I learned something this week: that it's funny how reflections change. At the beginning of the Emory Global Health Case Competition I reflected, in part, on what role an engineer turn ethics student could have in formulating an intelligible case response. I was explicit then, and will be now, that the question was partly egotistical – in that I wanted to overcome the self-doubt that has plagued me in many pursuits.
Over the week I developed a sense of awe for my fellow team members, for their talent, their passion and their insight. Each of them demonstrated brilliance, flair and tenacity that I felt privileged to witness. I questioned constantly the place I had among their ranks. But within me there was an insistence that I belonged, a belief that was not cognitive in nature like its antagonistic counterpart, but something ‘inner’. With urgency it muffled the doubt as best it could but early in the week it was flailing.
A critical moment came when I took a walk in the park alone. As a group we were struggling with our identity. We were at odds about what we stood for, how we should progress and what direction we should even go. I took the walk to give myself some space. I walked around the park asking myself questions about the case aloud, and I imagined myself at the lectern as I responded to them.
When I look back now on the journey we took as a group, I think the confusion we had been experiencing up to that point was symptomatic of the confusion we were experiencing as individuals within it. It seems to me now that, perhaps, I was not the only person trying to establish my place.
Over the hours and days that ensued we made some quick decisions about how we would present the case and respond to questions. A role as a person taking questions seemed to develop organically from the role I naturally assumed when I took that walk in the park. The roles other team members took too fell naturally to them.
Once I felt I had tangible purpose the self-doubt slowly eroded. I showed flashes of flare, passion and spontaneity that I had rarely revealed prior, because I feared failing while truly trying. So long as I wasn’t truly trying failure was more acceptable, so went the logic. Yet in this group I was not vulnerable, I was galvanised. They enabled me, they saw potential and they, critically, gave it space to materialise.
They believed in me and I in them. They gave me the platform on which I began to vindicate that inner knowing. The reflection has changed. I believe now. The shackles of self-doubt have loosened. What are the possibilities? What may come of me now? Where should I turn?
An old friend of mine, Rainer Rilke, offers some sage advice. “Do not now strive to uncover answers: they cannot be given to you because you have not been able to live them. And what matters is to live everything. Live the questions for now. Perhaps then you will gradually, without noticing it, live your way into the answer, one distant day in the future.”
To the five people whom I owe so much, it is often said that it is the journey and not the destination that matters. The journey has been rough, unsettling and transformational, but still the destination is not upon us, for what we can achieve has only been sampled. The destination is the journey and we are only just gaining momentum.
To our incredible mentors, Professor Philip Batterham and Professor Glen Bowes, in particular, who showed such vision to unite six persons who, briefly, have qualifications (pending or complete) in: medicine, graphic design, anthropology, public health, politics and international studies, PhD in corporate philanthropy, philosophy, public policy and management, nutritional science, international relations, engineering and science. And work experiences spanning the Khan Academy, numerous hospitals, Japanese kindergarten, Singaporean foreign ministry, mining, the NGO sector and the Singaporean army. As well as cultural heritage that spans Jamaica, Pakistan, the Philippines, India, Singapore, Australia, Canada and the USA. (Incredibly these lists aren’t even exhaustive!) In selecting this group you have made the greatest of testaments to the collision of minds.
Phil and Glen, there is no one who knows better the challenges we faced than we ourselves. Your parables and indelible belief in us were the ultimate pressure relief valves that enabled the trust and comradeship to cultivate in the most unexpected of ways.
Another such mentor, Professor Rob Moodie, said to us before we left: "What you must decide early on is if you want to be right or if you want to win.” At many times during the week we were at a fork in the road facing this question. It was quite unsettling how accurate Rob was. Yet there is no doubt in my mind that we managed both.
As a group we produced a response to the case that we believe in and are steadfastly proud of. We titled our response “Maa Tujhe Salaam,” which is Hindi for Mother I Salute You. It pays homage to the women in India whose health the case response was focused on improving and is a sentiment that I also share for our group. All the talent at our disposal was useless without the comradeship that we shared; a transcendent element of trust and togetherness that made the group greater than the sum of six individuals. It didn’t just appear but took effort, emotion, self-regulation, maturity and belief by all six of us to give rise to it.
To you five extraordinary people who have captivated my imagination; our talents combined...
Master of Arts (Professional and Applied Ethics)
Bachelor of Engineering (Chemical and Biomolecular)
