What went well?

The final week of the program had arrived. After weeks of research, interviews, and learning about Medellín through the eyes of locals from different comunas, income levels, and backgrounds, I felt like I had truly begun to see and hear the people. Living in similar circumstances and observing how they navigate the city gave me a deeper perspective. For the teens, I wanted this last session to be a time of reflection—a chance to see how far they had come.

When I walked into the room, several teens ran up and hugged me. One of the biggest cultural differences I noticed between Toronto and Medellín is how freely people hug. Everyone hugs, and it reminded me of back home in the Philippines. Some of the kids asked if this was my last week, and when I said yes, many wanted to know when I would return. I explained that it would be difficult because of school. Two of them told me not to forget them, and one girl handed me a friendship bracelet so I would always remember her. Their generosity struck me again. They truly have hearts bigger than Medellín.

Since new students had joined and many others had not finished the Map of My Life activity from the second week, I decided to end the program by returning to it. Those who had already completed it were invited to create a new version, this time guided by a specific theme and with the freedom to make the art more abstract.

As the students drew, I noticed small but telling details about what makes them happy. Weed appeared in a few drawings, which surprised me at first and reflected a cultural difference that took me aback. At one point, a teen couple began making out in the middle of the room, and none of the volunteers or facilitators reacted. I tried to ignore it and instead focused on engaging students about what they had created.

Once everyone was finished, we transformed the room into a gallery, displaying all of the artwork on the walls. This setup emphasized the core message: that every person has a story. Some stories are unique to the individual, while others are universal, but either way, no one can take that story away. That story is their power.

As we closed the workshop, many parents arrived to see the gallery and observe what their children and their friends had created. We ended the day by sharing pizza, celebrating not just the art itself but the community we had built together.

What could have been done differently?

Nothing. It was a session meant for reflection and connection.

What did I learn about leadership?

For me, this final week cemented a central lesson about leadership: it begins with listening. To lead in Medellín meant balancing structure with openness and recognizing that power is not mine to give. It already exists within the youth; it only needed to be seen and nurtured. This experience reminded me that leadership is about presence. To show up to witness, to affirm, and to walk alongside others as they claim their voices and shape their futures.