The Garden: Volume Eleven

Beyond the Books: How Universities Shape Who We Become

Op-Ed by Amanawit Assefa, Political Science, Security, and Technology major with a minor in Cybersecurity and International Conflict and Human & Computer Interaction

Too often, we think of academic institutions as mere stepping stones, places designed only to deliver degrees, deadlines and knowledge. But in reality, universities are far more than that; they are incubators for personal growth and transformation. These are the spaces where we begin to shape not just our intellects but our identities. They are where we begin to grow into the people we hope to become.

Within classrooms, lecture halls and student spaces, we don’t just absorb knowledge, we learn how to live among differences. We discover how to collaborate in diverse communities, how to lead with compassion, and how to question with curiosity. We uncover our passions, wrestle with our values and sometimes even stumble upon our purpose. Most importantly, if we let it, the academic space teaches us to care not only for our own ambitions but for the communities around us and the world beyond. At the heart of any institution, and indeed any society worth building, must be empathy. In a world that often encourages competition over connection, academic spaces have the potential to remind us that growth is not just about moving forward, but about reaching outward toward one another.

We don’t need to relate to one another to care. We need only to believe that every person is worthy of dignity, understanding and respect.

At Carnegie Mellon University, within the halls of the Dietrich College of Humanities and Social Sciences, there’s a palpable thread that ties together our classrooms, our professors and our peers, and this is the deep and abiding passion for the humanities. It’s no surprise, of course — Dietrich is, after all, the university’s home for the humanities and social sciences. But what makes this passion so distinctive is how it transcends the traditional boundaries of academic study. Here, the humanities are not just a subject we study, they are a lens through which we engage with the world, question assumptions and imagine new possibilities. Whether we’re analyzing political systems, exploring ethical dilemmas or dissecting cultural narratives, there's a shared understanding that the humanities equip us with the tools to think critically, empathize deeply and lead thoughtfully in an ever-changing world.

Here, the humanities are not just a subject we study, they are a lens through which we engage with the world, question assumptions and imagine new possibilities.

Often, there’s an assumption that empathy can only emerge from shared experiences. But I believe that idea runs counter to the very essence of empathy. Empathy isn’t about sameness, it’s about the willingness to imagine, to listen, and to care even when someone’s life looks nothing like our own. In fact, the most profound acts of empathy happen not because we see ourselves in others, but because we recognize their humanity despite the differences.

True empathy calls us to extend compassion across lines of race, class, nationality, gender and belief. It asks us to listen without judgment and to withhold the impulse to center our own perspective. In a world increasingly fractured by polarization and fear of the “other,” choosing to care in spite of (not because of) our differences is a radical act. It’s what allows diverse communities to thrive, classrooms to become spaces of transformation and societies to move forward. We don’t need to relate to one another to care. We need only to believe that every person is worthy of dignity, understanding and respect.

In a time of rapid change, we need to hold fast to the values that define us: curiosity, courage and empathy. Whether in our classrooms, research or conversations, let us continue to grow not only as scholars, but as people. Let us remain grounded in the ethics that guide meaningful change and stay proactive in building a better world not just for ourselves, but for those around us.

Empathy, Community and the Carnegie Mellon Experience

Op-ed by Dani Moreno, International Relations and Political Science primary major, Applied Multilingual Studies secondary major

One of the things Carnegie Mellon University proudly champions is its interdisciplinary curriculum. Our BXA programs encourage the blending of music and sciences, while our core curriculum is deeply rooted in the humanities, offering students a global and domestic perspective on the consequences and possibilities of science and technology. Extensive research at CMU explores the implications of technology and policy on diverse demographics. Inside the classroom, we are taught to think critically about the world. But what about outside the classroom? What is happening in our campus community, and how do we engage with broader societal issues?

Not only should dedicated students put their hearts into their work, but also put their hearts into developing empathy on campus for students from different backgrounds, while taking time to understand current events.

After each national presidential election, there’s an unmistakable shift in the national mood. On campus, I’ve noticed a persistent narrative: that the domestic issues facing the United States are somehow distant from the concerns of CMU students. Let me unpack where this perception comes from and why it’s important to address it.

