Week IV: Altitude & Advocacy
Justice Takes Flight: From Geneva to Indonesia
This week, my work at IBJ felt more global than ever. I've been working on a Bridging the Justice Gap initiative in Indonesia, creating communications for the ongoing JusticeMakers campaign. The all-women team of lawyers driving this work is nothing short of extraordinary: defending the rights of survivors of gender-based violence in Jombang, LGBTQ+ detainees in Kupang, and juveniles in conflict with the law in Makassar, all while serving some of the most underserved and overlooked regions across Indonesia.
Legal representation is just one part of the work. The initiative supports psychosocial care, policy reform, legal education, and public rights awareness. Over 300 women have already received legal aid, and through strategic partnerships, the program has helped open access to prisons and courts where these rights were often just theoretical.
This past month, our team in Indonesia hosted the National Networking Forum (NNF) 2025 in Surabaya. This landmark gathering brought together legal aid organizations, government officials, NGOs, and international partners to strengthen access to justice nationwide. Discussions focused on criminal code reform and protections for women human rights defenders. My role was to create a JusticeMakers spotlight series, highlighting the women's names, faces, and stories, actively making the world a more just place. Designing these spotlights gave me the chance to not only amplify their work but also feel personally connected to the movement unfolding thousands of miles away.
Full House
With everyone back from Indonesia and the last of the Stanford undergraduate interns arriving, the office is officially full, and apparently, so is my reader base! A few other interns found my blog this week (hi, if you’re reading this), which was both very sweet and nerve-racking.
We closed the week with a team gathering where we shared a failure we'd learned from and/or our favorite book. I chose Left to Tell by Immaculée Ilibagiza, a memoir I've loved for years about surviving the 1994 Rwandan genocide. Its themes of faith, hope, forgiveness, and resilience in the face of unimaginable hardship have stuck with me since I first read it. This past semester, I had the opportunity to attend an event at William & Mary where Immaculée spoke in the Sadler Commonwealth Auditorium. Hearing her in person and even meeting her afterward was incredibly meaningful. That evening deepened my appreciation for her story and reminded me why narratives of survival and healing are so important, especially for those who hope to pursue justice through law.
For my failure story, I kept it lighthearted but with a message. I shared how I ran for student council every single year from fourth grade through twelfth. I only won once in middle school and three times in high school. That means I lost far more than I won, but I never stopped putting my name on the ballot. What's the worst that could happen? I lose? I already had, and I kept going. That experience shaped how I view setbacks. I'm not afraid to take risks or to aim high because failure isn't something I fear; it's something I learn from. That mindset has carried me through tough weeks here in Geneva, too: facing challenges, navigating distance from home, and still showing up every day with purpose.
My story actually sparked Karen, our founder, to share one of her own: how IBJ applied for a particular grant eight years in a row, rejected every time until they weren't. That year, the grantor said they were impressed by the mission and IBJ's persistence. It was a full-circle moment. Justice, like growth, often takes time and grit.
Beyond Work
This week's theme of rising, professionally, emotionally, and now physically, continued into the weekend when I headed to Annecy, France, for a paragliding adventure. Things didn't exactly start gracefully when I scraped my knee during takeoff. Naturally, the first thing I did after landing was FaceTime my family, saying, "There was an accident," while showing my banged-up knee. My mom was briefly concerned, and my dad said he needed the laugh. At this point, they're both pretty used to me chasing a new experience wherever I go. Whether it's skydiving, studying abroad, or navigating a new city solo, I've always been someone who leans into a challenge.
Gliding high above the Alps, wind in my face and steering lines in hand, I felt completely at ease. It was peaceful, beautiful, and exactly what I needed.
After floating through the sky, I grounded myself in the city with a fun and relaxing weekend: Geneva's Fête de la Musique in Parc des Bastions. I curled up on a blanket under the trees, flipped between reading and people-watching, and enjoyed the live music and good food. The whole city felt alive, and summer was definitely in full swing.
This week also held a strange duality, from soaring above the Alps one day to sinking into sadness the next after receiving difficult news from home about my Grandma Marilyn. Grief and joy have coexisted more often than I expected this summer. I'm learning to hold both and keep showing up, even when my heart is split across continents. My boss called me cheerful and positive this week, and while that meant a lot, it also reminded me that strength sometimes looks like quiet perseverance, the kind that lets you do good work, even while carrying something heavy.
À la semaine prochaine,
Sydney