Graduating into a transformed world

5 Questions for education disrupter and global guru Abby Falik

I’m sure there’s a journalism textbook somewhere that resolutely explains that you are not supposed to fall in love with your subjects. But it happens to me on occasion.

As it did with Abby Falik. I’d just written a piece about the damage that white westerners can do when we use the Global South as our own lab for good intentions. It really resonated with people and I knew, in the spirit of solutions journalism, that I wanted to do a follow-up where I looked at ways that we can go abroad, partner, learn, and do less harm. All signs pointed to Abby, who had created an organization called Global Citizen Year, which sent young Americans abroad after high school, but with an apprenticeship, not savior, mentality, and builds in all kinds of practices on self-reflection and humility-boosting.

We met at a coffee shop and immediately realized we were both pregnant and obsessed with many of the same topics—global development, philanthropy, Buddhism, leadership. We both felt strongly that our professional passions were core to our own thriving, as individuals and as curious, present moms; that our work should add to our mothering, not be seen as a zero sum game.

courtesy of The Project for Women

What struck me most then, and still strikes me pretty much everytime I’m with her, is how undaunted she is. She has a vision for how our ideas about education (particularly higher education) need to be revised for a new world and the systems and communities that need to be scaffolded around those new ideas. It’s not a small vision. It’s a massive, ambitious, profound vision. It’s a vision that puts her in all kinds of challenging positions — like bringing 100 18-year-olds home from Brazil, India, Ecuador, and Senegal when the virus hit, like raising money from people whose mindsets are often positively old world, like committing that every kid, no matter what their economic resources, can access her work and wisdom.

And she can tell you about all of this between sips of coffee without once appearing daunted. Sometimes frustrated, sometimes impatient, sometimes self-searching, but never, not once, daunted. Isn’t that remarkable? Here’s a taste of her determination for you, dear reader…

Courtney: I so loved your recent piece with advice for graduates. I think it should be required reading for all 18-year-olds. You and I are both big fans of the Obamas' leadership. What did you think of his commencement address last week? 

It didn’t take more than Obama’s casual and calm, “Hi, everybody,” for me to lose it.  Rio and Luca (my 3 and 5 year old boys) were up way past their bedtime, but knew I needed them to see a speech from a real President. They asked me why I was crying, and I couldn’t really find words for the profound mix of nostalgia, heartbreak and hope I felt in Obama’s reassuring presence -- especially in the middle (or is it still the beginning?) of a global crisis. 

The speech was so poignant. He gave three pieces of advice not just for the high school graduates he was addressing, but for everyone around the world who still looks to him for grounding and inspiration: 

Don’t be afraid: We’ve been through hard times before and can come out stronger. 

Do what’s right: If you listen to your truth, even when it’s hard and inconvenient, people will gravitate toward you and you’ll be part of the solution. 

Build a community: No one does big things by themselves. 

If we can do these things, he assured us, “We can leave behind the things that divide us -- sexism, racial prejudice, status, greed -- and set the world on a different path.” Count me in.

I’ve always loved how Obama models strength through softness -- he brings his whole humanness, carries questions (not just answers) and exudes a contagious integrity. He also reminds us that leadership isn’t a position -- it’s a practice. Sadly, our culture is hardwired to conflate titles, money and power with leadership. But true leadership is totally independent of these external markers; it’s about knowing ourselves, understanding others, and bringing the right blend of confidence and humility to what we say and do. Obama helps us realize that all of us can wield power and influence; it’s just a matter of learning how to tap into it. 

You and your organization have long held that higher education not only was destined for, but should have a major disruption. Can you talk about why you've been arguing that for, what, a decade now, and how this moment feels to in some ways, prove it out? 

Well before the current crisis another was brewing: the dramatic disconnect between what today’s young people most need to know - skills like agency, adaptability, empathy and the ability to collaborate across lines of difference - and the limits of traditional, classroom-based learning.   

So many of today’s kids are placed on a conveyor belt from kindergarten to college with little (and diminishing) time to pause, reflect and explore. High school has become a high stakes game to get into college and experimentation and failure have no place on a college application. The result? A generation of stressed out college students who are confused, restless and anxious in epidemic proportions. We know that the most direct path to “success” (however you define it) is never a straight line, and yet today’s kids are existentially afraid of slowing down or missing out if they get off the treadmill.