Carnegie Mellon is known for its rigorous academics and its students’ relentless work ethic. Many of us are here on major scholarships, massive loans, paying out of pocket or juggling multiple jobs to pay for our education. Nearly half of CMU students receive substantial financial aid, The CMU Costs & Aid site reports "CMU graduates have, on average, less than $20,000 in student loan debt." It doesn't get specific about other types of aid, and with the new CMU Pathways program kicking off in 2025-2026, the average aid package for incoming students may differ. For many, the daily struggle is about survival, balancing coursework, jobs and the relentless pressure to succeed.

So what does this mean for empathy and civic engagement? It’s not that CMU students don’t care; it’s that many are simply stretched to their limits. The demands of academic life can make it difficult to find time, or even the mental space, to engage in protests or advocacy. For some, it’s not a lack of interest, but a matter of survival.

Yet, developing empathy is crucial. Understanding domestic issues and public policy isn’t just about being a good citizen, it’s about being prepared for the professional world. Many CMU graduates will go on to work in government, corporate America or the tech industry. Having a foundational understanding of how domestic issues impact these sectors is more critical than ever.

I think not only should dedicated students put their hearts into their work, but also put their hearts into developing empathy on campus for students from different backgrounds, while taking time to understand current events. This dual commitment, excelling academically while fostering empathy, will help build a more connected and supportive campus community.

This is why the humanities matter so much, even at a university renowned for computer science and engineering. Empathy isn’t just a nice-to-have: it’s essential. It helps us connect with others, understand their struggles, and ultimately, build a stronger, more inclusive community.

I’m not suggesting that every student must protest every injustice. Not everyone has the privilege or safety to be as civically engaged as they might wish, especially international, minority or undocumented students, who may feel a real sense of fear or threat. But I do believe that students should make a reasonable effort to understand domestic issues and public policy. Taking courses on the First Amendment, the Bill of Rights and public policy can help. Fundamentally understanding how our government functions and how those functions intersect with our fields of study will not only make us more empathetic peers but also more effective professionals.

When does it become clear to students that these issues are their issues, too? Too often, the prevailing attitude is, “I’m just trying to get through the work.” But by understanding the diverse backgrounds and challenges our classmates face, we can foster a more empathetic and supportive community.

This is why the humanities matter so much, even at a university renowned for computer science and engineering. Empathy isn’t just a nice-to-have: it’s essential. It helps us connect with others, understand their struggles, and ultimately, build a stronger, more inclusive community.

In a world that’s increasingly interconnected and often divided, emphasizing empathy and understanding is more important than ever. At Carnegie Mellon, we have the resources and the responsibility to lead by example, both inside and outside the classroom.

Faculty Spotlight: Ignacio Arana

by Amanawit Assefa

Ignacio Arana is an assistant professor at the Carnegie Mellon Institute for Strategy and Technology (CMIST) where he teaches Latin American politics, Comparative Politics and Research Design. Arana’s academic interests reflect his dual identity as a comparativist and a field researcher. His work explores two intersecting dimensions: how the individual traits of national political leaders shape governance and how institutions function across political systems. Whether analyzing the nuances of executive-legislative relationships or the influence of gender on political processes, Arana approaches each subject with analytical rigor and lived insight.

Arana’s journey began far from academia, as a journalist working on newspapers on an international desk in both Chile and Spain.“I didn’t know what to do with my life,” he admits. When he finished high school, college seemed inevitable, but directionless. Journalism, with its intersections of literature, politics and history, felt like an open door. More importantly, it allowed him to uncover the truth behind important events and processes — a passion he had throughout his career.

The transition from journalism to political science was less about leaving one world behind and more about diving deeper into it. “I wanted to become the expert people turn to,” Arana explains, reflecting on his time covering international affairs. The need for understanding more led him to pursue a Ph.D., not with the specific intention of becoming a professor, but out of a drive to answer deeper questions about how politics really works.

His past as a journalist still informs his research approach. “Instead of speculating how political actors think, I go and ask them,” he says plainly. This mindset led him on bus journeys across Central America, where he interviewed 21 former presidents along with six others in Chile, Colombia, Spain and even Pittsburgh. These conversations became the backbone of his work. “When we’re dealing with political actors, it’s important to understand their perspective directly. My training as a journalist made that possible.”

