. Teachers who feel appreciated by their principals are more likely to recognize and celebrate their students’ achievements. Support staff who see their contributions highlighted become more invested in finding innovative solutions to operational challenges. The entire educational community benefits when recognition flows freely rather than accumulating at the top of the organizational chart.

    This dynamic is particularly powerful in educational settings because it models the same growth mindset we want to instill in students. When young people see adults in their schools celebrating each other’s successes and sharing credit generously, they learn valuable lessons about collaboration, humility, and community building that extend far beyond academic subjects.

    Strategic communication for team-focused leaders

    Educational leaders might worry that stepping back from the spotlight will make them appear weak or uninvolved. The reality is quite the opposite. Stakeholders, from school board members to parents to community partners, are sophisticated enough to recognize that strong leaders create environments where others can excel. A principal who consistently highlights teacher innovations demonstrates their ability to recruit, develop, and retain talent. A superintendent who celebrates individual school achievements shows their skill at creating systems that enable success across diverse environments.

    The key is strategic communication that makes the leader’s supporting role visible without overshadowing team members. When presenting achievements, effective leaders briefly acknowledge their role in creating conditions for success before diving deep into team member accomplishments. They might say, “We’ve worked hard to create an environment where innovation can flourish, and I’m excited to share what our incredible faculty has accomplished.”

    Practical implementation strategies

    Educational leaders can begin implementing this philosophy immediately through simple but powerful changes in communication habits. Instead of using “I” language when discussing successes, they can shift to “we” and “they” language that emphasizes team contributions. Rather than accepting speaking engagements about leadership strategies, they can recommend team members as presenters on innovative practices.

    Internal communications offer rich opportunities for team recognition. Weekly newsletters, staff meetings, and board presentations become venues for celebrating individual and group achievements. Social media platforms allow leaders to amplify team member successes to broader audiences, creating positive publicity for both individuals and the organization. Two of the deans I currently work with are excellent examples of such active supporters of their faculty. Informal leaders can participate as well by highlighting their colleagues’ accomplishments via posting congratulatory notes on LinkedIn or other social media sites.

    The long-term leadership legacy

    Education leaders who consistently spotlight their teams create lasting legacies that extend far beyond their tenure. They build cultures of recognition and collaboration that persist even when leadership changes. More importantly, they develop future leaders among their team members who understand that true leadership means elevating others.

    In an era when educational institutions face unprecedented challenges, from funding constraints to political pressures to rapidly changing technology, leaders who can inspire and retain talented teams have a significant competitive advantage. These leaders understand that their success is measured not by their personal recognition, but by their ability to create environments where others can achieve their highest potential.

    The most effective leaders recognize that the spotlight is not a zero-sum game. When they illuminate their teams’ achievements, they don’t diminish their own leadership; they demonstrate it in its most powerful form. In education, where the ultimate goal is developing human potential, leaders who model this philosophy create ripple effects that benefit students, staff, and communities for years to come.

    Steven M. Baule, Ed.D., Ph.D.
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  • Art as success? That’s genius!

    Art as success? That’s genius!

    The MacArthur Foundation selects a diverse group of people for an award dubbed the “genius grants”. In doing so they help us redefine our measure of success.

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  • East Africa’s Queer communities show progress and hope

    East Africa’s Queer communities show progress and hope

    Around the world, Queer rights are being challenged, attacked and denied. Governments are cutting budgets for important health and other programmes. 

    But in parts of Africa, there are distinct signs of progress. Organizations that serve and advocate for Queer communities in Eastern Africa now see hope for the future. That’s the case even in Uganda where “aggravated homosexuality” has carried the death penalty since 2023.

    “It is still a very hard environment but we are doing much better than a lot of people think,” said Brian Aliganyira, founder and executive director of the Ark Wellness Hub, an organization based in Kampala, Uganda, that helps LGBT community members who have difficulty accessing health services in public hospitals due to both anti-Queer laws and ongoing community stigma and discrimination.

    “We are doing better in terms of fighting back and supporting communities, not necessarily better in terms of protection, rights and freedoms,” Aliganyira said. 

