Interning with Global Nomads’ Content Creation Lab<\/h2>\n
Interning with GN\u2019s Content Creation Lab<\/a> (CCL) twice has been an honour. I co-designed the courses \u2018Real Youth, Artificial Intelligence<\/a>\u2019 from September to December 2024, and \u2018Neurodiversity, Leadership, and Belonging<\/a>‘ from January to May 2025. These experiences satisfied my curiosity\u2014my first internship expanded on the AI ethics I was taught in IGCSE computer science, while my second internship introduced me to new psychological terms\u2014but CCL works differently compared to most academic activities I\u2019ve done. It\u2019s youth-driven. With every intern on an equal footing, there are no mentors and mentees. No judgemental eyes. During the orientation of my first programme, we went through the guidelines we were supposed to follow as interns. The rule, \u201cShare what you know and what you don\u2019t <\/i>know\u201d, caught my attention, quieting my inner critic. It was less overwhelming to collaborate in the weekly CCL team meetings than, say, debating in a Model United Nations (MUN) conference, where I had <\/i>to be a composed, eloquent speaker since the stakes were higher. At CCL, I just had to be authentic. The atmosphere was so supportive that I learnt to speak up even\u2014and especially\u2014when I\u2019d stutter or veer off into tangents, rambling, thinking, \u201cWhat the heck did I mean to say in the first place\u2014no, what\u2019s wrong with my accent?\u201d<\/p>\n You\u2019d be right if you guessed that my international school background made me a perfectionist. As a Pakistani who grew up in Abu Dhabi, I\u2019m used to breathing in rooms filled with people of different nationalities and social statuses. The school I transferred to in Year 6 was vibrant and, while I met my lifelong friends there, its environment had one downside: competition. So much so that a 91% in a biology final was seen as \u2018meh\u2019. As a 4\u20199 eleven-year-old who needed time to adjust, I initially dreaded speaking to my classmates. Each student was sorted into a group: Triangle (high achievers), Circle or Square (those who needed extra support); when I was placed into Triangle, a girl was shocked. She assumed that because I was quiet, I was a \u2018bad\u2019 student\u2014as if that exists! I internalised the misconception that I needed to prove myself in order to claim a seat at the table, but the CCL staff affirmed that being present, listening and engaging with everyone was what defined it.<\/p>\n At school, besides occasional lectures or Culture Day events, diversity was just a fact of my everyday life, as ubiquitous as brushing my teeth. I never thought about what a privilege it is to have lived in a multicultural city until I joined CCL. Since places expose us to the friends, perspectives and opportunities that define us, our stories are deeply shaped by where we were born or raised. CCL, whose entire motto is \u201cby global youth, for global youth\u201d, taught me to recognise and value that context\u2014but our words don\u2019t mean much unless we adjust our systems to make space for different ways of being. I learnt how to translate my appreciation into action by providing me with a useful framework. We implemented tools like backwards mapping and GNG\u2019s accessibility rubric, based on universal design principles, to produce curricula. Really, though, we can apply these techniques to any aspect of our lives, like I did while formatting each issue<\/a> of Miscellany<\/i><\/a>\u2014an online educational magazine I co-founded with a friend\u2014or creating my social media post <\/a>as Write the World\u2019s AI Liaison<\/a>. I followed GNG\u2019s accessibility rubric in both of these roles, using higher contrasts and larger fonts on Canva to accommodate visually impaired readers.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Making learning more accessible for others shifted how I view my presence. I have a memory from Year 3: me, standing in the hallway, watching an older girl\u2014a prefect\u2014stroll by, her high ponytail bouncing. She seemed so\u2026 sure. She had that \u2018at ease\u2019 aura that I longed to imitate. But participating in CCL programmes (and later representing GNG at two events held by the Charter for Compassion!) brought out that side of me. Once I was given shelter from academic pressure, I learnt to loosen my fist\u2019s grip on perfection. The confidence I admired in others no longer seemed like an impossible state for me to reach, and I nurtured it. I tried things that I was scared to do before, like immersing myself in my school community. I delivered an Islamic general knowledge during an assembly and played a key role in science outreach initiatives, applying CCL\u2019s standard of inclusion in many of them, such as when I mentored Year 6 students in conducting sheep heart dissections safely. Instead of babying them\u2014which would wrongfully assume that they don\u2019t have the capability to understand\u2014I used backwards mapping to break down each step of the procedure. Their small, secretive smiles and relieved sighs as they drew their scalpels through the correct area prove that clear guidance helps students trust themselves, even those as anxious as I was.<\/p>\n But accessibility also includes access to opportunities. My time at CCL encouraged me to fill the gaps I spotted in other systems: when my class, the first large post-pandemic Year 13 cohort, learnt that the administration couldn\u2019t fund the graduation ceremony we\u2019d expected, three friends and I took initiative. In our first group discussion, my classmates reluctantly exchanged their opinions, shaking their heads as thoughts clashed: some wanted a dance, some a formal dinner. An Emirati girl quietly asked me, \u201cWould it be a mixed-gender ceremony?\u201d Gathering ideas is easy, I realised; aligning a diverse year group\u2019s visions required the compassionate leadership I\u2019d practiced at CCL\u2014and detailed Google Form surveys. To ensure fairness, we voted for the most popular activities and presented a unified proposal to the principal, trembling. What I\u2019m most proud of isn\u2019t handling the logistics empathetically\u2014searching for budget-friendly venues or designing inclusive invitation cards\u2014but that, by giving agency to those whose ideas were overlooked, I made this once-in-a-lifetime experience accessible for my classmates.