My Early
Journey

My difficult early childhood years deeply marked me for life and set me on an alternative path. They began in failure. Living in a remote village on the far northwestern seashore of Finistere (Brittany), France, I could not cope with primary school. I was constantly being taken out of one school and put in another. Year after year, out of boredom, I failed at essential subjects. I forgot to do my homework, missed deadlines, and was regularly humiliated for not keeping up with the class.

The whole day was a struggle. Typically, a homework task quickly done in fifteen minutes would take me two hours, and often, it would not get done at all as I sat staring at the page. Managing my backpack was a considerable achievement. I needed help in my daily routine to start reading the first lesson and working on the first math problem. Class hours requiring me to sit still for long periods and follow rigid directives would throw me into a panic. Even in kindergarten, I could not hold my pen correctly, and the teacher gave up teaching me how to write, a handicap I still struggle with somewhat. My days were full of distractions and daydreaming, making me even more of an outsider. This whole school experience left permanent scars and severely damaged my self-esteem.

At age 11, I had to be placed on a school track for children with disabilities. I learned different skills, which emphasized manual activities, such as painting, handicrafts, and even making rattan baskets. But it was a rewarding time, as I could finally cope with school.

It was also a distressing turning point: I had to admit I was not a normal kid and that everything would be different. As high school ended, I was miserable and tired of learning only from books and other people’s experiences. More stressful still was how to have faith in what lay ahead.

So, I decided to experience life on my terms. I took a break from school. I traveled to the Middle East when most of my friends went to university at 18. I experienced hard labor, irrigating cotton fields alongside Nir Am kibbutz workers in the Negev desert near the Gaza Strip. After a few months, I went to Egypt, stayed with Bedouins in a camp in the Sinai desert, and spent long periods on Talaat Harb Street in Cairo. At 21, I traveled to Senegal, witnessing extreme poverty, hunger, and despair. In Gambia, I spent time in a prison in the capital, Banjul, for not having the proper stamp on my passport. To finance these trips, I took low-paid jobs in a factory.

By the time I was 22, I was ready to return to my studies and learn English. My poor command of English made it hard to communicate during my travels. Despite my worries about returning to school after a four-year hiatus, I moved to the United States in June 1987. In my first year, I learned English and developed a strong interest in liberal arts. I spent the winter at St Michael’s College in Vermont. One of my professors and mentors encouraged me to apply to Columbia University, which had a unique program for non-traditional students re-entering academia after a break in their education.

Getting accepted to Columbia University School of General Studies was a miracle for me. I was a late arrival to higher education, and my years at Columbia University profoundly impacted me. The liberal arts curriculum was superb. Louis Levi, my favorite professor, was teaching Introduction to English Literature. Padma Desai taught a course on the Soviet economy, and Nan Rothschild taught museology and anthropology. The renowned Edward Said was on the faculty, a professor whose writing hugely impacted my career years later. Professor Belknap taught Dostoyevsky. I loved the Russian department, even though my worst grades were in Russian subjects. As an undergraduate student, I didn’t want to specialize. I wanted to learn about philosophy, economics, and politics.

Columbia University taught me that education is more than just traditional schooling, completing assignments, or getting good grades. Seeking opportunities to volunteer, getting involved with the community, and helping classmates, as the school also showed me, helped me to develop a reservoir of inner strength and courage to be different and shape the values I live with today.

I learned leadership skills, much to my surprise, because I always thought I was timid. I thought education without “action” was useless, so I became very active in student organizations, a campus newspaper, and grassroots initiatives. Columbia University provided me with a framework and encouragement, an experience that informed my whole life.

Throughout my Columbia years and later in graduate schools, I have watched many experienced professors, often in situations that would overwhelm most of us. These outstanding professors had shared features. They loved to learn and be reflective on new ideas and perspectives. They could turn complex theories into simple parables, transform students at risk of failure into achievers and believers, and make the whole experience enjoyable. They routinely spent time in the trenches with their students, passing on technical skills and general problem-solving tactics. They also proffered more profound wisdom about life… My approach to teaching reflects that experience. I believe in a school system that nurtures the understanding that people can see things differently and that those differences merit respect rather than persecution.

This liberal arts education also drew me to the United Nations Security Council. I was interested in its globalist perspective, commitment to peace and security, multiculturalism, and central purpose to help prevent, mitigate, and resolve deadly conflict. I joined a group of experts on war damages after the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait. I designed transitional justice and reparation mechanisms for individuals, refugees, displaced persons, and organizations affected by the war. I managed a small team of UN professionals investigating the humanitarian and economic consequences of the invasion of Kuwait. I helped pioneer a modern climate justice program for environmental damage and depletion of natural resources in the aftermath of the war.

Over the years, I have enjoyed working and living in the field wherever possible. This is my lifeblood: shedding preconceptions, learning from different perspectives, getting exposed to new thinking and ideas, talking and listening to the most vulnerable populations – whether in Gaza, Bouar, Thimphu, Kiev, Kathmandu, Kinshasa, Bangui, Cairo, Beirut, or La Havana.

The arc of my career in public service has been an exercise in perseverance. But, I have been fortunate to witness and participate in many great human adventures and meet extraordinary and goodhearted people. I have been blessed to work with those who can make a difference, whether decision-makers in global, regional, and local capitals, social workers, psychologists, or emergency staff in local and remote communities. I have also been honored to teach human development, ethics, climate justice, and public policy. I meet and work with talented students making career and life choices rooted in inclusion, morality, and the awareness to challenge the status quo.