    In Kenya, homosexual acts are illegal. Rodney Otieno, who is the co-founder and policy director for the Queer & Allied Chamber of Commerce Africa of Nairobi (QACC), described the creation of a “Queer ecosystem” that mobilises resources, builds social enterprises, creates sustainable economic pathways for people of the Queer community and attracts impact investments – using money for good causes even as it generates wealth. The QACC now boasts over 3,000 members in Kenya, plus others across Africa.

    Language and discrimination

    Otieno and the four other East African community leaders interviewed for this article generally prefer to use the more fluid term “Queer” rather than “LGBTQ” or any of its many variations. 

    Kevin Ngabo, a Queer activist and social justice advocate, said that local languages often lack positive or even neutral words to describe queer identities — only stigmatizing ones.

    “‘Queer’ gives us an umbrella that feels both flexible and affirming, allowing people to belong without being boxed in by rigid categories,” Ngabo said. “It’s a way of saying: I am different and that difference is valid.”,

    Ngabo was born and raised in Rwanda before moving to Nairobi, Kenya late last year.

    In Rwanda, there are no anti-discrimination laws but the government does not recognize same-sex marriages. 

    Pride in one’s identity

    A Queer rights activist in Kigali, who asked not to be identified, said that young people are feeling more comfortable with their identities. “GenZers are taking up more space as their authentic selves,” the activist said. “They are even getting more understanding and affection from their families. It is not ‘weird’ anymore. This will become the norm.”

    The Kigali activist has recently been involved in both a Pride Party and a Queer film festival, which attracted over 600 paying participants from around the region. 

    Queer community leaders point out different elements of both recent progress and hopes for sustainable success in the future beyond the constant imperative to keep community members safe and to try to get discriminatory laws repealed.

    “We need to continue to work together, make good use of our limited resources, be clear about what we are doing, raise awareness and be diplomatic when dealing with the authorities” says another anonymous Queer activist and feminist in Rwanda.

    Ngabo in Nairobi believes that Queer people across the region need to develop a strong sense of community and be “stubborn when they are told they can’t do something, and take space and stand up for what they believe in.”

    Finding allies to your cause

    Aliganyira in Kampala agrees that people should not run away from their ongoing challenges with safety, respect and equal opportunity and instead continue to show courage, resilience and perseverance to defend their current rights and expand them in future.

    A Queer activist in Rwanda stressed the need to work with allies and others to create more education and training to promote awareness, understanding and empathy.

    Ngabo shared some advice: “Start small and start where you are,” he said. “Speak up when you hear harmful stereotypes. Make space for people to share their stories without fear. Support Queer-led groups, attend events, or even just show up for your friends when they need someone safe to lean on.”

    Allyship isn’t always grand, he said. “It’s often in the quiet, consistent choices to affirm someone’s humanity,” he said.

    Queer community leaders say they are generally optimistic about the future.

    “In five to 10 years’ time, the narrative will change completely,” said Otieno in Nairobi.

    Changing people’s perceptions

    Young queer activists are being empowered and learning how to take on leadership roles in government and in other decision-making spaces, said one Rwandan activist.

    Another Rwandan activist envisions a future where same sex couples will be able to get married, adopt kids and access medical services freely.  

    “Things will improve if we are smart,” the activist said. “I hope we will see more safe spaces, more affirming healthcare (especially in mental health), more economic inclusion, and more media and policy-making representation. In the end though, dignity is more important than law changes.”

    Ngabo in Nairobi agrees: “We want respect,” he said. “We want to feel safe. We don’t want equality. We want equal opportunities. We want to thrive.”

    Real progress means being able to live authentically without having to conform, he said. “Stronger protections under the law, safe spaces to gather, visibility in public life, and most importantly, Queer people leading the narrative about our own lives,” Ngabo said. “These are what a brighter future looks like to me.”

    Even in Uganda, Aliganyira believes things can still change for the better.

    Uganda was once considered the safest place for Queer people in East Africa before the 1990s, he said.

    “Uganda can undo what it has done and get beyond fear and uncertainty,” he said. “It’s up to everyone to come together and overcome division.”

