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Over the past year, we’ve celebrated the 50th anniversary of Global Citizens Circle—reflecting with gratitude on a remarkable journey, the people who’ve shaped it, and the lasting impact of its work. As we honor this legacy, we are also looking ahead—committed to ensuring that our mission continues to thrive for generations to come. On May 23, so many came together globally to celebrate the 90th birthday of GCC’s founder, Jerry Dunfey. As part of this heartfelt tribute, a very special short film premiered during a private virtual screening. Created by GCC Board Member Michael Lockett and narrated by Global Advisor Marguerite Mariama, the film tells the story of GCC’s evolution and the many activists across the globe who have fueled its mission. It also highlights a new generation of emerging leaders poised to carry this important work forward. We invite you to watch “Global Citizens Circle: Forward to Fifty and Beyond” and be inspired by the journey—and the path that lies ahead.  By Pamme Boutselis Throughout the past 50 years, Global Citizens Circle has created essential dialogue around serious societal issues throughout the U.S. and across the world, especially at Circle events. I appreciate the sense of connection each Circle has given me, the opportunities to connect with others globally, and, notably, the access to people I most likely would never have experienced otherwise – and for that I’m grateful. One Circle, in particular, the first virtual Circle actually, made a marked impression on me at a time when we were all feeling especially vulnerable. I invite you to think back to where you were in early April 2020 and consider what your mindset might have been. As for me, I was working from home for several weeks at this point, having gone remote for what we thought would be just two weeks as the coronavirus ramped up stateside. Before March was out, though, the university I work at was partnering with the city to provide overflow hospital space on our campus. The mom of four now-grown kids, two of my sons lived local to me in New Hampshire, one with his wife and two recently adopted kids – and a baby soon to join their family that summer – and the other with his wife, also pregnant and due in May. My daughter, her husband and two kids had just moved back from Vermont to the town where she’d grown up (and where I still live). My youngest lived in Brooklyn, where he and his girlfriend worked in hospitality. Just a few days after NYC shut down in mid-March, my youngest son tested positive for Covid-19, and his girlfriend also did just a week or so later. In those early days, of course, there were no vaccines, and the uncertainty of the virus’s severity was incredibly alarming, with media stories of deaths worldwide coming at us daily. The length of time those diagnosed with Covid-19 had to quarantine was much longer than it is today. As our family in Brooklyn remained isolated in their apartment, we pondered how to get them safely back to NH once they were able to go out again. It was a surreal time, and one like nothing none of us had ever experienced before. Like many, I was scared – and watching the news each day with growing concern. And then I received an email from Global Citizens Circle, telling of a virtual Circle planned for April 7, 2020: “Connection & Action in Uncertain Time.” Having witnessed the power of an in-person Circle firsthand, I wondered what this might feel like online, particularly as we were all just beginning to get our feet wet in this new digital meeting space. But I knew I needed to be on that call.  Until now, most of what I knew about this global pandemic was what I saw in the media and briefly heard from a friend or two across the sea. April 7th brought this all home, allowing me to bear witness to what others were experiencing in a way I never could have imagined. As participants joined the Circle, there were a few that I knew, but so many others coming together from throughout the world. Two people will always stay with me. Ralph Zhang, a man in Wuhan, the capital of Hubei, China, a place I’d only recently become acquainted with via the news. His city had been released that day from a two-plus-month lockdown – and as he spoke with us, his face close to the computer screen, what he had been through over the past few months was evident with every word and facial expression he shared. It was haunting in many ways, but I also recognized that the virus had advanced earlier in that area. We had not yet entered into that stage yet in the U.S., although we were certainly heading there. While Ralph Zhang’s experience gave me trepidation, it also gave me hope; that there would be light eventually as we continued down this tunnel. Another man shared what he was witnessing – this time, more local in Manhattan. Although I don’t recall his name, I do remember what he had to say. He spoke of living near one of the big hospitals in the city, and on his noontime walks each day seeing the refrigerated trucks – something I had heard about and seen pictures of in the news. This was where the remains of people who had passed from Covid-19 were being housed. Hearing this took my breath away, lending credence to what I had already known to be true but now cementing it solidly as something real happening not too far away. It added to my urgency in wanting to get my son and his girlfriend out of the city as quickly as possible. It also grew the empathy I felt for those who died away from loved ones in those hospitals, for those who didn’t have an opportunity to say good-bye, to mark their deaths in the ways we normally might, or to grieve with others. I thought about the healthcare workers experiencing all of this and what the long-term