Global Dialogues

Growing up as a Christian in China meant growing up in silence. I was taught that faith was a private matter—something not to be displayed, not discussed, and certainly not to be practiced publicly. In school, religion was never mentioned. In public life, churches were monitored, crosses removed, and Christian symbols slowly disappeared from the streets. The government called it “urban development” or “maintaining social harmony”—but I saw it for what it was: erasing a part of our spiritual identity.

As I watched news reports of churches being demolished, I began to ask myself difficult questions: Who decides what is good? What happens when those in power redefine morality, not to protect people, but to control them, shape their beliefs, and silence their differences?

Moving to Qatar—a country shaped by Islamic faith—challenged me in new ways. For the first time, I lived in a society where religion was public, visible, and celebrated. I watched people fast during Ramadan with extraordinary discipline. At first, I felt grateful that I was a Christian, free from such restrictions. But I also felt like an outsider—shaped by an atheist state, now surrounded by people whose lives revolved around faith.

I remember walking in Doha wearing a light summer dress. I felt nervous—unsure if I was violating some cultural expectation. Yet, a group of young Muslim women passed by me, smiling warmly, saying: “Your dress is so beautiful.” It was a small moment, but a profound one. It reminded me that moral authority is not always found in power or rules. It can live in kindness—in the simple human recognition of beauty, dignity, and respect across differences.

Today, I no longer believe that moral authority belongs solely to governments, religious institutions, or international organizations. It survives in people—in their conscience, in their courage to question power, and in their choice to respect others even when systems around them fail to do so.

I want to be part of a generation that reclaims morality not as a tool of control—but as a shared responsibility grounded in empathy, justice, and human dignity. As a Christian shaped by China’s silence and Qatar’s faith, I am ready to listen, to question, and to build bridges—not to erase difference, but to honor it.

Mingen Zhang (SFS'27) is a sophomore in the School of Foreign Service at Georgetown university.