Arana’s drive for knowledge eventually brought him to Carnegie Mellon University. What keeps him grounded isn’t prestige, it's the people. “The interaction with students is really important to me,” he says. On days when students are engaged, the energy is palpable. In the classroom, Arana is deliberate about creating space for students to be themselves. “I want students to feel comfortable. I’m not going to judge them,” he says. This trust is often reciprocated in deeply personal ways through students confiding their identities, beliefs or past experiences. “Sometimes they share things that I didn’t ask for, and it means they feel safe. That matters.”

Part of this comfort, Arana believes, comes from his own openness. “Maybe I overshare,” he laughs, “but I’m very bad at being a hypocrite.” He acknowledges the fine line between honesty and oversharing, recognizing that even with the best intentions, words can be misinterpreted. Still, he leans toward honesty, because he knows that authenticity fosters genuine dialogue, something increasingly rare in today’s polarized discourse.

He’s also aware that students today often feel silenced, not necessarily by professors, but by peers. “Some students have told me they feel they can’t say certain things in class. Not because of faculty, but because of how others might react,” he explains. That’s why he emphasizes respectful listening, diverse viewpoints and empathy — because only then can meaningful learning happen.

“Emotions are at the core of the pursuit of knowledge.”

Arana’s path reflects a deep, personal commitment to understanding others. Through his teaching he invites students not only to study democracy but to exercise empathy. In the often emotionally charged space of political science classrooms, the capacity to approach complex issues with empathy and intellectual curiosity is essential. Arana’s pedagogical approach is rooted in presenting multiple perspectives. Rather than prescribing moral conclusions, he encourages students to examine issues from various angles, even those they may instinctively disagree with. In a discipline where emotionally charged content can easily cloud judgment, this emotional literacy is what enables students to transition from reactive to reflective thinkers.

Arana candidly reflects on the role emotions play in learning, even within the realm of political analysis. “Emotions are at the core of the pursuit of knowledge,” he notes. “You feel the desire, then you study.” Far from seeing emotion and reason as opposites, he recognizes that emotional investment can drive the desire for understanding, laying the groundwork for deeper inquiry.

Empathy, for him, also involves understanding the pressures students face outside the classroom. During exam-heavy weeks, he may cut a reading assignment or make time for open discussion instead. He consults with CMU’s Eberly Center for Teaching Excellence & Educational Innovation to conduct anonymous student focus groups. “I will make all the concessions to make them more engaged in class except if it decreases their learning experience,” he explains.

His work also extends beyond the academic sphere. Arana recognized a pressing need: Spanish-speaking newcomers often arrive without the social capital or guidance needed to navigate an unfamiliar landscape. In response, he founded Latinos in Pittsburgh, a bilingual online platform designed to serve as a comprehensive hub for essential resources. The website curates and categorizes information on a wide range of services, including legal aid, healthcare providers, educational programs, housing support and cultural events, all tailored for the Spanish-speaking community. More than a static directory, Latinos in Pittsburgh is a dynamic act of bridge-building offering clarity in place of confusion, and belonging in place of isolation. In creating this resource, Arana moves into direct community engagement, embodying his belief that empathy requires more than good intentions: it demands infrastructure, initiative and action. The site reflects his deep understanding of the structural barriers immigrants face and stands as a living testament to his commitment to practical solidarity. The idea was born out of his own recognition of privilege and a desire to give back. “I have had a good life here ... but you have to help in practice, not just say beautiful words,” he says.

Through both teaching and community engagement, he shows how empathy in political science is not about avoiding hard truths or promoting one-sided narratives. It is about creating space for dialogue, equipping students to think critically across perspectives, and acknowledging the lived experiences that shape our views. In the classroom, he encourages students to think critically, to question systems of power, and to engage with perspectives that may differ radically from their own. Outside of it, he dedicates his time and effort to ensuring others can find belonging, whether that’s a first-year student navigating political theory or a newly arrived immigrant looking for a place to call home.

Arana’s story is a powerful testament to what it means to lead with empathy: to listen deeply, to adapt when necessary, and to care consistently and sincerely. In academia and beyond, it’s this kind of leadership that leaves a lasting mark.