effects would be on each of them – and the man who walked by those trucks each day. And while both of these accounts I shared – along with those I haven’t – might have you thinking this was a Circle I may have wanted to avoid – it was completely the opposite. These were scary times and I had been on my own in my house, working remotely, connected with friends and family virtually but feeling cut off from the world in so many ways. I could take in news reports each day but this didn’t compare at all with hearing experiences firsthand from people throughout the world. It gave me a sense of connection – of understanding that this truly was a global pandemic that affected us all in a way that I hadn’t felt as deeply before. It put faces and sometimes names, along with countries, cities and towns in my heart and head, reinforcing how important it was to work together to come out the other side of this global crisis. I know Global Citizens Circle has always been engaged in connection and conversation, no matter how hard or uncertain the times are. I’ve borne witness to this time and time again. But as I think back to that day in April 2020, when I felt quite scared and often alone – GCC came through in a big way offering connection and potential action to help us get through that very uncertain year. And I’m grateful not only for that day but for all of the virtual Circles since that allow us to connect regularly from so many places globally, to connect and communicate no matter what we are facing. Pamme Boutselis is an award-winning writer and content producer, currently serving as a senior director of content marketing and a communication adjunct at Southern New Hampshire University. She loves hearing and sharing stories. As a writer spanning a 25-plus-year career, her work has been featured in print and online via news media, career and education-focused blogs, regional magazines, technology publications and more. A serial volunteer, Boutselis has been a TEDx organizer since 2013 and a speaker coach. She’s been fortunate to work with dozens of nonprofits throughout the years and serves as a communication advisor for Global Citizens Circle. Connect with her on LinkedIn. Please note: Each week, we invite members of the greater Global Citizens Circle community to contribute to GCC Voices. The views and opinions expressed in each blog post are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Global Citizens Circle. As I think back to that day in April 2020, when I felt quite scared and often alone – GCC came through in a big way offering connection and potential action to help us get through that very uncertain year.   On April 2, 2025, GCC's President and Executive Director Theo Spanos Dunfey was awarded The Fitzwater Center Medallion for Leadership in Public Communication at Franklin Pierce University's Marlin Fitzwater Center for Communication. Theo delivered The Medallion Lecture: "I'm No Expert: Confessions of a Generalist." Here's what she had to say. Before I begin with what I prepared several months ago when this event was originally supposed to take place, I want to first acknowledge how much has changed and continues to change every day since then. Changes that I believe are leading our country into unknown, and frankly frightening, territory in terms of our democracy, freedom of speech and civil discourse. I’m not going to address these issues directly – we hear about them everywhere, all the time from historians, political pundits, journalists and other so-called experts. Today, I’d like to speak with you about being a generalist, and I hope it will resonate with you as we all think about how we navigate these troubled waters. How did I end up here – accepting an award for communication? You see, I was this very shy little girl from Claremont, New Hampshire who relied on her sister (who’s sitting here in the audience) to speak for me. If someone asked me what my name was and how old I was, my sister would confidently answer: “Her name is Theo and she’s 5-years-old. I’m Kass and I’m 6!” I probably let this dynamic go on much too long, but that’s a story for another time and, honestly, for a therapist to hear.  Theo and Kass  Phoebe de Larrabeiti and Theo Spanos Dunfey The irony sure isn’t lost on me that I’m receiving the Fitzwater Medallion for Leadership in Public Communication but let me say what an honor it is to have been chosen for this award. I want to thank Sean O’Kane, chair of the board of Global Citizens Circle and former trustee of Franklin Pierce University, for first introducing me to the amazing Kristen Nevious, Director of the Fitzwater Center, who then introduced me to the very generous Christina Cliff, associate professor of political science and security studies. Together, along with Phoebe de Larrabeiti, assistant director for Global Citizens Circle, we worked on a series of critical issue discussion guides to accompany edited videos of Circle programs on topics such as monuments and their power to unite and to divide, the hard realities of police reform, as well as healing divisions and finding our common humanity. Neither Kristen nor Christina ever asked for anything in return but gave us confidence and the skills to begin a project that would allow hard but critical conversations to continue beyond our 90-minute programs, making them available to a wider public audience. For their help and friendship, I am most grateful. Let me also thank Marlin Fitzwater, whose prescience to found the Fitzwater Center “to prepare students for the responsibilities of inspired leadership and service in vibrant public discourse” is a lasting gift to Franklin Pierce University, to its students and scholars, and to the state of New Hampshire. As a native New Hampshirite and someone whose career began