Learning to Stay When Everything Felt Uncertain

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When I first arrived in Washington, D.C., for the USF in DC Fellowship through the Leo T. McCarthy Center, it felt like I had stepped into a world I didn’t fully understand. Conversations moved quickly—filled with policy terms, political references, and a level of confidence I hadn’t yet built. As a public health student, I wasn’t trained in that language. I thought in terms of communities, prevention, and health systems—not legislation or political strategy. And as an international student, that feeling only grew stronger. I kept wondering if I had somehow entered a space that wasn’t meant for me.

That uncertainty followed me into my first few weeks in the city.

I had come to D.C. at a time when everything felt unstable. Conversations about a potential government shutdown were constant. Offices were unsure about hiring, timelines were unclear, and opportunities felt limited. For many students, this was stressful—but for me, it felt restrictive. Being an international student already meant navigating barriers around internships, and now it felt like those opportunities were slipping even further away.

Finding an internship quickly became one of the most difficult parts of my experience.

I was consistently applying, sending emails, following up, and staying hopeful. At the same time, I wasn’t doing this alone. My professors, the program director, and even the Dean were all supporting me—sending opportunities, offering guidance, and checking in. There was so much effort coming from every direction, including my own, and yet nothing was working.

It wasn’t a lack of effort. It wasn’t a lack of support. And still, I kept hearing no—or sometimes, nothing at all.

At one point, it genuinely felt like everything was falling apart. I remember thinking, how is it possible that so many people are trying to help me, and still nothing is working?

That was one of the biggest lessons I learned in D.C.

People can guide you, connect you, and open doors—but you still have to walk through them yourself. You cannot depend on anyone else to make you settle in or find your place. You have to keep showing up, even when it feels like nothing is working.

So I did.

I started attending events across the city—many of them free, open, and accessible if you were willing to look for them. Policy panels, public health discussions, community events—I went to anything that gave me a chance to be in the room. At first, I mostly listened. Over time, I stayed back, introduced myself, and continued conversations.

I kept sending emails. I kept reaching out. I kept showing up.

Not every effort led to something immediate—but every effort built something over time. I began to see that people were more open than I expected. Conversations I thought would be intimidating became spaces of learning. I heard stories from people who didn’t have perfect paths, who had struggled, and who had questioned themselves too. Slowly, I stopped seeing myself as someone who didn’t belong and started seeing myself as someone who was still learning.

The structure of the program played a big role in that shift. Our classes weren’t just about sitting and listening—they were designed to push us into conversations. We had guest speakers from different sectors, each bringing their own experiences and journeys. Every session became an opportunity not just to learn, but to connect.

I started taking those moments seriously. I reached out to alumni, followed up after sessions, and had conversations simply to understand how people found their way into this work. One of the most important things I learned was that meaningful connections are not built by immediately asking for something. They are built by listening.

Some of the most impactful conversations I had were the ones where I didn’t ask for anything. I just listened to their journeys, their challenges, and their perspectives. D.C. is a city full of stories, and every person you meet carries a different one. The more I allowed people to speak, the more I learned—not just about their work, but about the many ways a path can unfold.

As time passed, I became more comfortable navigating the city. I understood how to approach conversations, where to place myself, and how to engage in spaces where public health perspectives were not only relevant but necessary. I made a conscious effort to be in those rooms—to contribute, to learn, and to grow.

And somewhere along the way, I stopped feeling like a stranger.

After a long and difficult process, I finally secured an internship. But what that moment meant to me went beyond just getting a position. It represented everything I had pushed through—the uncertainty, the rejection, and the doubt. It reminded me that even when things feel like they are not working, something is still moving forward.

Even after everything—the challenges, the uncertainty, and the moments where it felt like nothing was working—I would still choose to do this program again. This experience shapes you in ways no one really talks about. It doesn’t just prepare you professionally—it prepares you for reality. It teaches you how to deal with rejection, navigate uncertainty, and keep going even when things don’t make sense.

If you are coming into this program and feel unsure, don’t let that stop you.

Do everything. Go to events. Talk to people. Reach out. Explore the city. Sit in rooms that make you uncomfortable. Build connections without always having an ask—listen, learn, and take the time to understand people. Those are the connections that stay.

And most importantly, do not wait for things to come to you.

Even if you have support—and you will—you cannot rely on others to build your experience for you. This program gives you access, but what you do with that access is entirely up to you.

Because the more you put yourself out there, the more the city starts to open up to you.

D.C. has a lot to offer—but it doesn’t hand it to you easily. You have to go out and find it.

One day, you will look back and realize that the version of you who felt out of place was the one who was growing the most.

And you will understand—you were never in the wrong place.

You were just becoming the person who could belong anywhere.