Fulbright represents more than academic excellence. It signifies a commitment to dialogue across cultures, the respectful exchange of ideas, and the pursuit of mutual understanding in a complex world. As a Fulbrighter, I carry this responsibility with deep sincerity, especially in a time when inclusive thinking and global cooperation are not simply ideals, but necessities.
Last night, during the Spring Fulbright Meeting in Brașov, I experienced a disconcerting moment that challenged these very ideals. While returning from dinner with two fellow cohort members, I used Google Maps to help navigate back to the hotel. It was late, and our initial route had led us off course. Instead of collegiality, I was met with ridicule from one of my companions. He disparaged my use of GPS and suggested that relying on technology was a sign of diminished cognitive capacity, stating I should “train my hypothalamus” by getting lost repeatedly until I found the correct path. The conversation soon devolved further, as he attempted to switch into Romanian despite the presence of a third participant who did not speak the language, something I declined out of respect for our shared space.
Shortly thereafter, the same individual asked whether I was married. When I responded that I was not, he replied, “Oh, so you are a feminist against men.” He then proceeded to remark condescendingly on my academic path, expressing unsolicited pity that I did not yet hold a PhD, ignoring the fact that I am currently completing a doctoral program and conducting field research supported by Fulbright. These statements, while perhaps intended to assert dominance or superiority, revealed troubling assumptions: that a woman’s marital status is indicative of her ideological stance, that hierarchy supersedes empathy, that a woman’s intellect is something to be challenged rather than engaged, and that technological literacy is something to mock.
More than personal offense, I was left with a broader concern, namely, that even in programs founded on cross-cultural learning and mutual respect, outdated gender norms and politicized worldviews can surface, undermining the very goals we strive to uphold. His later comments, feigning ignorance about a Confederate flag sticker we saw nearby, followed by a question about Antifa framed in a way that echoed partisan rhetoric, further exposed how political ideology can influence interactions even in apolitical academic settings.
These encounters matter. Not because they define the Fulbright experience, but because they reveal how much work remains in creating environments where all voices are heard and valued equitably.
As a scholar, I remain committed to an ethic of inclusion and intellectual humility. My work on human security in the Danube Delta centers the stories of those whose knowledge is often overlooked, particularly women navigating the intersection of environmental, economic, and social vulnerability. I believe that the tools we use, from digital mapping to narrative inquiry, are vital for safety and research, and ensure access, autonomy, and accountability.
Moments like last night’s encounter do not deter me. They clarify why this work matters. Why I continue to advocate for feminist perspectives in global security. Why respectful dialogue, especially in transnational spaces, must be actively protected, not merely assumed.
I remain proud to be a Fulbrighter. And I will continue to walk forward, guided by my principles, supported by evidence, and willing to speak when silence might be easier.