just about the same time that Mr. Fitzwater was establishing himself as a leader in political communications, I remember him well and I’d like to think that his passion for presidential politics was in the crisp NH air when I returned to Claremont after college for my first “real” job in a presidential primary campaign in 1983. It was just prior to this that my story of being a generalist really starts. I went to college and studied international affairs, which was a mix of courses in political science, economics, history, and anthropology. These weren’t the kinds of courses (except for history) that I had learned about at Stevens High School. I needed to know something about all of them before I could decide what I would really want delve into. Four years later, when I graduated, I realized I wasn’t an expert in any one discipline, though I felt I’d had a well-rounded education and that I’d enjoyed learning a little about a lot of topics. So, what else could I do but go home and work on a presidential campaign and use my broad knowledge to help organize and persuade people to support my candidate. Of course, that was a challenge too, because I still had those shyness tendencies and making cold calls to potential voters was something I really had to get used to. Though my candidate, astronaut and senator John Glenn, lost in the NH primary, I had found my voice, if not any particular expertise. Continuing a bit longer in NH politics, I worked on a gubernatorial campaign, before I decided to go back to studying international affairs. This time I thought, I’ll come out with a master’s degree that would convey on me a certain sense of expertise. I got a master’s in law and diplomacy from the Fletcher School at Tufts University. Sounds pretty expert, don’t you think? Guess what? I’m neither a lawyer nor a diplomat, nor have I ever been. Why that’s the name of the degree, I don’t know because Fletcher is a school that distinguishes itself for turning out generalists. I had to pick three fields of study, not one concentration – I chose international development, US diplomatic history, and international communications. Again, just as I had as an undergraduate, I learned a little about a lot. And no, I’m not diminishing that – I’m getting to my point really. And that is that being a generalist offers unique strengths in communication by fostering adaptability, empathy, and the ability to connect ideas across disciplines, with storytelling as a key tool. So why did I feel, and, to be honest, still sometimes feel, that I should be an expert in something? I believe there’s societal pressure to specialize. Society often equates expertise with authority. We live in a world that celebrates specialists. Think about it—doctors, scientists, engineers—they’re revered for their deep expertise. But with specialization comes a challenge: communication. Specialists often fall into "expert blind spots," using jargon or focusing so narrowly on their field that they struggle to connect with others outside their domain. I’ve felt this firsthand. In conversations with specialists, I’ve sometimes been overlooked because I didn’t have a single label—like “data analyst” or “Middle East expert.” Yet, what I’ve learned is that this lack of a defined niche allows me to see things from multiple perspectives. And here’s the problem with hyper-specialization: when we don’t communicate effectively, we limit innovation, collaboration, and progress. That’s where generalists step in. Being a generalist means being adaptable, empathetic, and able to see the bigger picture. First, adaptability. Generalists excel at translating complex ideas for diverse audiences. For instance, I once explained what it means to be a global citizen to a group of emerging leaders by comparing it to a conversation at a Global Citizens Circle program. I explained how open and honest discussions, even when they are about hard topics (which is really what Global Citizens Circle is all about), help everyone to understand our shared humanity. It isn’t just about simplifying; it’s about making the information relatable. Second, empathy. When you’ve dabbled in multiple fields, you start to understand the challenges and perspectives of different groups. This makes you a bridge-builder. I’ve worked to bring people of differing backgrounds, races, religions, and opinions together for respectful dialogue that advances solutions to problems that sometimes seem intractable. By reframing their disagreements as dialogue rather than debate, I’ve helped people find common ground. Finally, big-picture thinking. Specialists dive deep, but generalists connect the dots. We see patterns, relationships, and opportunities that others might miss. This broader perspective makes conversations richer and more dynamic. It also helps us form relationships and identify partnerships that provide give and take and benefit all. Here’s where storytelling comes in. Stories are universal. They break down barriers and make abstract concepts relatable. As generalists, we’re uniquely positioned to craft multidimensional stories because we draw on diverse experiences. For example, I’ve had the privilege through Global Citizens Circle to meet and converse with world leaders, local activists and emerging leaders from all over and from different sectors, and when I tell others about these interactions, I’m able to speak about them on a human level because I’ve listened to their stories even more than to their expertise, and this allows others to understand the shared humanity that doesn’t put one person above another. Stories don’t just explain; they inspire. And for generalists, they’re a way to translate the value of our diverse knowledge into something that resonates with everyone. This is why when we begin