**The following piece reflects solely the views and perspectives of the Fellow and does not represent the positions of the Banyan Impact Fellowship or the American India Foundation.**
Our cohort of American Banyan Impact Fellows began our term in India during a time of profound political, social, and economic upheaval in the United States. This contemporary moment in U.S. domestic and foreign politics has been characterized by public outcry and deepening partisanship—developments that had been brewing well before our arrival in Delhi in October 2024.
Certainly, though, the frequency of unprecedented and volatile administrative actions—and the public’s overall degree of uncertainty—has become more consistent since January 2025.
What once felt like jarring days have turned into jarring weeks, and now, jarring months. The ache that initially came from acute, disruptive news has become chronic—a persistent state of disorder.
Even within the confines of what I can express explicitly on this platform—and thus refraining from sharing my own value judgments—it is evident that the policies and conduct of the current U.S. administration have had dramatic and far-reaching repercussions for individuals, families, communities, and economies both within the United States and globally. From cuts or closures of federal departments and agencies to stark increases to detainments and deportations, arms transfers, and the imposition of new trade barriers, these measures alter lives and systems on a wide scale.
Such sweeping measures are also, in many ways, deeply personal—making it necessary to acknowledge this unfolding reality. It feels disingenuous and disillusioning to ignore the gravity of the moment, regardless of whether one views these developments as positive or negative, just or unjust.
While I would undoubtedly have to make sense of these complex, turbulent times regardless of where I was living or working back home in the U.S., I now find myself distinctly separated from my usual tools and familiar pathways of community-building and engagement.
Here in India, as an American India Foundation Fellow with responsibilities and relationships that carry their own weight and significance, I grapple with what constitutes an adequate and appropriate response. As an American citizen, I am navigating how to remain aligned with my values amid these changes. As a Fellow based in India, I struggle to weigh competing demands—prioritizing work for a broader collective while knowing people personally whose lives and livelihoods are at risk. It is not easy to compartmentalize work that feels necessary and urgent in the Indian context, while being fully aware of the extent of what is unfolding at home.
I am also conscious that, to some degree, I serve as a representative of the U.S. to those I meet here. I struggle to reconcile representing my home country while feeling increasingly estranged from its values and actions. I also wonder to what extent I should be transparent about my thoughts and feelings—speaking my truth to the situation—to others.
I am particularly challenged when I reveal my ‘Americanness’ to a new person, as I am usually asked about my thoughts on the current administration. I find myself tempering my responses, carefully selecting words to try to account for the listener’s perspective of the situation, while considering language barriers. I fear engaging in conversations I’m not prepared for— lacking the capacity to address such seriousness with brevity.
Often, I limit or sanitize my answers just enough to neutralize the conversation. I tell myself: your honest perspective might not be fully understood. It will require too much context to unpack.
Yet, those moments linger. I am quick to avoid thoughtful, more critical engagement. Perhaps, too quick. I realize my approach is probably more rooted in fear or exhaustion than in wisdom or social awareness.
Determining how to respond to others here is both complicated and clarified by the reality that the changes happening at home are directly relevant and connected to the livelihood, climate justice, and social development work I am pursuing in India. The impacts manifest in obvious ways, such as cuts to United States Agency for International Development (USAID) that have affected my host organization, but also in more indirect ways—subtler shifts in the conditions under which global solidarity, resource-sharing, and collective action can and will be exercised.
Delays in funding cycles, shifts in partnership dynamics, tightening of civic space shaped by rhetorical and policy cues, and redefinitions of whose advocacy is considered legitimate in the public sphere, are just some of the ways these upheavals will ripple and reverberate across years, even decades.
Living abroad often means balancing dual responsibilities from afar. But these are not ordinary times. Staying open to new information, I find myself processing events daily—rapidly, and often with a sense of constant alarm. The way I might have handled things in the past feels increasingly out of step, or at the very least, worth reexamining.
In the age of the internet, I also must contend with the fact that my voice is not bound by time or place. I cannot recuse myself from engaging with that which is happening in the U.S. simply because I am 7500+ miles away. Just as my emotions are stirred by articles I read and private messages I receive from colleagues, friends, and loved ones, I know that I have many tools which can facilitate some form of distanced action– that I can stir momentum in my own right using my own voice.
And while I know that constantly turning to the news can cloud my mental clarity and give way to feelings of overwhelm, despair, or frustration, I also feel that it would be a kind of fracture—to myself and to others—to solely focus on my life here in India.
Over time, I’ve felt a deepening sense of disconnection—not just from my identity as an American, but from any clear understanding of what is right, and more critically, from my own sense of humanity.
I don’t yet have clarity around what I should—or shouldn’t—say about who I am, what I believe, or what feels right in my role as a fellow here. This temporary home brings its own set of challenges, alongside personal responsibilities and relationships that require my full presence. Learning how to meet them is an ongoing process.
As an American fellow, I am watching, listening, and feeling the distance. I will continue to grapple with how to understand self, other, and place in this time—finding fleeting moments of clarity, only to have them unsettled again.
A personal and collective resolution does not appear on the immediate horizon.