    Questions to consider:

    1. Why do LGBTQIA+ community members in East Africa prefer to call themselves “Queer”?

    2. What are the key elements of a brighter future for the East African Queer communities?

    3. What can you do yourself to stand up for human rights as an ally or a member of a Queer community where you live?

     

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  • Celebrating heritage means honoring students’ languages

    Celebrating heritage means honoring students’ languages

    Key points:

    Every year, Hispanic Heritage Month offers the United States a chance to honor the profound and varied contributions of Latino communities. We celebrate scientists like Ellen Ochoa, the first Latina woman in space, and activists like Dolores Huerta, who fought tirelessly for workers’ rights. We use this month to recognize the cultural richness that Spanish-speaking families bring to our communities, including everything from vibrant festivals to innovative businesses that strengthen our local economies.

    But there’s a paradox at play.

    While we spotlight Hispanic heritage in public spaces, many classrooms across the country require Spanish-speaking students to set aside the very heart of their cultural identity: their language.

    This contradiction is especially personal for me. I moved from Puerto Rico to the mainland United States as an adult in hopes of building a better future for myself and my family. The transition was far from easy. My accent often became a challenge in ways I never expected, because people judged my intelligence or questioned my education based solely on how I spoke. I could communicate effectively, yet my words were filtered through stereotypes.

    Over time, I found deep fulfillment working in a state that recognizes the value of bilingual education. Texas, where I now live, continues to expand biliteracy pathways for students. This commitment honors both home languages and English, opening global opportunities for children while preserving ties to their history, family, and identity.

    That commitment to expanding pathways for English Learners (EL) is urgently needed. Texas is home to more than 1.3 million ELs, which is nearly a quarter of all students in the state, the highest share in the nation. Nationwide, there are more than 5 million ELs comprising nearly 11 percent of the U.S. public school students; about 76 percent of ELs are Spanish speakers. Those figures represent millions of children who walk into classrooms every day carrying the gift of another language. If we are serious about celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month, we must be serious about honoring and cultivating that gift.

    A true celebration of Hispanic heritage requires more than flags and food. It requires acknowledging that students’ home languages are essential to their academic success, not obstacles to overcome. Research consistently shows that bilingualism is a cognitive asset. Those who are exposed to two languages at an early age outperform their monolingual peers on tests of cognitive function in adolescence and adulthood. Students who maintain and develop their native language while learning English perform better academically, not worse. Yet too often, our educational systems operate as if English is the only language that matters.

    One powerful way to shift this mindset is rethinking the materials students encounter every day. High-quality instructional materials should act as both mirrors and windows–mirrors in which students see themselves reflected, and windows through which they explore new perspectives and possibilities. Meeting state academic standards is only part of the equation: Materials must also align with language development standards and reflect the cultural and linguistic diversity of our communities.

    So, what should instructional materials look like if we truly want to honor language as culture?

    • Instructional materials should meet students at varying levels of language proficiency while never lowering expectations for academic rigor.
    • Effective materials include strategies for vocabulary development, visuals that scaffold comprehension, bilingual glossaries, and structured opportunities for academic discourse.
    • Literature and history selections should incorporate and reflect Latino voices and perspectives, not as “add-ons” during heritage month, but as integral elements of the curriculum throughout the year.

    But materials alone are not enough. The process by which schools and districts choose them matters just as much. Curriculum teams and administrators must center EL experiences in every adoption decision. That means intentionally including the voices of bilingual educators, EL specialists, and, especially, parents and families. Their life experiences offer insights into the most effective ways to support students.

    Everyone has a role to play. Teachers should feel empowered to advocate for materials that support bilingual learners; policymakers must ensure funding and policies that prioritize high-quality, linguistically supportive instructional resources; and communities should demand that investments in education align with the linguistic realities of our students.

    Because here is the truth: When we honor students’ languages, we are not only affirming their culture; we are investing in their future. A child who is able to read, write, and think in two languages has an advantage that will serve them for life. They will be better prepared to navigate an interconnected world, and they carry with them the ability to bridge communities.

    This year, let’s move beyond celebrating what Latino communities have already contributed to America and start investing in what they can become when we truly support and honor them year-round. That begins with valuing language as culture–and making sure our classrooms do the same.

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