a Global Citizens Circle program, we always ask our discussion leaders to start with a personal story that relates to the topic at hand. It may be, “why did you get involved in this issue? And what has kept you going even when you thought you wanted to quit?” It’s through these kinds of questions that we hear answers that are relatable and have the power to inspire others. Of course, being a generalist isn’t always easy. Sometimes, I’ve felt like an outsider in conversations dominated by specialists. I’ve struggled with imposter syndrome, questioning whether I’m “enough” without a defined expertise. But here’s what I’ve learned: being a generalist is not about knowing everything. It’s about being curious, adaptable, and willing to learn. It’s about asking the right questions, connecting people, and telling and listening to stories that bridge gaps. The reward? Seeing people collaborate in ways they couldn’t before. Watching ideas flourish because you helped connect the dots. That’s the magic of being a generalist.  Theo Spanos Dunfey, Ukrainian Nobel Peace Laureate Oleksandra Matviichuk, and Phoebe de Larrabeiti Let me leave you with one final story. I never imagined as that shy little girl from a mill town in New Hampshire that I would travel the world and in so doing have opportunities to impact positive change. I never thought I would be able to help a young Afghan woman to leave Afghanistan to come to the US where she could get the education she wasn’t allowed in her country. I couldn’t imagine I’d meet a young Syrian peacebuilder who travelled with me to the west coast of Africa this past October for a peace conference and was so inspired to learn more about Africa that he is hoping to do a master’s program in African studies so that he can use lessons from that continent to help him make change in his own country. And I wouldn’t have imagined I would ever feel confident enough to share lunch and conversation with a human rights lawyer and Nobel Peace Laureate from Ukraine. But those are all things that I’ve experienced in just the past few years. How did it happen? Well, I’ve used my knowledge and curiosity as a generalist. So, my message to you is this: Don’t underestimate the power of being a generalist. Embrace your unique ability to connect ideas, people, and disciplines. Use storytelling to bridge divides and inspire action. We may not be experts in one thing, but we are experts in weaving the threads of our experiences into stories that inspire, connect, and transform. And in a world that is clearly struggling to communicate in ways that bring out the best of humanity, that might just be the most valuable expertise of all. Thank you. When we don’t communicate effectively, we limit innovation, collaboration, and progress. We recently became aware of "Black and white," a poem written by 10-year-old Olivia Harris, and asked if we might republish it on GCC Voices. According to her mom, Carrie Huggins Harris, Olivia wrote this poem because she wanted to share a piece of herself at her school’s open mic night--and she was excited to be chosen to perform. Through this poem, she explores her identity in a way that invites others to listen, learn, and reflect. Her words speak not just to being biracial, but to anyone who’s ever felt like they don’t fully fit into one box or another. Olivia’s message is powerful: you don’t have to choose just one part of who you are—you can proudly be all of you. Her poem reminds everyone, no matter their age, that their identity is something to be celebrated!  Black and white We are sunshine and moonlight Different like night and day Not stuck between two worlds We make our own way. We are Black and we are white Like zebra stripes Like piano keys Like day and night. Everything in life is different Although it may not seem We all have a purpose We all have a dream. Our hair may be different From braids to curls to waves to swirls Our hair is unique And oh sooo chic. The world will have its rules A box we have to check But there is no box That determines what's next. I am Black I am white I am mom’s sunshine And dad’s moonlight. I am Jamaican I am Bahamian I am British And Romanian. People ask “What are you?” And I say I am me I hope that I am someone Everyone can see. All of us are different But in a way the same Strong and proud and free Our parents' legacy. - Olivia Harris   Olivia Harris is a bright, creative, and confident ten-year-old who lives in Queens, New York. She’s passionate about dance, acting, traveling, and finding new ways to express herself through various forms of art. Whether she’s on stage performing or dreaming up her next project, Olivia shines with imagination and energy. She’s known for dancing and twirling her way through life—literally—spreading joy wherever she goes with her infectious spirit. One of the things she’s most proud of is being biracial. Olivia speaks openly and proudly about her identity and enjoys helping others understand what it means to live in both worlds at once—something she does with wisdom well beyond her years. Please note: Each week, we invite members of the greater Global Citizens Circle community to contribute to GCC Voices. The views and opinions expressed in each blog post are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Global Citizens Circle. I am Black  By Kibar Moussoba I was sitting in my classroom on 9/11 when someone turned to me and said: “Kibar, was that you? What did you do? Was your dad flying that plane?” I froze. It took me a moment to even process what had just been said. The news had been playing on all TVs showing footage of smoke, destruction, and fear. And now, somehow, I was being linked to it. I didn’t have the words to explain how wrong that moment was. All I knew was that things were