This summer, I took part in the Global Citizenship Education course at the University for Peace (UPEACE), a United Nations–mandated institution dedicated to developing leaders who can build a more peaceful, just, and sustainable world. I am pursuing the Global Leadership Diploma through their Centre for Executive Education, and this was the second of five courses in that journey.

From the outset, I realized this course was different. It was not simply about learning the theory of global citizenship education (GCED). It was GCED in practice — modeled for us each week. Through interactive workshops, design-thinking activities, guest speakers, and sustained dialogue, we were not just studying global citizenship, we were living it together in community.

The most powerful dimension of the course was the exchange among participants from across the world. Each week we brought our lived experiences into the space: teachers, activists, administrators, peacebuilders, and learners representing diverse geographies, cultures, and perspectives. Theory never floated above reality; it was tested against stories from Ethiopia, Finland, Puerto Rico, Madagascar, Afghanistan, and beyond.

In that diversity, we were constantly reminded that everyone is both a teacher and a learner. This, for me, is the best part of UPEACE courses: the way they invite us into community, where knowledge flows in multiple directions and the classroom expands across borders.

Global citizenship education also requires unlearning: questioning the frameworks we inherit, recognizing Western-centrism and tokenism, and naming the power dynamics embedded in education itself. We explored empathy and cultural humility, critiques of soft GCE, and the tensions between local and global approaches.

These sessions challenged me to deepen the lexicon I use in my work. Words like empathy, humility, power, justice, accountability grew sharper in meaning through dialogue with others. Vocabulary is never just academic; it frames the way we act in the world.

At the same time, the course constantly turned us back toward practice. Weekly assignments weren’t afterthoughts; they were vehicles for integrating learning into our lives and work. Drafting vision statements, articulating challenge questions, and creating a personal manifesto pushed us to imagine how GCED might live in us as educators, leaders, or community members.

Here, GCED was not abstract. It was a lived pedagogy — a weaving together of head, heart, and hands. Knowledge and skills (cognitive), empathy and values (socio-emotional), and action (behavioral) came together.

If there is one reflection I carry forward, it is this: global citizenship is not a destination, but a cycle. To learn, unlearn, and relearn — again and again.

It sounds simple, but in practice it is profoundly demanding. To learn is to embrace complexity. To unlearn is to let go of frameworks and assumptions that no longer serve. To relearn is to weave new understandings into our lives and actions — anchored in justice, empathy, and sustainability.

Each turn of this cycle deepens our consciousness, sharpens our practice, and roots our commitments more firmly in care for both people and the planet. The lexicon expands, the meanings deepen, and we are reminded that global citizenship is not just something we teach, but something we become.

For me, the course also became a mirror for my ongoing work with The Geographical Imaginations Expedition & Institute (The GIEI). It sharpened my vision of how mapping, storytelling, and inquiry can move beyond “soft” global citizenship toward praxis — where ethos and action are inseparable.

This is the ongoing challenge: how to design learning expeditions that invite learners to see the world, and themselves within it, with renewed consciousness and responsibility. To keep cycling through learn–unlearn–relearn as a lifelong practice.

To the UPEACE team, my fellow participants, and our guest educators: thank you for creating a space that was equal parts challenging, compassionate, and inspiring. The course didn’t just teach global citizenship education — it modeled it, showing us what it can look like when lived in community.

The seeds we planted together will continue to grow, in classrooms, communities, and collaborations around the world.

When an idea is still a seed, it needs the right conditions to grow: time, structure, support, and challenge. That’s what an incubator provides — a space where fragile beginnings can take root, where ideas can be tested, stretched, and prepared for the world.

This summer, I found myself in such an incubator: the Entrepreneurship, Innovation, and Social Change course at the University for Peace (UPEACE), a United Nations–mandated institution dedicated to developing leaders who can build a more peaceful, just, and sustainable world. I am pursuing the Global Leadership Diploma through their Centre for Executive Education.

Over several weeks, I joined peers from across the globe — educators, activists, entrepreneurs, and dreamers — each carrying a different seed of an idea. Some arrived with projects already sprouting. Others carried only whispers, questions, or sparks of inspiration. Together, we entered a structured, challenging, and supportive environment designed to help our ideas grow.

