I am someone who likes to be prepared. I do my research beforehand, I come in with a plan A, plan B, and sometimes even a plan C. So entering this next chapter in my life was no different. Before leaving for my trip, I wanted to learn what information was already out there on the story I wanted to share. So, I scoured the library’s databases for peer-reviewed, academic journals that highlighted areas of interest for my exhibition. I delved into research on resilience and post-traumatic growth in Kosovo, the educational success of college students, debates surrounding political recognition, photographic practices during the war, and the significance of local sculptures. Like I said, I like to be prepared. However, I made it my goal to throw all of it out the window the second I got to Kosovo. 

Research is invaluable, but it rarely tells the whole story. While I wanted to be prepared, I did not want to go into this experience thinking I already understood Kosovo and its people. So I made it my priority in my first month to strictly observe. I prioritized building relationships with locals, hearing their lived experiences, and immersing myself in the narratives they are already telling. I’ve engaged in meaningful conversations with trusted community members, visited exhibitions by Kosovar artists, and read both fiction and historical accounts that offer cultural insights beyond data points and analysis. Through this process, I have refined my approach, identifying the themes that need deeper exploration through formal interviews and recognizing where my exhibition can add to the broader conversation.

The exhibitions I’ve visited here have been powerful and deeply moving, each dedicated to preserving the memory of the war. While they were all incredible, I wish to highlight two of them. Reporting House commemorates the 25th anniversary of the war, showcasing the media coverage in Kosovo during the conflict. 36 Hours was a particularly impactful installation, depicting the Night of Fires—the tragic event on March 5–7, 1998, that marked the beginning of the Kosovo War and saw the loss of 59 members of the Jashari family (a commander in the Kosovo Liberation Army) at the hands of the Serbian Army. These exhibitions have been profoundly inspiring, illustrating not only the hardship endured but also the incredible resilience of a nation that has rebuilt itself in just over two decades.

However, in nearly every exhibition I’ve encountered, the focus remains on the past—on the pain, the war, and the struggle for recognition. These stories are essential, but they are not the only stories Kosovo has to tell. As I transition into the next phase of my project, I want to shift the focus forward. My exhibition will highlight the people of today—the students, artists, entrepreneurs, and leaders shaping Kosovo’s future. It will celebrate progress, hope, and the vision of a country that refuses to be defined solely by its past. Because while history must never be forgotten, the future is still being written.