changing, and quickly. In the weeks and months after 9/11, I was no longer just a kid in high school. I was an Arab-American that constantly had to look over my shoulder. It didn't matter that I was 15 years old. It didn't matter that I was Christian. It didn't matter that I lived in rural New Hampshire with absolutely no connection to any terrorist organization. The bullying, name calling, and snickering at my expense continued longer than I care to explain. What I learned years later is this: when people don’t understand you, they create their own version of your story. And the best way to change that was to tell your own story before they tell it for you. For a long time, I stayed silent. I kept my head down. I knew that if I ignored the comments, they would simply go away. The following year, my English teacher announced a school-wide essay contest inviting students to share their reflections on 9/11 and what freedom meant to us. At first, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to participate. After all, I was not in a positive state of mind about this topic so I saw no reason to subject myself to this exercise. But, of course, the same day they announced this essay contest, the kid that was making my life miserable for a year decided to take another stab at me. I wrote the whole thing that night. I wrote about my family’s journey to America. About what it meant to leave behind a war-torn country. About how proud we were to become citizens. And about how, after 9/11, that sense of belonging was gone for me and most Arab-Americans in this country. When I was selected to read my essay in front of the entire school, I was terrified. The same students who had been bullying me, who had laughed, who had made me feel like an outsider — they would all be in that room. What felt like the next day, I stepped onto that stage as the last finalist to read their essay. I closed my eyes, and with slight anger in my voice I belted out the first words, "I was born during a war." Over the next 4 minutes I spoke about freedom from my lens, but what it could truly look like. I spoke about the façade of unity in this country. I spoke about pride and perseverance; how escaping war from my birth country only led to war in this country. When I finished, there was silence. I could practically hear the jaws hitting the floor. I was unsure if what I had just done was going to help me or hurt me, but the principal encouraged everyone to applaud and I walked off stage. As we exited the assembly, something unexpected happened. The one kid who led the charge at making my life miserable for the past year stopped me in the hallway. He looked at me, but didn't say anything this time. As he stuck out his hand, his blank face turned to remorse. He didn’t say a word. But he didn’t have to. That moment told me everything. He saw me. That moment taught me a lesson I will never forget: stories have the power to shift perspectives in ways that arguments never will. People fear what they don’t understand. When we don’t know someone’s story, we fill in the blanks with assumptions. The best way to break down bias is to make yourself known. Stories create connection. Facts inform. But stories connect. When someone hears your lived experience, they don’t just process information — they feel it. When you share your truth, you take back control. For a short amount of time, I let others define my identity. But telling my story helped me reclaim it. So, if you feel misunderstood — don’t allow yourself to shrink. Share your story. Let people see you. Because when they do, their perspective might change forever. We all have a story that could change someone’s perspective. My story brought me to the TEDx stage. Ask yourself, what’s one part of your story that others could benefit from hearing? Kibar Moussoba is the senior program manager of People Experience at Southern New Hampshire University, where he leads strategic Inclusive Listening initiatives to enhance employee engagement and equity, diversity, and inclusion. With a deep passion for fostering meaningful workplace experiences, he helps drive key initiatives aligned with the university’s strategic goals. Beyond his role at SNHU, Kibar is an award-winning entertainer and professional DJ, known for creating unforgettable experiences at events across New England and beyond. His love for music began at the age of five with piano lessons, and by 19, he had launched his professional DJ career with Main Event Entertainment. Originally from Beirut, Lebanon, but having spent most of his life in Southern New Hampshire, he developed his DJing skills early and quickly became a sought-after performer. His ability to blend diverse musical influences and craft dynamic atmospheres has made him one of New England’s top DJs. In addition to his professional commitments, Kibar serves on the Board of Directors for the Mental Health Center of Greater Manchester and has been recognized with several accolades, including the prestigious 40 Under Forty award in New Hampshire. He is also a TEDx speaker, sharing insights on resilience, perspective, and personal growth. A husband and father of two, Kibar balances his career with his dedication to family, mentorship, and making a meaningful impact in every space he enters. Please note: Each week, we invite members of the greater Global Citizens Circle community to contribute to GCC Voices. The views and opinions expressed in each blog post are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Global Citizens Circle. When we don’t know someone’s story, we fill in the blanks with assumptions. The best way to break down bias is to make yourself known. Stories create connection. Facts inform. But stories connect. When someone hears your lived experience, they don’t just process information — they feel it. When you share your truth, you take back control.  