<\/p>\n I won\u2019t forget that evening in June 2025. How everyone\u2019s eyes glinted as they received their diplomas and tossed their mortarboards. How our sashes blew in the AC-vent breeze. Because of my contributions to my school community, I was selected to give a speech at our graduation. It didn\u2019t matter that I started bawling mid-speech, even though that <\/i>was embarrassing. One of my teachers praised my story for being the most emotionally honest she\u2019s ever heard. That mattered more since, without CCL, I wouldn\u2019t have the courage to stand behind a podium.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Today, at 19, I\u2019m on a gap year. One of my main projects is working on my creative portfolio. When I was younger, I prioritised writing prose, although now I\u2019ve discovered that poetry captures the nuances of human stories more precisely. I don\u2019t know what drove me to submit my first poem, then my second, my third, my fourth\u2014but once my longlisting in The Passionfruit Review\u2019s 2025 Poetry Prize cracked the door of the publishing world ajar by a centimeter, I felt determined to squeeze through it. Of course, my Gmail inbox is crammed with\u00a0 \u201cnot a fit for us\u201d Submittable notes, a personalised rejection here and there. Just as CCL taught me that my participation is more important than my performance, I\u2019m learning to see rejections as a rite of passage. They\u2019re evidence that I\u2019m showing up, not a measure of my worth, each \u201cno\u201d a necessary step towards the two acceptances I received. If my poetry resonates with someone who can\u2019t find the words to articulate what they\u2019re feeling\u2014like How to Hold West Punjab<\/i> <\/a>did with Fahmidan Journal and How a High School Graduate Wins a Game of Uno<\/i> <\/a>did with Blue Marble Review\u2014\u201cI shall not live in vain,\u201d to quote Emily Dickinson.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The poem below is a snapshot of my transition from the structured routine of school to the uncertain black hole we call the future. It explores what changes because of time and how genuine connections\u2014I mean, love\u2014survive anyway, one of my recurring literary obsessions.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n How a High School Graduate Wins a Game of Uno<\/b><\/p>\n Greased-finger girls, fry-and-Uno-card-in-<\/p>\n grip girls, we take turns, smack<\/p>\n worn paper on the plastic grandma-green<\/p>\n of the table, striped fluorescence<\/p>\n cartooning us as laughter-drooling girls.<\/p>\n Vinegar breath, truth<\/p>\n mid-gossip clogs the air. I lean back,<\/p>\n frown, prop a grin duller than the flickering<\/p>\n light overhead. Should I stack that question,<\/p>\n a Draw Four shoved last minute,<\/p>\n smirk Uno<\/i>\u2014I mean, listen,<\/i> \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 is this our<\/i><\/p>\n last game?<\/i><\/p>\n I\u2019m leaving. August\u2019s<\/i><\/p>\n got a mouth, gulps my plane on the thirty-first<\/i><\/p>\n like a Sprite can,<\/i><\/p>\n got fists that\u2019ll drag me to a street<\/i><\/p>\n whose diners blur with not-you girls\u2014<\/i><\/p>\n you stunned-TV-static girls,<\/p>\n dropping your decks,<\/p>\n shifting closer to hear me right;<\/p>\n listen\u2014<\/i><\/p>\n blinking-too-fast-patting-my-hair girls, skin<\/p>\n no longer a soft fifth-grade girl\u2019s,<\/p>\n there\u2019s a \u00a0\u00a0 sip \u00a0\u00a0 of fizz \u00a0\u00a0 left in my cup,<\/i><\/p>\n look, not the fog reshuffling at its edge.<\/i><\/p>\n This sour fizz.<\/i> This hand no manual<\/p>\n taught me how to deal: how to breathe<\/p>\n goodbye, girls.<\/p>\n As I navigate my gap year and look forward to university, I carry CCL\u2019s lessons with me. Maybe I can give myself the permission to exist like I am, only two inches taller than I was at eleven, still shy when thrust into new rooms. Maybe I don\u2019t have to be \u2018useful\u2019 for others in the \u201cWhat can I keep tangibly offering them?\u201d sense. Slouching with them, listening to their stories and acknowledging the worth of their voice\u2014that\u2019s useful, too, and maybe it\u2019s what younger Iffah would\u2019ve wanted: to hear and be heard.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Finding My Perspective Through Storytelling Stories have been a part of my life since Year 7. After I won second place in an intraschool creative writing competition, I realised that I do have a distinct voice, which I\u2019d spend the next few years learning how to express. That I had things to say doesn\u2019t mean […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":6553,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"content-type":"","pagelayer_contact_templates":[],"_pagelayer_content":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6533","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6533","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6533"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6533\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6555,"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6533\/revisions\/6555"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6553"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6533"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6533"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gng.org\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6533"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"A](\"https:\/\/gng.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Author-headshot-201x300.jpeg\")
<\/p>\nGrowing Up as a Pakistani in Abu Dhabi<\/h2>\n
Learning to Value Accessibility and Inclusion<\/h2>\n
![\"A](\"https:\/\/gng.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Featured-photo-200x300.jpeg\")
<\/p>\nBuilding Confidence Through Community Involvement<\/h2>\n
Organising a Graduation Ceremony<\/h2>\n
Graduation Day and Realizing Inner Courage<\/h2>\n
![\"A](\"https:\/\/gng.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/GRAD-SPEECH-FEATURED-PHOTO.jpg-300x200.jpeg\")
<\/p>\nDiscovering Poetry During Gap Year<\/h2>\n
Carrying Content Creation Lab’s Lessons Into the Future<\/h2>\n