The pandemic creates urgency to change the systems and institutions that aren’t serving us. What if school helped young people map their inner lives, not ignore them? What if young people were incentivized not to play small and safe, but instead to spend time in their stretch zone — and to develop their ability to care for others? What if we could help young people learn to reflect deeply and aspire to a purpose beyond themselves? What if we sent kids to college ready to declare a major and a mission? 

Everything is possible coming out of this crisis. Change will accelerate and we have an historic opening to reimagine and re-set our educational paradigm -- for good. 

How is your organization shape-shifting for these times? 

In early April we made the difficult choice to suspend our global Fellowship for 2020-21. While the decision was hard, it was also clear: we knew we couldn’t responsibly send young people around the world during a global pandemic.

In the weeks since, it's also become clear that an unprecedented number of 2020 high school graduates won’t go college this fall as planned.  But just as interest in a “gap year” (a term I hate) has surged, travel restrictions, social distancing orders and unemployment will significantly constrain options for this year’s graduates.  

As soon as I saw an opportunity to be useful, my entrepreneurial instincts surged; I’ve been waking up on fire with possibility, and going to sleep with all cylinders still firing -- it feels a little bit like flying.  The last few weeks have been a flurry of envisioning new possibilities, gathering resources and rallying my team.  We hustled hard and fast and earlier this week launched a re-invented gap year designed specifically for our current moment. 

Today, we’re calling on 2020 high school graduates around the world who are opting out of college this fall, to instead enroll in Global Citizen Academy-- an intensive leadership experience equipping diverse high school graduates with powerful and practical skills for a lifetime of social impact.  

Rather than lamenting this forced “gap year” so many are facing, I’m convinced we can seize the moment for what it can be: an education on purpose.   

You see this moment between high school and college, not as a bridge or a gap, but as a formation experience. Can you say more about that piece of it? 

I’m obsessed with transitions -- there’s so much power in the joint, the liminal space, the pause between an action and a reaction.  I think about this Viktor Frankel’s quote at least once a day: “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

There’s a special magic in the transition into young adulthood -- it’s a moment when a young person has the maturity to leave home but hasn’t yet fixed her values or identity.  Religions and societies around the world have recognized and honored this transition as a rite of passage.  But in the U.S., where we’re in such a hurry to get to some abstract finish line kids are discouraged from stepping off the treadmill -- let alone adjusting the incline or speed.  

We need a new cultural template for this life-stage -- one that ensures young people have opportunities to leave their comfort zone, to be humbled by the world, and to gain the context and agency that are foundations for building a meaningful life. 

Me and Abby in our happy place, listening to one of our wisest friends.

You are a voracious reader and a person with a lot of spiritual practices that help keep you grounded. Who are your gurus of uncertainty in transition?

Recently my eyes have been much bigger than my stomach when it comes to reading.  I keep thinking I’ll find space to read in what you’ve termed the “pandemic pause”...but between the exhaustion and exhilaration of the last couple months, the pile by my bed just keeps growing.  Admittedly, I’ve discovered an odd obsession with pandemic fiction --  apparently, I’m not alone!

In terms of my practices, since our shelter-in-place began I’ve been thinking about what Gandhi is reported to have said: “I don’t have time to meditate for an hour today, so I’ll meditate for two.”  Keeping up the things that keep me grounded isn’t a luxury -- it’s a necessity.  Especially now.  

I am religious (in a totally non-religious way) about taking at least a few minutes each morning to sit still.  I bring my mind and body to the same place and run through four things I know are true but have to remember to remember: santosha (the joy is there, I just have to scan for the good), impermanence (everything I love will someday disappear), karma (what I give is what I get) and dukkah (suffering is wanting things to be different than they are). When the noise settles and I’m able to watch my thoughts, I remember that while I can’t make them stop, I don’t have to believe them! 

My greatest guides through these waves of uncertainty have been Mark Nepo’s exquisite Book of Awakening, and the Council of teachers I carry around in my head: Pico Iyer, Sylvia Boorstein, Tara Brach. These wise and bright humans remind me that it’s hard to be a human; and it’s also beautiful. 

And then, of course, there’s you - my generous and brilliant friend, who bears witness with sharp attention, putting perfect words to things we didn’t even know we were feeling, and making us more alive to ourselves, and the world.  

To learn more about Global Citizen Academy, or contribute to the organization so it can continue to serve all kids regardless of socio-economic status, go here.