By Pamme Boutselis Like many of you, I’ve nearly gotten whiplash this past month in response to the onslaught of nefarious actions throughout the U.S. and all that's in tandem worldwide. Everyone around me – from family to colleagues to friends – seems to be battling such an array of emotions, from astonishment to fear to anger to despair, and just about everything in between and beyond. It's a balancing act between wanting to stay informed and becoming mired in the news. There’s been a reel featuring RuPaul making the rounds in social media, from some time ago, in which this sage advice is offered: “With all the darkness that’s going on in the world, you can look at the darkness. Don’t stare. It will make you crazy. It will make you cross-eyed. It’ll make you what it is. The solution is to create magic, dance, sing, love, create environments where you can find joy. Because you can create joy.” And I found solace in those words, although a piece of me felt (and feels) like it’s a betrayal to focus on finding joy when so many around me are in such pain. I know I’m not alone in feeling that way. I have so many blessings, so much in the way of joy ahead, particularly this year. I bet you do, too. So what I’m working toward is helping others find joy, big and small. Find comfort in these difficult times. Find solutions when solutions feel far away. Find ways to bring unheard voices to the forefront and find people willing to listen. These are things I can do – and so can you. I’ve been thinking a lot about who we can be for each other. This certainly isn’t a new concept – nor is the way I’m thinking lately all that new for me either. It just feels more urgent now. Our influence is greater than we might suspect – and our belief in each other, and ourselves, might be just the thing to turn this ship around. Let’s not allow these dark waters to engulf us. Find hope where you can – and nurture that hope. I found hope in an unlikely place over the weekend, at the cinema where I took in the “Becoming Led Zeppelin” movie. The band’s rise to fame took place during tumultuous times in the U.S. and the world. Newsreels and media clips surfaced throughout the narrative, reminding me of all that transpired in the 60s and 70s and how recent, really, so much of that was. And while history will show us the treacherous acts that have transpired since time began, it also brings us the stories of courage, of the activists who created forward movement, of the solidarity that brings about change. Throughout the past 50 years, Global Citizens Circle has been knee deep in societal, global issues, immersed in respectful dialogue focused on radical communication, conflict resolution and achieving peace. And it is here, with GCC, I also find great hope, along with continued learning and the belief that each of us has a voice in shaping a world that we all can thrive within. Join GCC on Wednesday, February 26 from noon to 1pm ET for “Uniting in the Face of Fear: Building Transformational Alliances,” featuring:  Learn more and register to attend here. Pamme Boutselis is an award-winning writer and content producer, currently serving as a senior director of content marketing and a communication adjunct at Southern New Hampshire University. She loves hearing and sharing stories. As a writer spanning a 25-plus-year career, her work has been featured in print and online via news media, career and education-focused blogs, regional magazines, technology publications and more. A serial volunteer, Boutselis has been a TEDx organizer since 2013 and a speaker coach. She’s been fortunate to work with dozens of nonprofits throughout the years and serves as a communication advisor for Global Citizens Circle. Connect with her on LinkedIn. Please note: Each week, we invite members of the greater Global Citizens Circle community to contribute to GCC Voices. The views and opinions expressed in each blog post are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Global Citizens Circle. Our influence is greater than we might suspect – and our belief in each other, and ourselves, might be just the thing to turn this ship around. Regardless of where we are in the world, we’re witnessing division—pulling so many of us farther apart in opposite directions. For those of us who continue to hope, and to believe in the power of respectful dialogue, Global Citizens Circle (GCC) offers pathways so that we may share this hope and belief with others. Then, they too can create ways forward to positive engagement in their communities. One critical tool is GCC’s Dialogue2Action series, based on our Circle events, with the goal of furthering the conversation throughout our global communities, so we may begin to see the possibilities available to us all.  An especially pertinent topic may well be “Healing Divisions: Embracing Our Common Humanity,” featuring moderator Judith Thompson, Ph.D., co-founder of Children of War, Inc., with discussion leaders Rosalie Gerut,the daughter of Holocaust survivors and co-founder of One by One; Tony McAleer, former leader of a Neo-Nazi skinhead organization and co-founder of Life After Hate; and Belvie Rooks, co-founder of Growing a Global Heart. The ”Healing Divisions” Discussion Guide features discussion prompts to consider as you go through the discussion program, which includes a thorough introduction, before delving into sections on toxic shame, the power of radical compassion, accountability and reconciliation – as well as the video below. This comprehensive discussion guide was developed by Dr. Christina Cliff, associate professor of political science and security studies at Franklin Pierce University. Access the guide here and the related video here. Receiving compassion from someone we don’t deserve it from is incredibly powerful information.  