To be fully transparent, I struggled to begin this reflection. My trip to the Czech Republic, surveying memorials of Prague Spring and Velvet Revolution student dissenters, was one of the most meaningful experiences of my life.

Between October 9th to October 14th, 2025, it became clear to me that the Guiliano Fellowship was not simply supporting my first-ever solo international trip–but subsidizing my goals, motivations, and upbringing.

Going to Prague and cross-referencing the Civil Rights Movement with Czechoslovakian social mobilization symbolized my rearing as a Rochesterian surrounded by intentional public history, the daughter of 2 public school teachers, and a future humanities educator.

As I introspected, trying to figure out how to sum up my experience, I felt the weight of these identities on my shoulders. How could I effectively communicate the impact my fellowship had on me, personally and academically alike? How could I justify the significant relationship between these seemingly separate historical events? How could I do right by the thousands of American and Czechoslovakian student dissenters, who ignited the proliferation of democracy in their respective countries? I struggled to find the words. Yet amidst my perfectionist struggle, I remembered the date. 

 November 17th

36 years to the day, as I struggled to “find the words”, thousands of Czechoslovakian students made the choice to speak out. Assembled in the streets of Wenceslas Square, a week after the Berlin Wall fell, young citizens utilized the exigent moment to demand an end to normalization, and for democratic elections to begin. The focus was not on crafting the perfect message–but honoring what Prague Spring dissenters had attempted twenty years earlier.

Students could’ve kept quiet. They didn’t have to fight with their words or dissent openly. But they did so intentionally, hoping the benefits outweighed the risks. This deliberate decision, to use their words even when unsure of the outcome, directly led to the two entirely new democratic countries, the Czech Republic and Slovakia, we know today.

This has been the biggest lesson Prague taught me: that we won’t always have the perfect words, but mustn’t hesitate to react. In the words of the Czechoslovakian thinker and Charter 77 signer, Vaclav Havel, “ work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed. ” Commit to making your voice heard, not only when you have perfected your oration.

The truth is that I am not done reflecting on my time in Prague. In the same way I came to realize that our monuments don’t have to be the biggest or “flaunt-iest” to capture a significant moment in history, our words don’t have to be paramount to reveal how we feel. What’s more important, and critical in times of political tension and human rights violations, is speaking out at all.

Whether meticulously curated exhibits at the National Museum and Museum of Communism, or Velvet Revolution memorials I stumbled across while eating gelato (pictured below), the sites I visited could not have been more enlightening, fulfilling, and necessary in my life’s journey. I go forward, taking from Civil Rights and Velvet Revolution student activists who’ve come before me, committed to making a moment for democracy.¹ 
November 17th will remain a permanent reminder that because of them, I am.

I am eternally grateful to the Guiliano Fellowship for funding my endeavor and giving me lessons to last a lifetime. Thank you! 1 Inspired

“It is up to all of us to try–and those that say individuals are not capable of changing anything are looking are only looking for excuses.” -Vaclav Havel

¹Inspired by the Czech civic-organization “Million Moments for Democracy”, encouraging not just poltiicians–but everyday citizens to find daily moments for democracy.