The first thing we were asked to do was deceptively simple: write our mission statement in just eight words.

It was harder than it looked. How do you distill complexity into clarity? How do you pare down all the nuance, passion, and ambition of a project into a single line that still carries weight?

This exercise set the tone. Incubation wasn’t about fluffing ideas up. It was about stripping them down, examining their core, and making sure they could stand on their own.

From there, the course took us through a series of building blocks:

• Drafting theories of change — mapping how activities connect to outputs, outcomes, and long-term impact.
• Exploring legal structures for social enterprises — weighing the tradeoffs of nonprofit, for-profit, and hybrid models.
• Developing business models and lean budgets — ensuring that inspiring visions could also be viable in practice.
• Practicing the art of the 60-second pitch — learning how to tell a story that opens hearts and opens doors.

Each week built upon the last, and each assignment pushed us further into the real work of turning vision into strategy.

Learning in Community

No incubator works in isolation. The most powerful part of this course was the community itself.

Our cohort represented a tapestry of contexts and causes: a cultural hub in Thailand, women’s empowerment projects in Central America, climate initiatives in Africa, youth education ventures in Europe and beyond. Each week, we shared not only progress but also struggles.

When one participant questioned how to sustain her organization without donor fatigue, others offered models they had tried. When another wrestled with impact measurement, the group provided tools and examples.

The course reminded me that social change does not emerge alone. It grows through dialogue, cross-pollination, and the courage to share half-formed ideas in a supportive environment.

Applying the Lessons: GIEI 2.0

For me, the incubator experience crystallized around the next phase of my own work: The Geographical Imaginations Expedition & Institute (GIEI).

The GIEI has long been a space where storytelling, geography, and community engagement intersect — through podcasts, mapping projects, and learning expeditions. But much of it had remained a side initiative alongside full-time teaching. Entering the course, I had a vision for GIEI 2.0, one that could evolve into a nonprofit dedicated to global citizenship education.

By the end of the course, that seed had sprouted into something tangible.  The course gave me not only tools but also confidence: a sense that GIEI 2.0 is not just ambitious, but actionable.

Lessons that Will Stay With Me

Looking back, three lessons from the incubator stand out most:

1. Story as a Vehicle for Change
   Every venture, no matter how technical, must carry a compelling narrative. Data alone doesn’t move people. Stories do. The course pushed me to translate abstract global statistics into human-scale metaphors — to help others see the world differently.
2. Sustainability Beyond Finances
   We tend to equate sustainability with survival. But the course reframed it: sustainability is about alignment. The right legal structure, funding model, and organizational design must not only keep the lights on but also reinforce the mission and values.
3. Community as Curriculum
   The richness of the course came not just from lectures or readings but from the cohort itself. The exchanges, feedback and stories shared became part of the curriculum. The incubator worked because it was populated with diverse, passionate learners willing to listen as much as they spoke.

Looking Ahead

As I step out of this incubator, I do so with both a project in motion and a renewed sense of purpose.

The journey of GIEI 2.0 continues — with the creation of interactive learning tools, workshops, and, eventually, immersive residencies. But beyond that, I carry forward the conviction that entrepreneurship is not just about starting businesses. It is about cultivating imagination, empathy, and resilience — qualities the world urgently needs.

It is about daring to ask:

• What if we built economies that measured well-being instead of profit?
• What if education prepared us to collaborate as global citizens, not just compete as individuals?
• What if leadership was defined by empathy, not power?
• What if progress meant leaving no one — and no place — behind?

The Entrepreneurship, Innovation, and Social Change course reminded me that these questions are not naive. They are necessary.

And perhaps most importantly, it reminded me that I am not working alone. Across continents and disciplines, a generation of changemakers is already incubating their own seeds of change — each distinct, but growing together into something far greater than the sum of its parts.

If you are carrying an idea — whether it’s fully formed or just a whisper — I can’t recommend this course (or one like it) enough. It offers more than knowledge. It offers incubation: a structured, supportive space to test, refine, and prepare your vision for the world.

For me, it was the start of a new chapter. For all of us, it was a reminder that while the world’s population is vast at 8 billion, when reimagined as a village of 100 people — or experienced as a cohort of 25 — it becomes a place where we can truly begin to know one another.

And from there, begin to build a shared future.