By Stephen Reno In the wake of the November election, too often have I heard the call “to circle the wagons.” It’s a phrase deep in our American folklore and has come to represent a measure to be safe and secure. But the lessons of these past few weeks are that we need to do just the opposite; rather we need to engage in respectful conversation across difference but based in our common love for our country. Global Citizens Circle, now in its 50th year, has been doing just that, and so offers us all a model for how to do it and what it can lead to. And what it also offers — so desperately needed these days — is intergenerational conversation. As Pope Frances noted, “The elderly with their history are the roots and the young are the flowers and fruits.” Together we grow, recognizing difference, but also know our shared roots. Our country and our world so urgently need this approach. I am grateful for Global Citizens Circle and urge us all to ensure that its mission is an active verb. We hope you’ll register for our next Circle on Monday, December 2, from noon to 1pm. Historian and author Timothy Ryback, whose books and articles offer lessons for democracy, joins us for an important post-election circle event as we join in conversation to consider how to constructively move forward given the polarization of American citizenry. What lesson can we learn from others who’ve navigated similar polarization and found ways to work together for common good? You may register here. Stephen Reno is a retired professor of comparative religion, university administrator, and most recently, the former executive director of Leadership New Hampshire, a 30-year-old organization whose mission is “Building a community of informed and engaged leaders.” He lives in Hampton, New Hampshire, and serves on the advisory board of Global Citizens Circle. Please note: Each week, we invite members of the greater Global Citizens Circle community to contribute to GCC Voices. The views and opinions expressed in each blog post are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Global Citizens Circle. We need to engage in respectful conversation across difference but based in our common love for our country.
Battles over Confederate flags and monuments persist and suggest that the issues fought over in the American Civil War and Civil Rights Movement are unresolved. How we confront symbols of statues, flags and anthems determine the extent of domestic tranquility we can achieve as a nation. How can public commemoration shape a collective narrative that builds, rather than strains the ties that bind us together?
In Feb. 2021, Global Citizens Circle (GCC) addressed this question in a stirring circle. Discussion leaders included American politician, lawyer and author Mitch Landrieu, whose book, “In the Shadow of Statues: A White Southerner Confronts History,” speaks to his personal journey confronting the issue of race and institutional racism that still plagues America. Circle discussion leaders also included Imari Paris Jefferies, Ph.D., Tracyann Williams, and Dr. Craig Stutman. 
This important circle discussion is now part of GCC’s engaging Dialogue2Action series. The overview video can be viewed below. Review the discussion guide here. There’s never been a better time to participate in one of GCC’s Dialogue2Action discussions with your friends, colleagues, and community. There is a difference between remembrance of history and reverence of it.  By Sonja Meijer Hannah Arendt, a German American historian and political thinker, made significant contributions to political theory and philosophy, which continue to be studied today. Arendt argues that thinking is a political activity. Engaging and thinking with others in the political sphere is central to a fulfilling life. Arendt has explored issues from totalitarianism in works like “The Origins of Totalitarianism,” an examination of “The Human Condition,” her views on evil when covering the trial of Adolf Eichmann, her distinction between the Public and Private spheres, and her advocacy for human rights, as she herself was a refugee. Arendt emphasizes the importance of engaging in political discourse with others. By entering the political realm, we leave our private life to appear in front of others, with the use of speech and action. By presenting ourselves, we can be recognized by others and therefore attain a sense of individual freedom. Arendt believes that if we appear in front of others, our existence is acknowledged, leading to the experience of human plurality and eventually reality. Arendt argues that good and meaningful conversations occur when two individuals are working together to understand each other. As we cannot know another person merely from observation, we have a responsibility to engage in dialogue. We need to actively seek answers to the questions we have about someone. Not only do we come to understand the other person through dialogue, but we also come to learn more about ourselves. Through this collaborative exploration, we shed light on who we are as individuals and how we fit into the larger world. Not only is it important to have dialogue with others, but one must also be able to have dialogue with themselves. Arendt states that “no man can keep his conscience intact who cannot actualize the dialogue with himself, that is, who lacks the solitude required for all forms of thinking.” Arendt believes that our inner dialogue, which she calls a “two-in-one” conversation, is necessary when examining our conscience. In this two-in-one, this thought process turns into a dialogue consisting of myself asking questions and my other self answering them. Arendt argues