After nearly a month back in Rwanda, my thinking has largely revolved around the concept of home. To many people, the word conjures feelings tied to a specific place and/or people, and growing up, I fit neatly into this majority. Living abroad for the past five years, however, has transformed my understanding of what home means. New York will always be my origin, yet home now encompasses several places. The past few weeks in Rwanda easily confirmed that this place is the newest addition to that list.
Before returning, I carried a quiet worry about what it meant to say yes to a second year. Would coming back mean I was taking space from someone new who could benefit from this opportunity? Those concerns, which felt heavy in the weeks before departure, have quieted now that I’m back on-ground. Reconnecting with colleagues, seeing Grace and Lily (the new Fellows) thrive, and stepping back onto ST courts has reminded me that belonging isn’t about occupying space; rather, it’s about showing up thoughtfully, contributing where I can, and nurturing the communities and relationships with which I’ve been entrusted.
Reuniting with familiar faces, from the many baristas and small shop owners in the village to our very own staff, created a sense of comfort that I associate deeply with home. Of course, categorically, I’m an expatriate in Rwanda, but based purely on feeling, being back in-country has been comparable to sliding under your covers on a cold, rainy day. Returning as a second year Fellow has taught me something new about myself: I prefer familiarity to novelty. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reconnecting and re-assimilating into the flow of life here - one that differs so vastly from New York. In just a few weeks, Rwanda once again unlocked the version of myself I’ve yet to discover elsewhere: more patient, more open in everyday interactions, and more in touch with community.
While visiting each of the Shooting Touch courts as part of onboarding, one thought kept returning: how can I meaningfully and respectfully deepen my connection to these communities this year? I was struck by how many beneficiaries remembered me across all six courts, a realization that my presence here has taken root in ways I don’t always recognize. Alongside this, supporting Grace and Lily during onboarding while tasked with contributing across a wider set of priorities this year has left me feeling both humbled by the trust placed in me by leadership, and grounded in my responsibility to show up thoughtfully for my team and the communities we serve. This year, that commitment takes shape in concrete ways: spending time more evenly across courts, listening more closely to our staff, coaches, and my peers, expanding my language skills, and contributing to the continued growth of Shooting Touch’s footprint in Kigali and through our engagement with international visitors.
That sense of connection extends beyond the courts. Between this Fellowship cohort, I’ve noticed a closeness that goes deeper than shared responsibilities. As Fellows, we navigate similar transitions, responsibilities, and expectations, but spending time together beyond work (i.e., planning trips, setting personal and cohort goals, and enjoying new experiences as a group, etc.) makes it clear that our bond isn’t defined solely by circumstance. These moments remind me that the connections we’re building go beyond circumstance; we genuinely enjoy being in each other’s company, learning from one another, and growing together.
Sitting with this sense of cohesion, one word keeps returning to me as I look ahead to 2026: Community. For me, this word isn’t just a reflection. It is a compass for the year, guiding how I engage with others, nurture relationships, and invest in the places and people that matter. From my Fellowship cohort to my Rwandan colleagues to shopkeepers in the umudugudu (village), I feel called to lean into this bond. Participating in Umuganda later this month feels like a natural extension of this commitment - working alongside locals, strengthening relationships beyond the court, and contributing meaningfully to the Rwinkwavu community.
As January comes to a close, I feel revitalized, reconnected, and inspired to carry the spirit of community into every corner of this year. The quiet anxieties I carried before departure have softened, replaced by a deeper awareness that belonging is practiced, not earned, and that my role this year is to show up consistently, thoughtfully, and alongside those who shape this work with me. After all, home and community are not abstract ideas; they are cultivated one smile, one “Muraho,” and one shared effort at a time.
