Over these past three weeks, I’ve deliberated my role in Jordan and ILearn quite a bit. I’ve considered my role quantitatively and qualitatively, weighing the money and effort put in to have me working in Jordan against my own outputs in work. Especially, after learning about the concerns of ILearn’s longevity, I’ve had a burgeoning awareness of my own placement here in Jordan. Reconciling with my role and work has been something everpresent for me in this past week. Could the money and effort spent into having me in Jordan have been better spent directly to the organization? How can my work have a legacy that is worthwhile to the organization? Grappling with these questions, I’ve been increasingly motivated. I’ve learned I’ve grown very attached to the organization and its people within these past weeks. As a student from America, it is so easy to just complete my work and return home; however, it is our coworkers and the organization who must live with the impacts of our work, and I want to make sure my work can make the sustainability of ILearn a little more certain.

In the different conversations I’ve had, from Abu Faras to the women at the hostel, I’ve learned a lot about my privilege. It is one of uninvolvement. My American citizenship and student status gives me the privilege of being a detached, third party visitor to Jordan and its rich history. I benefit from the hospitality of strangers. I benefit from the ability to travel freely as a third country national–something many Palestinian-Jordanians have lamented to me. I am able to work everyday without regard to its permanence. I think immersing myself both physically and mentally in Jordan, interacting and working from a long-term perspective, where we can become involved and attached to our work and the people, is key to bridging the gaps our privilege creates.