that “living together with others begins with living together with oneself.” For one to engage in inner dialogue, one must enter a world of solitude. Arendt’s notion of solitude is a space for self-discovery and introspection. A person cannot enter the public realm as a political being without first thinking in solitude. Solitude, as Arendt sees it, offers us a remedy to an increasingly lonely society. Rather than following a traditional way of solving loneliness – the view of engaging more with others – one should spend more time in solitude. Our society is dealing with an epidemic of loneliness. With the development of technology, specifically social media, we spend more time alone, not engaging in dialogue with ourselves or others. This time alone is often spent scrolling on Instagram, checking emails, or watching TV. We have become immersed in the screens that we deem as entertainment, and we now consider it our ‘alone’ time or ‘me’ time. But this is not what Arendt meant by spending time with ourselves. We are no longer taking time to speak with our other self in solitude, away from distractions. Our attention span is even shorter than previous years, and we become easily bored and exist in this world of loneliness. We are no longer experiencing the companionship of our other self within the two-in-one. As we are no longer engaging in the self-understanding that emerges from inner dialogue, we are ill-prepared for participating in the public sphere. We are losing what makes us distinct from others as we hide behind screens and appear less and less in front of others. Solitude is integral to the life of a human being, and without this space for introspection, we lose our ability for thought and therefore our freedom. Arendt talks about the dangers of totalitarianism. In the world of totalitarianism, one is taught what to think rather than how to think. Totalitarianism acts like a magnet, where individuals are pulled so close together that they lose their individuality and merge into one. Totalitarian regimes seek to eradicate all differences of thought by removing the political space that allows for new and transformative ideas to be produced. Without the ability to think one becomes lonely. In contrast to the lonely man, the solitary man is completely alone but, as Arendt sees it, he is “together with himself.” Thinking in solitude is a dialogue between “me and myself.” Arendt notes that the lonely person can save themselves from loneliness by engaging in solitary dialogue. By being in solitude, we can expand our minds and question our own views and perspectives. Arendt also highlights the repercussions of abstaining from meaningful reflection. Her essay “Thinking and Moral Considerations” grapples with the connection between thinking and evil. Arendt used the phrase “the banality of evil” to describe Adolf Eichmann, a high-ranking Nazi official who was a significant figure in the Holocaust. Arendt did not see Eichmann as a “monstrous” figure but rather an ordinary bureaucrat who committed evil acts without deeply questioning or reflecting on the moral implications of his actions. These evil deeds were committed on a large scale, and Arendt viewed this as “not stupidity but a curious, quite authentic inability to think.” She argues that thinking, this two-in-one conversation, can deter individuals from evildoing. Arendt posits that when you are in solitude, you are engaged in thought which may “be the most solitary of all activities” but you are never “without a partner and without company.” Delving deep into conversation with yourself will always be sufficient companionship. In conclusion, Arendt’s thinking highlights the importance of solitude as a space to understand ourselves through engaging in a two-in-one dialogue. By critiquing totalitarianism, she highlights the dangers of depriving people of solitude. Losing this space for solitude means losing the freedom that comes with thinking. Solitude is a space to discover one’s identity through sustained reflection. The process of having dialogue with our self encourages us to question our own values while also opening ourselves to the other. This preparation better equips us for acting in the political sphere. By balancing solitude and our social interactions, we can have a fulfilling and meaningful life. Everyone can feel lonely at times, but Arendt encourages us to continuously cultivate our inner-thinking partner to find refuge in solitude. Finally, I would like to leave you with a poem I wrote about solitude: Arendt’s wise words she tells us that solitude is a place for us to reflect where a person can be in conversation with oneself, can be fulfilled by one’s own presence and that solitude cannot be mistaken for loneliness (but I am too often lonely and wonder how I can enter the world of solitude)  Sonja Meijer is a recent graduate of Bryn Mawr College, where she earned a Bachelor of Arts in Philosophy. She is half American and half Dutch, and grew up in the Geneva, Switzerland area. Her interests are in social justice, poetry, theater, and sports. She has been involved with Global Citizen Circle for the past year and served as an intern for GCC in 2023. Please note: Each week, we invite members of the greater Global Citizens Circle community to contribute to GCC Voices. The views and opinions expressed in each blog post are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Global Citizens Circle. Power is actualized only where word and deed have not parted company, where words are not empty and deeds not brutal, where words are not used to veil intentions but to disclose realities, and where deeds are not used to violate and destroy but to establish relations and create new realities. |
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